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cressidagrey · 4 months ago

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The mysterious Mrs. Piastri

We are interrupting our regularly scheduled programming for a Valentine's Day Treat. Remember that video where Oscar was asked "Get married or get a tattoo?" Well, it showed up on my FYP and I was like..:WAIT

Summary:

Oscar Piastri had always been a calm, collected kind of guy. Unshakeable, even. Lando Norris, on the other hand? Not so much.

And today? Today was the day Lando fully lost it.

(divider thanks to @saradika-graphics )

Oscar Piastri had always been a calm, collected kind of guy. Unshakeable, even.

Lando Norris, on the other hand? Not so much.

And today? Today was the day Lando fully lost it.

It had started innocently enough, just another fan stage, just another round of questions.

“Oscar, would you rather get married or get a tattoo?”

Easy. Straightforward. Oscar barely had to think before responding, “Well, I already did one of those things.”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say.

Because one second later, Lando spat out his drink.

“YOU GOT A TATTOO?!”

Oscar turned, confused. “What? No.”

Lando, looking equal parts betrayed and horrified, pointed an accusing finger. “Mate, I’ve seen you in swim trunks. There’s no way you have a tattoo. Where is it?”

Oscar frowned. “I don’t have a tattoo.”

Lando’s face twisted in confusion. “But you just said—” He stopped. His eyes widened. Oscar could see the moment his brain caught up.

“WAIT. WAIT.” Lando practically jumped out of his seat. “YOU’RE MARRIED?!” Lando looked genuinely stunned, his mouth hanging open in shock.

Oscar nodded, calm as ever. “Yeah.”

Lando’s reaction was not calm. Lando let out a strangled, guttural noise, kind of sounding like an indignant cat.

“WHAT?!”

The interviewer, who had been mostly observing up until now, leaned forward, eyes shining with the excitement of a woman who had just stumbled upon the biggest scoop of the season. “Okay, hold on. You mean married married? Like, legally?”

Oscar frowned. “Is there another kind?”

Lando’s hands were now on his head, his entire world seemingly crumbling around him. “SINCE WHEN?!”

Oscar shrugged. “A while now.”

The crowd lost it. The interviewer looked like Christmas had come early. The McLaren PR team, wherever they were, was probably having a collective heart attack.

Lando’s jaw dropped. “I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND.”

Oscar frowned. “You know that," he told Lando pointedly.

“I DO NOT KNOW THAT,” Lando shouted. “WHEN HAVE YOU EVER MENTIONED A GIRLFRIEND—LET ALONE A WIFE?!”

Oh well. Oscar just shrugged. “Well. I do. She’s amazing. 10/10. Would always marry her again.”

Lando let out a hysterical laugh. “Wait, wait, wait. No, no. You’re telling me you have a freaking WIFE?!”

The interviewer seized the moment. “Okay, no, we need details. How long have you been together?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. "Since we were 15."

Lando made a strangled noise. “15?! YOU’VE BEEN WITH HER SINCE YOU WERE 15?!”

Oscar nodded. “Yeah.”

The interviewer looked delighted. “How did you meet?”

Oscar tilted his head. “School?”

Lando groaned and turned to the audience. “Look at this guy. Look at him. Of course he’s been secretly married this whole time. Of course.”

The interviewer pressed on. “When did you get married?”

Oscar shrugged. “When I was 18.”

The entire crowd erupted. Fans were screaming, phones were recording, and McLaren PR was definitely hyperventilating somewhere.

Lando, meanwhile, looked like his whole world had just collapsed in real-time.

“You—you got MARRIED at EIGHTEEN?!” he wheezed. “WHY?!”

Oscar looked at him like he was stupid. “Because I wanted to? Because I love her?”

The interviewer cooed over the answer. Lando physically recoiled. “What, like straight out of high school?!”

Oscar frowned. “Not straight out of high school. We waited a bit.”

“HOW LONG IS A BIT?!” Lando demanded.

Oscar thought about it. “Like… three weeks after graduation?”

Lando let out a strangled noise. “THAT’S NOT A BIT, OSCAR. THAT’S BASICALLY IMMEDIATELY.”

Lando dramatically fell back in his chair. The interviewer, meanwhile, was nearly vibrating with excitement. “Okay, okay, follow-up question—how did you propose?”

Oscar thought about it. “I asked her to marry me.”

The interviewer stared. “…That’s it?”

Oscar nodded. “Yeah.”

Lando threw his hands in the air. “UNBELIEVABLE.”

The interviewer, trying desperately to salvage something remotely romantic, asked, “Where did you propose?”

Oscar, as if this were a perfectly reasonable answer, said, “Uh. At home?”

The interviewer looked at him. "...At home?"

"On the bed," Oscar added.

Lando looked like he was going to have an aneurysm.

The crowd groaned. The interviewer looked physically pained. Lando just laughed in disbelief. “I knew you’d be the most unromantic bastard alive.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “She said yes.”

Lando wiped imaginary tears from his eyes. “That poor woman.”

The interviewer shook her head in awe. “Oscar, mate, I have to ask—how did you manage to keep this a secret for so long?”

Oscar blinked. “No one asked?”

Lando just screamed.

The interviewer, who had completely abandoned all pretense of professionalism, leaned forward. “Okay, wait, wait, who is she?”

Oscar blinked. “My wife?”

Lando threw up his hands. “YES, OBVIOUSLY, but who is she? What’s her name? Where’s she from? What does she do?”

Oscar's forehead creased. "Is that... relevant?"

The interviewer just about had a stroke. Lando looked like he was going to spontaneously combust.

The fans were losing their freaking minds.

Lando nearly fell out of his chair. “YOU’VE BEEN MARRIED FOR YEARS AND I’VE NEVER MET HER.”

“I mean, I thought it was obvious?”

“OBVIOUS TO WHO?!” Lando yelled. “BECAUSE IT WASN’T OBVIOUS TO ME.”

Oscar just shrugged.

Lando groaned. “Mate, I DIDN’T KNOW SHE EXISTED!”

Lando looked like he was seconds from grabbing Oscar and shaking him until some kind of information fell out. "Okay, I can't believe I have to ask this, but why the hell didn't you tell me?”

"I thought you knew," Oscar answered simply.

Lando just gaped. "How on earth would I have known?"

Oscar shrugged. The interviewer, meanwhile, was leaning closer, clearly invested in the whole thing now.

Lando, apparently having had enough, decided on a different tactic. Lando pointed at him, eyes narrowing. “You’re not getting away with this. You are going to introduce me to your wife.”

Oscar sighed, clearly knowing a losing battle when he saw one. “Fine,” he said after a moment.

Lando sat back, satisfied. “Good.” Then he paused. “Wait—does anyone else know? Like, do the team know?”

Oscar shrugged. “I think Zak does.”

Lando made a strangled noise. “Why does Zak get to know?!”

Oscar pointed out, “Because he’s my boss?”

The interviewer, clearly having thrown all professionalism out the window, was just enjoying the chaos. Lando looked like he wanted to scream. “But I’m your friend!”

Somewhere in the background, McLaren PR was probably losing their minds, trying to figure out how to handle the fact that Oscar Piastri, their quiet, low-maintenance driver, had accidentally revealed he’d been married since he was 18.

Not Oscar’s problem, though...After he escaped Lando Norris' clutches.

He had a wife to call after all.

Oscar Piastri was a man of routine.

He liked predictability. Consistency. A life largely free of unnecessary chaos.

Which was exactly why, after the complete meltdown that was today’s fan stage, he had retreated to his driver’s room, shut the door, and pulled out his phone. If there was one thing in his life that wasn’t chaotic, it was his wife.

The call rang twice before she picked up.

“Hey, love,” she greeted, her face appearing on screen. She was sitting in their apartment, hair tied up, wearing one of his hoodies.

Oscar felt himself relax immediately. “Hey.”

She smiled at him. “So, how was your day?”

Oscar sighed. “Lando found out we’re married.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh.” A pause. “He… didn’t know?”

Oscar shook his head. "I thought he did."

She let out a small laugh at that. "How the hell did you think he knew?"

Oscar shrugged. "I dunno. We've been married for, what, five years now? How could he not know?"

Her smile widened. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're about as romantic as a cactus?"

Oscar let out a huff. "I can be romantic."

Before she could respond, there was a loud banging on the door, followed by—

“LET ME IN, PIASTRI!”

Oscar sighed through his nose. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

His wife bit her lip, clearly seconds away from laughing. “Is that…?”

“YOU HAVE EXACTLY THREE SECONDS BEFORE I BREAK THIS DOOR DOWN AND—”

Oscar hung his head. “Yes.”

She was laughing now, and he couldn’t even bring himself to be mad because it was an adorable sound.

The banging continued. “I CAN HEAR YOU IN THERE. STOP IGNORING ME, OSCAR.”

His wife bit her lip, clearly trying not to laugh. “You should probably let him in before he tries to break the door down.”

Oscar debated not letting him in, but realistically, Lando would either A) find a way in, or B) make this everyone else’s problem.

So, with a long-suffering sigh, he got up and opened the door.

Lando barreled in immediately, eyes wild.

“WHERE IS SHE?!?” he demanded. “I NEED TO SEE HER WITH MY OWN EYES.”

Oscar sighed, holding up the phone. “She’s on FaceTime, you absolute lunatic.”

Lando’s head whipped around, and he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to get to the couch. He pushed past Oscar with a huff, then stared, wide-eyed, at the phone.

Lando was silent. For once.

His wife was, bless her soul, doing her best to fight her laughter at the look on Lando’s face. “Hi,” she said. “You must be Lando.”

Lando just continued to gape.

Then, slowly, he pointed an accusatory finger at the screen. “You’re real.”

She laughed. “I hope so.”

Lando turned to Oscar, looking personally betrayed. “SHE’S REAL.”

Oscar sighed. “I know.”

Lando turned back to the phone. “And you married him? At eighteen?!?”

She smiled. “Yep.”

Lando reeled. “WHY?!”

She tilted her head. “Because I love him?”

Lando looked like his entire world had been completely shaken. “You love him,” he repeated, staring incredulously down at her.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Oi, mate, why’s that so hard to believe?”

Lando just groaned in exasperation. “You do not understand how hard it is, being friends with a guy for literal years, and never knowing he had a girlfriend—let alone a WIFE.”

“Mate, I’m pretty sure that says more about you than me,” Oscar told him bluntly.

Lando shot him a glare. “Oh, and you’re what? Mister Emotional Intelligence? You’ve been hiding this for years!”

Oscar shrugged. “Never came up in conversation.”

Lando looked horrified. “Don’t put this on me!”

Oscar shrugged. “You never asked.”

Lando flopped onto the couch, rubbing his face. “Unbelievable.”

His wife stifled a laugh, the corners of her mouth tugging upward as she watched Lando in his current state.

Lando, meanwhile, had moved to the “trying to wrap his head around this situation” portion of his breakdown.

“Okay, no. We’re fixing this. Immediately.”

Oscar sighed. “Lando—”

Lando pointed at the phone. “I need to meet her.”

Oscar sighed. “Fine. Silverstone.”

Lando gasped. “Really?!?”

Oscar deadpanned. “No, I just said it for fun.”

Lando turned back to the phone. “Mrs. Piastri, I will see you at Silverstone.”

She laughed. “Looking forward to it.”

Lando nodded firmly, then turned back to Oscar. “I will be grilling you for details later.”

Oscar sighed. “Of course you will.”

Lando stood dramatically. “Good. Carry on.” And then he walked out like he had just personally fixed the situation.

Oscar turned back to his wife, who was fully laughing.

“I love Lando,” she said. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened.”

Oscar sighed. “I regret everything.”

She smirked. “Love you.”

Oscar huffed. “Yeah, yeah. Love you too.”

And somewhere, in the distance, Lando was plotting.

****

@/oscarpiastri ✅

Posted: 1 day ago

Caption:

So, the internet (and, more importantly, Lando) just found out I’m married.

To be honest, I didn’t think it was a secret. I’ve been married for years. I assumed people knew. Turns out, I was very, very wrong.

Yes, I’m married. Have been for five years this summer.

So, meet my wife—my best friend, my favorite person in the world, and the only one who has somehow put up with me for this long.

We met when we were 15. Two kids at boarding school, thrown together by pure chance. The only open seat in class was next to me, so she took it. I stole a pen from her once—completely by accident—but she still let me borrow her pens after that. Eventually, she started carrying a second one just for me. I told myself that meant something.

She always knew when I was having a bad day, even when I hadn’t said a word. She made school bearable, made exams feel less stressful, made me laugh even when all I wanted to do was complain. Somewhere between stolen lunch breaks and long walks back to the dorms, between late-night study sessions and whispered conversations about the future, I fell in love with her. Quietly, all at once and over time. I knew by the time we were 15—maybe even before then.

She was my best friend first. The person I trusted most. The one who understood the parts of my life that didn’t always make sense to everyone else. By the time I worked up the nerve to tell her how I felt, she just smiled and said, ‘I was wondering when you’d figure that out.’ Like she had known all along.

When I left school to chase this ridiculous dream, she didn’t ask me to stay. She just told me she’d be there, no matter how far I went. And she was. Through every win, every loss, every moment of self-doubt.

So when we turned 18, we didn’t wait. Three weeks after graduation, we walked into a registry office in London, signed a piece of paper, and walked out married. No grand ceremony, no expensive dress. Just us, two rings we picked out in under twenty minutes, and a promise we already knew we’d keep.

We told our families afterward. Some took it better than others.

I know getting married at 18 sounds a little mad. People told us we were too young, that we should wait, that we were being reckless. But why? I had no doubt in my mind then, and I have none now.

She’s still the first person I call after every race, no matter the result. She’s the one who tells me to go to bed when I’m up too late on the sim, who reminds me to eat when I forget, who talks me down when I start overthinking. She’s been with me through everything. Through junior categories to F1, through every high and every low, through the moments I wanted to quit and the ones where I felt like I was on top of the world.

She’s my best friend, my greatest love, the only person who can call me out on my nonsense and get away with it.

So, no, I don’t have a tattoo. But I do have a wife. The person who still looks at me like I’m just that 15-year-old kid stealing a pen and falling in love before he even realizes it’s happening.

I have no idea how I convinced her to marry me, but I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

10/10, would always marry her again. ❤️

Comments:

@/landonorris: FIVE YEARS??? YOU HAVE BEEN MARRIED FOR FIVE YEARS???

↪️ @/oscarpiastri: I assumed you knew. ↪️ @/landonorris: WHEN HAVE YOU EVER MENTIONED HAVING A WIFE???

↪️ @/mrspiastri: He does this thing where he forgets people don’t just know things.

@/danielricciardo: High school sweethearts. Eloped at 18. Best plot twist of the season.

@/mclaren: We have so many questions.↪️ @mrspiastri: Submit them in an organized document, I’ll answer the best ones.

@/f1updates: Today in ‘Oscar Piastri casually drops life-changing information’—he has a whole wife. Lando learned this at the same time as the rest of us.

@/lanoscult: Not Lando finding out with the fans and having a full existential crisis on stage 💀💀💀

@/thef1editz: POV: You just found out your best friend has been MARRIED FOR YEARS and never told you (attached video of Lando’s reaction with dramatic music)

@/wagsf1: WE NEED A FULL BOARDING SCHOOL LOVE STORY IMMEDIATELY.

@/f1tea: No thoughts, just Lando yelling ‘WHO GETS MARRIED AT 18’ like he was personally betrayed.

@/padlockthegrid: We’ve been watching this man for YEARS and never once suspected a wife??

@/georgerussell63: I feel like this is something you announce at a dinner, not in front of an audience.

↪️ @/oscarpiastri: I thought I had mentioned it. ↪️ @/landonorris: YOU DID NOT.

@/charles_leclerc: This is the greatest plot twist in F1 history.

@/fernandoalo_oficial: I respect this level of secrecy.

@/chaoticneutralf1: Oscar Piastri is terrifying. He just DOES things and assumes people KNOW.

@/mclaren: Oscar, any other life-altering facts you’ve forgotten to mention? ↪️ @/oscarpiastri: Not that I can think of. ↪️ @/landonorris: I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT.

@/mrspiastri: 10/10, would marry him again. (Even if he forgets to tell people.) ↪️ @/oscarpiastri: Love you too. ❤️

@/danielricciardo: Oscar, mate, do you have any other shocking secrets? ↪️ @/oscarpiastri: Not really. ↪️ @/landonorris: I AM NOT CONVINCED.

@/chaoticgrid: I will think about this every day for the rest of my life.

@/mrspiastri

Posted: 2h ago

Caption:

"So. Yesterday happened.

Since Oscar apparently forgot that telling people you’re married is something you actually have to do, I’ve spent the last 24 hours watching the internet lose its collective mind. You guys have questions. Lots of them. So, let’s go:

1. Wait… Oscar is MARRIED?!

Yes. Since we were 18. I know, I know. We should have made a big announcement. Or at the very least told his teammate. Oops.

2. When did you get married?!Right after we graduated. We were 18, ran off to London, signed a piece of paper, and then told our families. In hindsight, we probably should have done that last part beforehand, but hey, we were young and in love (and slightly impulsive).

3. Why so young?Because we were sure. It wasn’t impulsive—it was inevitable. People told us we were crazy, that we should wait, that we’d change. But we didn’t. We grew up together, and we only ever grew toward each other. If I had to choose again, I’d do it exactly the same way.

3. How did you two meet?We were 15, stuck at boarding school, and Oscar stole my pen. He swears it was an accident. I maintain that it was the moment he decided to make me fall in love with him.

5. Did you really not tell Lando?I thought he knew! Everyone close to us does! I assumed Oscar had mentioned it at some point, but, well… you all saw what happened. Apparently, Oscar’s ‘private life’ policy extended to his teammate of three years. Which is why we all got to witness his public breakdown in real-time.

5. Does this mean you’re an F1 WAG?Technically? Yes. Do I have the outfit coordination and expensive handbag collection to back it up? No. I do steal Oscar’s team hoodies, so that counts, right?

6. What’s your favorite thing about Oscar?The way he loves—quietly, steadily, with his whole heart. He still waits up for me if I’m out late, still kisses my forehead when he thinks I’m asleep, still tucks handwritten notes into his race gloves like he did back when he was karting. I’ve loved him for so long that I can’t imagine my life any other way.

7. And since Oscar said ‘10/10 would always marry her again,’ what’s your answer? 10/10. No regrets, no hesitation, no doubt. I’d marry him a thousand times over.

Comments:

@/landonorris: I’M STILL NOT OVER THIS. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: I’m never going to live this down, am I? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nope. But I love you anyway.

@/danielricciardo: This is the kind of romance novel material I expect from an F1 WAG.

@/mclaren: We demand a Netflix special on this.

@/wagsf1: This is the cutest thing we’ve ever seen. Please post more.

@/f1updates: The way she said ‘10/10’ like it was the easiest question ever 😭💖

@/wagsf1: He still tucks handwritten notes into his race gloves??? I’M GONNA CRY.

@/f1updates: This woman just broke the internet by being casually, devastatingly in love.

@/f1fangirl92: The way this man has been secretly in love since he was FIFTEEN is actually lethal.”

@/fanaccountoscarpiastri: So what I’m getting is that Oscar is out here winning races and marriage. I respect it.

@/paddockinsider: Be so honest. What did people say when they found out you guys eloped? @/mrspiastri: Oh, everyone thought we were insane. Random people who barely knew us were convinced we’d crash and burn. Now we get a lot of, ‘Wow, you guys really made it work.’ ↪️@/oscarpiastri: Wasn’t hard.

@/f1obsessed: Did you guys ever break up? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nope. Not once. Not even a ‘we were on a break’ situation. We’ve been together since we were 15, which is wild when I think about it.

@/fanofeverything: Why did Oscar keep it a secret??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: It wasn’t a secret so much as… he never felt the need to bring it up? It’s not like he was hiding me in a basement somewhere lol. He just doesn’t talk about personal stuff unless someone asks directly. Which, apparently, no one did.

@/gridgossip: So who knew? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Mark. Andrea. Probably Zak? Our families, obviously. And, um. That might be it?

@/paddockinsider: Did Oscar just assume that everyone knew you guys were married? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. 100%. This man did not think to mention it because he thought it was ‘obvious. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: “OBVIOUS TO WHO??” ↪️@/mrspiastri: To him. He just figured if someone asked if he was married, he’d say yes. But since no one did, he saw no need to bring it up. ↪️@/landonorris: HOW IS THAT YOUR LOGIC. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: No one asked. ↪️@/landonorris: I’M GOING TO LOSE MY MIND.

@/f1insider: We need more details about Mark Webber finding out. ↪️@/mrspiastri: I swear I saw his soul leave his body. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: OSCAR, EXPLAIN YOURSELF. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: Didn’t seem necessary to tell him at the time ↪️@/landonorris: “HOW IS MARRIAGE NOT NECESSARY INFORMATION???” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Mark Webber sat Oscar down like a disappointed dad and was like, ‘Mate. How do you just… forget to mention you’re married? ↪️@/mclarenupdates: “And what did Oscar say??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: “He just shrugged and went, ‘Not really relevant to racing. ↪️@/landonorris: “I NEED TO LIE DOWN.”

@/paddockdrama: People always joke that Oscar is a robot. Does that ever bother him? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Not really. I once asked him and he just shrugged and went ‘Doesn’t bother me. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone as long as you know how much I love you.’ ↪️@/landonorris: NO BECAUSE WHERE WAS THIS ENERGY WHEN I TOLD HIM I GOT P2 AND HE JUST WENT ‘NICE’??? ↪️@/oscarpiastri: It was nice.

@/paddockgossip: “Did ANY other drivers know???” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oscar’s Prema teammates figured it out. The rest of the grid? Oblivious. ↪️@/landonorris: How did Oscar never accidentally spill?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: He doesn’t overshare. Meanwhile, I am still in awe that he just assumed people knew.

@/foreverf1: Wait, I need to know—who said ‘I love you’ first? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oscar did. Completely out of nowhere, too. We were 16, lying on the floor doing homework, and he just looked over and went, ‘Oh. I love you.’ Like he just realized it in real time.

@/f1teaqueen: Okay but like… NO COLD FEET?? Not even a little?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nope. We were 100% sure.

@/wildforwags: Who actually officiated your wedding?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Some very lovely lady at a London registry office. She called us ‘sweethearts’ and I think she knew we were completely insane, but she was very supportive about it.

@/racewifematerial: What did you wear?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: A white sundress I bought the week before. Oscar wore a suit that was slightly too big because he borrowed it last-minute. We looked like two teenagers who ran away from home, which, to be fair… we kinda did.

@/formula1fangirl: Who took the wedding photos? ↪️@/mrspiastri: We handed a disposable camera to two very confused tourists outside the registry office. They did a great job.

@/landoandchaos: Oscar, babe, how did you manage to keep this from your friend for FIVE YEARS? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Listen, Oscar is elite at two things: racing and not offering information unless directly asked.

@/mclarenfanatic: Did he really think Lando knew? ↪️@/mrspiastri: 100%. I asked him and he was like, ‘Well, I didn’t HIDE it?’ And I was like, ‘Oscar. That is not the same thing as telling people.’

@/fastandflawless: Be honest, did you ever have a moment of ‘Oh my god, I married an 18-year-old racing driver, what have I done’?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Not really? I mean, other people definitely thought we were nuts, but we knew exactly what we were doing. The real crisis moment was a few months later when I realized I’d have to file taxes as a married person.

@/waggossip: “Did Oscar have a big, romantic proposal, or was it just like, ‘Wanna get married?’ ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oscar woke up one morning, looked at me, and said, ‘We should get married. Logically, it makes sense.’ ↪️@/f1softies: YOU’RE JOKING. ↪️@/mrspiastri: I was like, ‘Okay?’ And he said, ‘Great, I’ll book an appointment.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: So let me get this straight. No knee. No ring. Just ‘We should get married.’ ↪️@/mrspiastri: Correct. ↪️@/f1wifeguys: And you weren’t even a little mad?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nah, I thought it was funny. If he’d done some big, dramatic proposal, I’d have thought he was concussed. ↪️@/mclarenupdates: Please tell me he at least got a ring after that. ↪️@/mrspiastri: He did! We picked one out together. It has both our birthstones.

@/paddocktea: Okay, but does he ever get super romantic out of nowhere?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, absolutely. Once, when I was really stressed out, he just looked at me and said, ‘You don’t have to do everything alone. I’m always going to be here.’ ↪️@/f1wifeguys: STOP THAT’S SO SWEET.

@/paddockinsider: What’s the most uncharacteristically romantic thing he’s ever said? ↪️@/mrspiastri: We were lying in bed once, just scrolling on our phones, and out of nowhere he goes, ‘You know, no matter how my life turned out, I think I would’ve found you in every version of it.’ And then he just went back to reading about Formula 2 tire degradation like he hadn’t just ruined me.

@/backmarkerbrigade: “So, like, what did you do after you got married? Fancy dinner? Celebratory champagne?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: ...Sandwichs at Pret-a-manger

@/gridlove: What’s the most Oscar Piastri way he’s ever told you he loves you? ↪️@/mrspiastri: One time he texted me ‘You’re my favorite human’ completely out of the blue. No context. No follow-up. Just that. It was adorable.

@/pitlaneprincess: Who cried more at the wedding? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Me. Oscar was annoyingly composed. He did squeeze my hand really tight when we said our vows, though.

@/drsforlove: “This man has been giving post-race interviews like ‘Yeah, good race, car felt good’ and then just casually drops a wife like it’s a tire strategy.

@/wildforwags: What’s something you wish you had done for the wedding? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Honestly, nothing. It was chaotic, but it was ours.

@/pitstopqueen: What was your first impression of Oscar? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Honestly? I thought he was too quiet. Then he made some dry, sarcastic comment under his breath in class, and I immediately knew we’d get along.

@/tracksidegossip: How long did you actually plan the wedding? ↪️@/mrspiastri: A week. And ‘plan’ is a generous term. We just Googled how to get married in London, booked the appointment, and that was that.

@/f1chaos: Oscar, be so honest, did you really think people would just ‘figure it out’ without you ever saying anything?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. Yes, he did.

@/paddockprincess: Wait, so how did Oscar’s family react to you guys getting married so young? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Honestly? They were really supportive. His mum just went, ‘That makes sense,’ and his dad laughed. Oscar’s family has always been the ‘if you’re happy, we’re happy’ type. ↪️@/oscarpiastriupdates: “So no dramatic reactions from the Piastris??” ↪️@/mrspiastri: “The most dramatic reaction was his mum sighing and saying, ‘You two are hopeless.’ But she meant it fondly.”

@/chaosinthepaddock: What about your family? 👀 ↪️@/mrspiastri: Ah. Well. See, they did not get over it in five minutes. ↪️@/f1tea: Omg. HOW mad were they??” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Very. Like, ‘multiple angry phone calls’ mad. Like, ‘we refuse to speak to you for years’ mad.” ↪️@/landonorris: Did they actually say you were ruining your life? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, yes. There was a lot of dramatic ‘you’re throwing your future away’ speeches. Which was funny, because my future was literally the same, just with more love and an Australian husband. ↪️@/piastrination: Did Oscar ever try to talk to them about it? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, he tried. But Oscar is Oscar, so he just very calmly said, ‘I love her, we’re married, and that’s not changing.’ Which, surprisingly, did not make them less angry. ↪️@/f1gossip: Have they come around since then? ↪️@/mrspiastri: No.

@/landonorris: Lando’s reaction when he found out vs. your family’s reaction when they found out—who had the bigger meltdown?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, my family by far. Lando was just confused—my relatives were furious.

@/gridgirlgossip: Oscar Piastri, the man who quietly eloped at 18, dealt with family drama, and then just went racing like nothing happened.

@/drsdiva: “This is the wildest reveal in F1 history. Netflix, do your job.”

@/f1softies: “The fact that Oscar has been in wife guy mode for YEARS and we had no idea.”

@/lando4lyf: Lando: ‘YOU GOT A TATTOO?!’ Oscar: ‘No, I’m married.’ Lando: internal system crash

@/piastriupdates: “Lando Norris finding out live on stage that his teammate has been MARRIED FOR FIVE YEARS is the funniest thing to ever happen in F1.

@/f1memesdaily: “Oscar Piastri eloped at 18, never told anyone, and assumed people would figure it out while Lando was out here thinking he was a single man. I respect the commitment to quiet chaos.”

@/danielricciardo: Mate. You were MARRIED this whole time?? I thought you were just too focused on racing to date anyone, and instead you were out here with a whole WIFE???

@/charles_leclerc: You were married at 18? And Oscar thought that was a normal thing to do?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. Yes, he did.

@/alex_albon: Tbh, I respect it. Absolute power move. Eloping at 18, casually keeping it a secret, and then just dropping it on Lando like that?? Unreal. ↪️@/mrspiastri: See? Alex gets it.

@/robertschwartzman: Oh, now everyone suddenly cares. Meanwhile, WE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME. ↪️@/mrspiastri: To be fair, you two were basically forced to know. ↪️@/robertschwartzman: Yeah, because he wouldn’t shut up about you. ‘Oh, I can’t come to dinner, I have to call my wife.’ ‘Oh, I’m flying to London to see my wife.’ Mate, we were 19, and you were out here married like a 40-year-old. ↪️@/mrspiastri: He still does that, btw. ↪️@/robertschwartzman: Not surprised. The man has been whipped since day one.

@/jehannadaruvala: “The funniest part was watching Oscar just assume we all knew. Like we’d be talking about normal 19-year-old things, and he’d casually drop, ‘Yeah, my wife said the same thing.’ ↪️@/mrspiastri: And did any of you ever ask for clarification? ↪️@/jehannadaruvala: Oh, we asked. His response? ‘What about it?’ LIKE SIR. ↪️@/robertschwartzman: “One time, I straight-up said, ‘Mate, do you realize you’re married?’ and he just blinked at me and said, ‘Yeah.’ As if that was a totally normal thing for a teenage racing driver. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Sounds about right. ↪️@/ollicaldwell: “Honestly, we stopped questioning it after a while. He was just so chill about it. ↪️@/arthur_leclerc: Yeah, it was like, ‘Oh, Oscar’s in a committed marriage while we’re all just trying to survive? Cool, cool.’

@/f1softies: Okay but does he ever have romantic moments?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, absolutely. They just happen out of nowhere and leave me emotionally ruined. ↪️@/mclarenupdates: Example, please. ↪️@/mrspiastri: One time, I was having a bad day, and he just looked at me and said, ‘You know, the best part of my life is that I get to love you.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: EXCUSE ME SIR??? ↪️@/landonorris: “WHAT THE HELL.”

@/f1updates: So you eloped… but do you think you’ll ever have a big wedding? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Not really. Oscar and I don’t love being the center of attention, so a big wedding never appealed to us. ↪️@/landonorris: THEN CAN I HAVE A BIG PARTY ON YOUR BEHALF??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: We literally just had a wedding reveal by accident and you want to throw an even bigger event??? ↪️@/landonorris: YES.

@/f1insider: So how did Mark find out?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: We didn’t tell him. He found out when Oscar referred to me as his wife in conversation. ↪️@/mrspiastri: We were in a meeting. Mark stopped mid-sentence and went, ‘Your WHAT?’ ↪️@/landonorris: HIS WORLDVIEW SHATTERED. @/mrspiastri: Oscar, completely unbothered, said, ‘Oh. Yeah. We got married a while ago.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: I CAN HEAR MARK WEBBER’S EXASPERATION. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Mark didn’t speak for a full minute. Then he sighed, rubbed his temples, and went, ‘Mate. You can’t just drop that into conversation like it’s nothing.’ ↪️@/oscarpiastri: I didn’t see the problem. ↪️@/landonorris: YOU WOULDN’T. ↪️@/f1updates: Does Mark ever bring it up now? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Every single time we see him. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: It’s been years. He should let it go. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Finally he just said, ‘Yeah, I should have figured.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: EXCUSE ME???” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Apparently, Oscar was too relaxed for someone hiding a major life decision. Mark said he’d seen too many drivers try to balance racing and relationships, and he knew Oscar had already locked it down. ‘Kid’s too stable for anything else.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: That’s actually terrifying. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Immediately after he went ‘Alright. Suppose we better make sure this doesn’t derail your career then.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: Classic Webber. ↪️@/mclarenupdates: Did he at least congratulate you? ↪️@mrspiastri: Yes. Eventually. But only after making sure we’d thought it through. ↪️@/f1softies: Did he give you a lecture?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Not really. More like a ‘If you’re doing this, do it properly’ talk.

@/drsfordays: The fact that her family was furious while Mark Webber just sighed is sending me.

@/oscarpiastri_fanclub: So Mark Webber has known this whole time??” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. And I think he’s still mildly offended that Oscar didn’t ask for any advice beforehand.

@/f1updates: Why doesn’t Oscar wear a wedding ring? ↪️@/mrspiastri: He does! He just doesn’t wear it when driving. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: Okay but I have never seen this man wear a ring in my life. ↪️@/mrspiastri: He wears it in the off-season. Also, fun fact: he has a silicone one for training that he keeps losing.

@/f1updates: Oscar is so calm and logical on track. Is he the same at home? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Mostly, yeah. But sometimes, out of nowhere, he’ll just say the most devastatingly romantic thing. ↪️@/f1softies: EXAMPLES PLEASE. ↪️@/mrspiastri: One time, I joked, ‘You’re stuck with me forever,’ and he just looked at me, completely serious, and said, ‘That was the goal.’

@/f1updates: Do you ever wish you dated other people before settling down? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nope. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: Not even a little? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Why would I? I already found my person.

@/f1updates: Serious question—why don’t you ever go to races?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Anxiety. And I like my privacy. Nobody needs to see my terrified facial expressions. ↪️@/f1memes: You really married a professional racing driver and said no thanks to the circus.” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yep. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: And Oscar’s fine with that??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: He knew what he was signing up for.

@/landonorris: So I still haven’t met you because??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Because you are chaos incarnate and I am scared. ↪️@/landonorris: I AM DELIGHTFUL. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oscar tells me otherwise. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: OSCAR, SAY IT AIN’T SO. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: No comment.

@/mclarenmemes: So you just send him off to work and watch from home like it’s the Super Bowl? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. ↪️@/f1memes: AND HE’S FINE WITH THAT??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: He comes home, I feed him, we watch race replays together, and he tells me all the paddock gossip. We have an excellent system. ↪️@/f1updates: Oscar, confirm or deny? ↪️@/oscarpiastri: Confirmed.

@/f1updates: So, will we ever see you at a race? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Maybe. One day. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: OSCAR, MAKE HER COME TO ONE. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: She does whatever she wants. I learned that a long time ago.

#formula 1 #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 smau #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 grid x reader #f1 grid fanfiction #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #Oscar Piastri smau #Oscar Piastri fic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #op81 fic #op81 imagine

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musings-by-certified-bi · 5 months ago

Note

Zuko of course ends up being permanently shuffled along to where ever the kids are. The women of course would not have let this group of strangers (especially armed, controlling men) near their children anyways, but Zuko acts as a perfect deterrent, since even if you like kids you probably don't want to hang out with the shouty walking teenage angst that is Zuko. The men never realize that keeping him with the kids is the perfect excuse to keep him out of any meetings, and away from any actual questions of how he got there. After all it's not like the men are inclined to include him in the hero fantasy they believe of themselves.

So he's elbowed into being called something else and is waved away as a child from another village they took in. Pakku doesn't even seem to notice how he resembles the exact missing boy Iroh asked the white lotus to keep an eye out for, because he's too busy giving Kanna reasons to finally snap and end him. His attempts at reconciliation are not going well, especially not after he told of her grand kids without masking his annoyance at Sokka's... everything.

Most of the men stay in the rebuilt walls of wolf cove, with a few stragglers leaving to reach out to the other tribes. When the men arrive, the women are well into prepping for winter and while men means more hunters, it also means more mouths making comments on the food. More clothes that need repair (and wearers with no respect for the labor that takes). More interruptions when the storyteller is speaking and not the curious interruptions of the children (including more recently a certain teen) nor the rude interruptions of an indignant prince who somehow chafed less because for all his disrespect he never laughed at them for being silly little girls who couldn't get the details right to simple tales, never mind this is the version their tribe had told for generations and held dear. It means more than a few of the married women without kids get rudely hit on, with the excuse being the lack of betrothal necklaces, followed up by snide comments at their husbands' ability to provide... the same husbands that actually went to fight in the war for their tribe's future.

In little and big ways autonomy from the women was taken away bit by bit. And the children kept asking why. Why not fight back, demand respect? After all the oldest among them know that their fathers didn't act like this, all of them remember Sokka, and even the prince treated them like people (he just happened to be an ass to a lot of people). How do you tell children for all the talk of sister tribes, that this was nothing more than an occupation? Sure one with seemingly good intentions on the surface, but doesn't that just make it worse?

During all this Zuko is sitting in his corner doing chores, with at least one child hanging off him. He of course is baffled at why the same women who had no trouble putting him in his place aren't doing the same now. Until finally one of the women simply asks (after the children are in bed) how that would work. The men are better armed, more trained, not inclined to listen, and it's not like they can leave their home just as winter hits. And suddenly Zuko is reminded of all the times he was told to pick his battles. Every insult Uncle took, every slight at his mother, every time his sister laughed at someone doubting her. Of course he still isn't any good at keeping his mouth shut, and he doesn't agree but he gets it the point she's making. He also is less inclined to try and start arguments once winter hits and Agni is barely present. He learns the hard way how one determines when the day starts during months of dark. The answer is being pushed out of bed by a surprisingly strong old lady, as to not be in Kanna's hut when Pakku swings by.

Eventually Agni returns and Pakku and some of the men leave. The women are unimpressed when no one says why. Clearly something is happening given he got mail before hand. Zuko mentions the comet and a few realizations occur. The most pressing is that this probably means some sort of escalation of the war (hopefully the end of it, but that's a hope that's been shrinking for decades). The other realization is that their fire hazard is going to be extra fiery and despite the amount of times men have walked in on Zuko heating water or giving of steam, somehow they haven't noticed he can fire bend and it's probably best to keep it that way. Which starts the debate of where to put him. Quite a few different suggestions are made but eventually it's decided they'll just leave him in Kanna's hut since Pakku isn't around to try and swing by. There are several close calls during this, but the children come through. They aren't willing to loose their personal heater. Zuko is not apart of the debate and doesn't realize his bending is a secret. Just his origin.

As spring truly arrives the tension finally burst. Hakoda arrives home with his children, his crew and (ugh) Pakku, to find the new wall has had a chunk fire bended out of it, at least 3 northerners knocked out, a water bender dueling a fire bending teen (he assumed the teen Pakku mentioned was... a water tribe teenager and not a clearly trained fire bender) with the children lobbing snow balls and rocks at the fight.. and surprisingly not aiming at the fire bender. He finally gets the fight broken up, asking what in the world is going on. To which Kanna replies that the fire prince was kindly letting their northern guests know that their welcome had worn itself out.

Hi ! prompt idea : What if Zuko was armed during the first episode and was stranded with the water tribe while the avatar left with Katara and Sokka, Iroh on his trail for white lotus reasons.

Oh we are going to have us some FUN with "stranded with the water tribe", say no more.

---

Zuko was dripping, and steaming, and staring down two dozen women and their gaggle of small children, plus that old not-the-Avatar crone from earlier. They were all cowering away from him. Which was--

Good. It was good. If they were cowering, then they hadn’t noticed how steam was not flames. He wasn’t sure he could make flames, not after the arctic water he’d landed in, with that last sight of the Avatar glowing; not after surfacing under the ice pack, after swimming, after kicking slamming breaking through and his ship was gone and there was only ocean all around and

and he’d made it back to this pathetic little camp of the Southern Water Tribe, because that was the only place he knew for sure would have shelter, and he wasn’t going to die just because they were all staring at him, even if felt like he would.

Even if the old not-the-Avatar woman could probably take him, right now. But she didn’t know that.

Zuko pulled himself up, taller than her by at least a few inches, and blew steam from his nose.

“I am commandeering one of your huts,” he said. And added, because Uncle said even a prince should be gracious: “You may choose which one.”

---

She choose her own.

...The only one without children that flames might scar, or younger women to catch a soldier’s interests.

Zuko sat by her fire and determinedly started struggling out of his wet clothes and she was still in here with him--

Zuko pulled one of her animal pelts over himself, and finished fighting off his clothes. When he stuck his head back out, cheeks still reddened from what was obviously the cold, she dropped a parka on his head.

“Dry clothes, Your Highness,” she said.

The parka was much bigger than he was. He fell asleep hoping that the camp’s men were on a long, long hunting trip.

---

He woke up again. Kanna tucked her favorite ulu knife away, newly sharpened, and stopped contemplating the alternative.

---

“I am commandeering a ship,” he said.

The crone led him across the village, all twenty paces of it, to a row of canoes.

“Take whichever one you want,” she said. “Will you need help getting it to the water?”

Zuko looked at the canoes. Looked at the ocean. Watched a leopard seal, easily the size of the largest canoe, dozing just past the ice his own ship had broken through the day before. It was frozen again, a great icy arrow pointing from the waves to the village, snow already starting to cover it over.

Beyond was blue sky and gray ocean and white ice, floating in blocks like stepping stones, like boulders, like cliffsides.

There wasn’t even a hint of gray steel, or smoke. Or any land, besides what they were standing on.

He looked down at the canoes again. Somehow, they seemed even smaller.

“I, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat. “I’ll require supplies. Before I go.”

---

They... did not have supplies. Not extra ones. This didn’t stop them from trying to give him supplies, food and blankets and anything else he could think to ask for. But each blanket was a pelt hunted by someone’s grandfather, had been inked with images and stories by someone’s mother, was the favorite of someone’s husband or brother or uncle or cousin--

They couldn’t go to the nearest market to replace things, here.

And when they talked about food, about what they could spare, they kept sneaking glances to their children, who were sneaking glances at Zuko from the huts, sticking their heads just over the snowy ledges like their fur-trimmed hoods would hide them. Their mothers and aunts shooed them away, and they crept back, like barnacle-crabs. Zuko glared, and they disappeared.

“When are your men coming back?” he asked. “They’re hunting, aren’t they?”

Oh. So that was what they looked like, when they weren’t trying to hide their hate.

---

Zuko wrapped himself up in the same blanket that night. It was printed inside with fine lines and images, telling a story he didn’t know. He wondered whose favorite it was.

---

Kanna wondered how quickly he’d wake—if he’d wake—if she built the fire up with wet driftwood and tundra grass, if she had one of the younger girls boost up a child to plug the air hole, if she let the smoke draw its own blanket down over this fire child.

---

It was hard to know when to wake up, because the sun never set. So everyone was up before him, and they all had spears and clubs and—and nets, and trap lines, and snow googles with their single slat to protect the eyes from snow blindness. Zuko had seen those once, at the Ember Island Museum of Ethnography, where they’d gone when it was too rainy for anything more exciting.

Oh. They were going hunting.

“Give me that,” Zuko said, and took a spear.

The women looked at him. One of them adjusted her googles.

“I can hunt,” he scowled.

He did not, in fact, know how to hunt.

---

“Give me that,” the Fire Prince said, and Kanna almost, almost gave him her ulu. Humans, like most animals, had an artery in their legs that would bleed them quick enough.

She kept skinning the rabbit-mink one of the women had snared.

“I can help,” he said, with less grace than most of their toddlers. Likely with the skinning skills of a toddler, too. She wasn’t going to let their unwanted visitor ruin a perfectly good pelt.

“Chop the meat,” she said, and gave him a different knife. “It’s dinner.”

“...This is really sharp,” he said a moment later, looking at the knife with some surprise.

“Is it,” said Kanna.

---

Things the Fire Prince was convinced he could do: hunt (until he realized he couldn’t tell the tracks of a rabbit-mink from a leopard-rabbit apart); spear fish (at least he could dry himself); pack snow for an igloo (frustrated princes ran hot); ice fish (the prince was a problem that kept coming close to solving itself).

Things the Fire Prince could actually do: mince meat, increasingly finely; gather berries and herbs, once he stopped trying to crush them; dig roots, under toddler supervision; mend nets, after the intermediary step of learning to braid hair loopies.

“Can’t I take him ice fishing again?” asked one of the women, as she watched Prince Zuko put as much apparent concentration into braiding her daughter’s hair as his people had into exterminating hers.

“Wait,” said another woman, sitting up straight. “Wait wait wait. I just had an idea.”

---

Three words: Infinite. Hot. Water.

---

Summer was coming to an end. The sun actually set, now, and the night was getting longer, and colder. The salmon-otter nets were mended and ready. The smoking racks were still full of cod-lemmings. The children were all a little older, the women all a little more used to doing both halves of their tribes’ chores; a little more used to not watching the horizon, waiting for help to come.

The Fire Prince was staring at the canoes again.

“Are you actually going to try leaving in one of those?” Kanna asked.

“...No.”

“Come on, then; someone needs to watch the kids while the women are hunting.”

She didn’t leave him alone with them, of course. But she could have.

---

Elsewhere, the war continued.

The moon turned red, for a moment none could sleep through; they did not learn why.

The comet came and went, leaving their castaway prince laying on the beach, his breath fogging up into the night sky above him, as the energy crashed from his system as quickly as it had come. Above, lights began to dance in the sky; Zuko pulled his hood up, so none of those spirits—children, dead too soon—got any ideas about kicking his head off to be their ball.

The war had ended. The world didn’t feel any different; no one in the south would know until spring came again.

---

Suffice it to say, Sokka and Katara were not prepared for this particular homecoming.

#Sokka is confused at how Pakku didn't recognize the prince #Katara is pissed that Pakku said Gran Gran got back with him #Pakku is going through every stage of grief at once #Kanna is fucking tired of this shit #Hakoda is desperately wishing he wasn't in charge #The women and children are relieved to see their husband and fathers back #the northerners are realizing that they're in trouble #and Zuko is fucking indignant as usual #(the fight broke out because one of the women wanted to take the kids out for the day #and the guy on duty refused to let her go without an escort... and so Zuko fixed the wall problem... and caused a whole new one)#the intent was appreciated but yes he will get yelled out after everything gets settled #atla #Zuko gets a lot of winter reflection on himself and the FN #he is also very tired and sleepy the entire winter #He gets a few worried looks at his lack of shouting #alternatively the fight ends and Pakku demands answers #to which Hakoda is given the option to double down on the lie that Zuko was adopted into their tribe before he left and is definitely half #water which he does because fuck Pakku. Yep this kid has lived here for years and definitely isn't the prince #How dare the northerners treat a member of the SWT so badly.#This goes on for decades. Wang Fire level shenanigans here. No of course that isn't Fire Lord Zuko hes clearly a tribesman see his parka?

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redr0sewrites · 1 year ago

Text

NNN Hcs With The Hashiras

🥀A/n: the title says it all!! (i didnt include muichiro for obvious reasons)

🥀Cw: smut, dirty talk, praise, degradation, breeding kink (rengoku + sanemi), squirting (mitsuri)

🥀minors dni

🥀Pairing(s): Hashiras(minus muichiro) x reader (seperate)

Giyuu:

when you first suggested the idea of NNN to giyuu, he was kinda confused

why would you participate in a competition not to have sex? did you just not want to have sex with him?

after some gentle reassurance and explanation however, he agrees surprisingly quickly

not only is giyuu ridiculously patient, he also has incredible self restraint

he would make it to the end of the month, but i definitely think he would have "almost" moments

when the month is over, hes begging you to fuck him

claims that hes waited so long, why should he have to do any work?

the minute it's december first hes waking you up, mewling and grinding on your thigh half-delirious as hes whining in your ear, begging you to take control

teasing him throughout the month will only make him more determined to last longer, if only to inflict the same suffering onto you

giyuu is very, very sensitive and you can use that to your advantage in a variety of ways

he gets really blushy when you tease him, and its only amplified during NNN considering he can't even get himself off

he also has a tough time ignoring it when he gets horny, he just feels like the type to be soooo sensitive and it's torture when he can't even jack off to relieve the painful ache in his pants

Giyuu pinned you down, his chest flush with your back as his cock rubbed against your hole. He was a panting mess, shaking above you as he pushed inside slowly. One of his hands tangled itself in your hair, forcing you to look over your shoulder as he began to thrust into you steadily. Soft moans and whimpers filled the room, accompanied by the sound of skin slapping again skin. You could feel your orgasm building as a coil tightened in your stomach, and Giyuu let out a soft groan, signaling he was close as well. You clenched around him tightly, your release ripping through you as you clawed at the sheets. Above you, Giyuu tossed his head back and whispered your name like a prayer before cumming as well, filling your hole with his dripping seed. "Giyuu- ungh- wha-" you gasped, drool spilling from your lips as he sped up the pace. You had no time to catch your breath, and your hips jerked from overstimulation. "baby, i've waited a month, please?" Giyuu whispered in your ear, eyes blown wide with lust. You knew that you probably weren't going to be getting up anytime soon.

Tengen:

im sorry but he is not making the month

he'd last two weeks at best

you and his wives would probably all team up against him, and this man is unable to restrain himself when it comes to you

quickest way to get tengen to fold? lingerie

just the sight of you in some flashy, lacy undergarments has him practically dragging you to bed

teasing him while wearing lingerie? hes gone.

"fuck the stupid month," he'd grumble, throwing you over his shoulder and slapping your ass for good measure

tengen would be rougher than usual, hes pissed at you for teasing him after all

"hey!" you gasped, squirming in Tengens grip as he practically dragged you inside of the house. You and the other wives had been been training outside when all of a sudden Tengen had snatched you up, throwing you over his shoulder as the other wives followed behind you. Your husband ignored your indignated cries as he brought you to the bedroom and tossed you unceremoniously onto the mattress. Maki, Suma, and Hinatsuru joined you on the mattress, and you turned to look over your shoulder at Tengen. "giving up already?" you giggle, crawling over to the other wives at the head of the bed. Tengen Tengen smirked and slid up to you, pulling your undergarments off in seconds as your head rested in Hinatsuru's lap. Maki and Suma began to grind against eachother to your left as Tengen's breath fanned over your bare skin and thighs while Hinatsuru ran her fingers through your hair. The five of you were in for a long, long night~

Shinobu:

Shinobu is definitely making it, no questions asked

she's patient enough to wait the month, however she will be pissed when you deny her

would totally try to get back at you, Shinobu would wear lingerie under her uniform and flash you when nobody was looking

she would run her hands up and down your thighs during hashira meetings, fingers ghosting so close to where you want her but not quite

she would enter a room and sit on your lap, kissing you senseless until your grinding up against her and then walk away like nothing happened

she's teasing YOU

i don't think theres any way to get her to give in, but at 12:01 on December 1st your waking up to her head between your legs

she would make you work for every orgasm, edging you until your sobbing

"you made me wait for so long, shouldn't i make you wait a little too?"

Shinobu smirked, gently swiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks. She placed a finger on your tongue so you could taste the salty drops, and you let out another needy sob. "Are you getting desperate already, little butterfly?" She cooed, thrusting her fingers deeper inside of you. Another mewl escaped your lips as she fucked you dumb on her fingers, stretching you open and prodding the place inside you that made you see stars. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening, and you whimpered. "Pl-please Nobu, 'm gonna cum, please lemme cum-mgh-" Shinobu smirked at you, smacking your core lightly as you squirmed beneath her. She leaned down to whisper in your ear, caressing your sides slowly. "Shh, c'mon doll, I know you can take it. You made me wait a month to ruin you, didn't you? You can handle waiting a little longer to come~" Your body quaked at her words, soft sobs and pleads filling the air as you begged her to let you cum this time. Shinobu only shook her head, smirking and removing her hand as your orgasm begins to fade.

i went off there for a sec omg

Rengoku:

i think he would make it without too much trouble

i really don't think his sex drive is super high, and hes pretty patient as it is

so yea i def think he'd make it

unleeeesssss you teased him

listen, Rengoku LOOOOVES to please you

if you bat your lashes and play your cards right, he'll fold you in half and fuck you senseless less than a week into november

it would be the roughest, sloppiest sex yall ever have bc once Rengoku is done, hes done

He'll fuck you every day of the damn month just because he wants to, and be prepared bc this man has STAMINA

normally rengoku focuses solely on your pleasure, hes def the service dom type, hoowwweeeeverr, depending on how much you teased him, hes gonna be sm rougher

i also think rengoku would last the entire month just to irritate you because, lets face it, hes much more patient than you

just imagine begging him to fuck you at the end of the month, pleading with him to pay attention to you after he's deprived you of pleasure for so long... how could he say no to you?

the sound of skin slapping against skin and muffled groans filled the room as Rengoku pressed you down into the mattress. Rengoku leaned down, close enough to whisper in your ear, "fuck baby, can i- can i lift your legs up higher?" you nod, head foggy as he tossed your legs over his shoulder. Rengoku adjusted for a second, folding you over and beginning to thrust slowly. Your hips rocked against his as you clawed at the mattress, the new position allowing him to go so much deeper than before. "mhm baby, just like that. gonna make you feel so good after you waited so long, gonna fill you up so nice.."

Mitsuri:

i think Mitsuri would last ab a week before crumbling

She'd be so embarrassed about it, all blushy and shy

you haaave to tease her ab quitting so early, you'll get the most delectable whimpers from her<3

Mitsuri folds from MINIMAL teasing its almost like she wants to lose

once she gives in tho, please pamper her. teasing is okay but PRAISE HER‼️

shes a pillow princess at heart and will def want u to take care of her after u made her wait for sooo long

MITSURI IS SO SENSITIVE, AND ITS DEFINITELY AMPLIFIED AFTER SHE HELD BACK FOR SO LONG

she cries sm more easily during sex after being teased for so long, and it's impossible to NOT overstimulate her (she loves it)

tease her and praise her, overstimulate her and watch as she falls apart~

fat tears streamed down Mitsuri's pink cheeks as you pumped your fingers in and out of her slick heat, mesmerized by the sloppy sound it made. her legs trembled and her lip quivered as she sobbed from the overwhelming onslaught of pleasure, and you leaned up to kiss her on the cheek. "d'worry baby, im gonna make you feel all better," you coo, smiling as she whimpers. your fingers are coated in her slick, and her hips grind down onto your fingers with every thrust. "need you.." she whispers, reaching out to pull you closer. "kiss..?" she whimpers, large, teary eyes staring into yours. You chuckle, unable to deny her. "Of course~ how could i forget?" you kiss her slowly and sensually, running your tongue along her bottom lip and gently grabbing her jaw as you pushed your tongue inside her mouth. Mitsuri whined at the feeling, clenching ariund your fingers as her tongue collided against yours. her chest heaved, perky breasts bobbing as the coil in her stomach tightened. you could tell she was close, and moved the hand holding her face to massage one of her breasts as you deepened the kiss. your fingers curled inside her, pressing against her g spot as your thumb circled her clit. instantly, Mitsuri squealed, gushing around you and squirting onto your hand as she writhed in pleasure. "t-too much!!" she gasped, pulling away from the kiss as a thin trail of spit lingered between your mouths. "was that worth the wait baby?" Mitsuri blushes, nodding profusely.

Obanai:

i genuinely think obanai would last like

a week at most

im sorry but this man worships your every move, and theres NO way he can deny you anything

you tease him once and hes already bending you over, fucking you senseless as he bites harshly into your neck

or hes whining, dragging you on top of him and begging you to fuck him just right, ride him until hes a sweaty, needy mess

sex with Obanai after NNN would definitely be much rougher, he just cant hold himself back

he NEEDS to ravish you

you gasp as Obanai's cock sinks into you, his thick length filling you up as he spreads your legs. one hand rests on your inner thigh, the other entwining your hands together as he presses hasty kisses to your collarbone. your back arches off of the bed as he bites down hard on the sensitive skin, a dark hickey left in its wake. Obanai travels upwards, his teeth grazing your neck and shoulders as he kisses and nips at the exposed skin. his warm breathe flushes against your beck as he begins to thrust in and out of you in a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by your moans and whines. Obanai pants, his hand moving from your thigh to fondle at your chest. "can't believe you made me wait this long, bunny.." he murmured softly in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. "fuck, i missed this pretty hole..."

Sanemi:

he likes to think could make it the whole month but "doesn't care about a stupid ass challenge"

he cant make it the whole month hes too whipped for you

i think he would either last like. 15 minutes or two weeks theres no in between

Sanemi would either fuck you out of spite immediately after november starts or genuinely try but give up pretty early on and make up some bs excuse ab how he "doesnt even care"

either way, hes not making it 💀

prepare yourself, cuz the sex is gonna be ROUGH

Sanemi totally has a breeding kink, and the thought of NNN definitely ignites a feral need to fill you up- not a drop of his cum is wasted, hes bringing you to at LEAST 4 orgasms, and hes coming at least twice as well. hes also gonna finger fuck his cum back inside you, maybe he'll use a plug too just for the satisfaction of knowing that your filled up to the brim with him...

congrats!! u have a feral boyfriend

"s' too much!" you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as Sanemi fucked into you harshly from behind. his hips snapped against yours as you whimpered, face down in the sheets. Sanemi gave a swift slap to your ass and you sobbed, mewling as he fucked into your weeping hole even harder. "oh yea? shoulda thought of that before tellin' me about this stupid challenge," Sanemi hissed, thrusting deeper into your cervix as you keened. "im- m' close-" you hiccuped, warm, wet tears slid down your face as he looked into your glossy eyes. "oh yea? i thought it was t' much, doll- fuck-" he gasped as you tightened around him, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass was amplified even more as you came with a squeal. you came hard, coating Sanemi's cock and the bed below in your juices as your eyes rolled back into your head. "fuuugnck- doll your so tight- im coming too, don't waste a fucking drop of this- its what you get for makin' me wait.."

Gyomei:

i think Gyomei would make it

honestly i dont think he has a super high sex drive, and as much as he wants to please you, i think he would make it through the month with ease

hell at the end of the month hes praising YOU for lasting so long eithout him (in a genuine way, not in a condescending way ofc <33)

hes pretty chill when it comes to sex, but after NNN Gyomei might be a little rougher

he has STAMINA tho

prepare to be overstimulated bc he is MAKING SURE you are blissed outt af by the end

if your not a whiny mess in subspace then Gyomei's not having it

hes praising you for lasting so long, making you feel so good while bringing you to climax after climax for HOURS

he miiiiight fold if u bEG him but its a small possibility.

Gyomei held you in his lap as you squirmed, fucking yourself on his cock as you buried your face into his neck. "mnghh- forget how big you were.." you whine, grinding your hips sensually against his. Gyomei chuckles, brushing the hair off of your forehead and kissing you gently. "do you remember how many times you've come, little one?" your brow furrowed, your head felt foggy as you tried to remember. one of his hands squeezed your thigh reassuringly, and you whimpered, eyes rolling back slightly as you tightened around his cock. Gyomei hummed, taking in your overstimulated state as he brought you closer to release. "im so proud of you little light, you lasted the entire month," he cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your back as the coil in your stomach tightened. "let me reward you, my precious dove~"

RAHAHAHAHAHAHA ITS DONE ITS DONE ITS FINALLY DONE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HOLY FUCK HOLY SHIT ITS DONE KTS DONE ITS DONE I LOVE LIFE HALLELUJAH AJSHSAJHAJAAAJAA ITS JANUARYYYYY LMFAO

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my-castles-crumbling · 7 months ago

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warn - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 349

"Lupin!"

Startled, Remus looked up from his work to see Amelia Moore, a seventh-year in his advanced study group, making her way toward him. "Yes?" he asked politely. They weren't close, but they got on well enough.

"Listen," she said softly with the sombre air of delivering terrible news. "You like Black, right? Like...like, like?"

Blushing deeply, Remus blinked and stuttered, trying to decide whether or not to deny it. Was he that obvious?

"Well, I know you do," Amelia cut him off, waving her hand as if to wave off the question. "The point is, I'm here to warn you."

"Warn me?" he asked, deeply confused now.

"Yes, I just...I heard a rumor. It might not be true, but...you're such a nice, sweet, clever guy, and I just think you deserve better," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder.

Stomach sinking, Remus tilted his head to the side, waiting. Who was Sirius dating now?

"I heard from my friend in Slytherin that Potter and Black have been running around snogging in broom cupboards," Amelia continued quickly, eyeing him for a reaction.

Remus thought about that for a moment, completely stunned. "Thanks, Amelia," he muttered. He had to get somewhere to think.

"Sorry I had to be the one to tell you. I know all of you are close," she chirped. "But if you're ever free-"

"Right, yeah," He cut her off and stood to leave. Before he knew it, he found himself walking toward the Common Room.

Sirius and James? That was impossible. They were close, yes. Closer than close. Obnoxious in the way they were literal soul mates. But they were also deeply platonic. Remus had never questioned that. Even when he questioned everything else.

So why was James rumored to be kissing Sirius in broom cupboards? Unless...

"Holy fuck!" he gasped in the middle of the corridor, ignoring the looks of indignation from nearby portraits.

Sirius wasn't the only person with the surname 'Black' at Hogwarts.

Turning on the spot, Remus started heading to the dungeons. He had to have a talk with Regulus Black.

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suhtorus · 7 months ago

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mama's day. gojo satoru

fluff. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ parents au, non sorcerer au, mom!reader, family fluff, two unnamed sons and one baby girl. a little gift for myself ! ᡣ𐭩

little sunshines au

satoru has a plan for your birthday—a very detailed one.

step one. wake up the nuggets

it takes him less than two minutes to get the oldest out of bed, and there's really no point in waking up his baby girl since there's not much an eight-month-old can do.

the problem is your toddler.

"c'moooon, don't you wanna give mama her gifts?"

satoru's tone grows exasperated the longer his son refuses to cooperate, kicking his legs and throwing his nemo plushie at his face.

"no!"

the five-year-old immediately shushes his baby brother, only making the latter whine even more, tears now running down his chubby cheeks.

satoru feels his face fall upon seeing his son so upset, he should've expected the little ones not to take it too well to be woken up at six in the morning.

"hey," he tries softly this time, caressing the soft blond hairs of his toddler, "I'm sorry, mochi. can you forgive papa? go back to sleep, I'll wake you up when breakfast is ready, okay?"

the sobs end and now there's only small sniffles coming from the sleepy kid.

"oki."

step two. make breakfast

"like this?"

satoru leans down to inspect his son's work, brows furrowing as he tries, and fails, to read whatever gibberish his son tried to spell on top of the freshly made waffles.

with a loud smooch on the kid's cheek, satoru squeezes him in a tight hug, grinning proudly the way a father would. "a masterpiece. mama's gonna love it."

dad and son work surprisingly silent, focused on their own tasks. it doesn't take them long to have plates full of food and fruits, as well as freshly made juice.

"why don't you grab these," satoru hands his son two bags with the names of expensive brands on them, "while I go get your siblings. okay?"

"on it!"

step three. gifts

"happy birthday, mama~"

"ma-ma!"

you wake up with a start, surrounded by four pairs of blue eyes staring down at you.

"happy birthday, love of my life, mother of my kids, my one and only!"

satoru pecks your mouth as your brain processes the beaming faces of your three nuggets. your boys sit next to you, one on each side, while satoru holds the baby in the air right above your face.

your confused face finally eases into one of happiness (and relief).

"thank you, my little babies!" you smile drowsily, urging yourself to blink the sleep away as you smooch the faces of all three of your children. "mwah, mwah, mwahhh–"

your husband can't help but smile upon seeing you smothering the kids with kisses. and with his hold still on his baby girl, satoru tugs her away from you and nods at your lap.

"open your gifts, baby. we got you aaaall of your favorites." he winks at his son and the little one covers his mouth behind his tiny hand, giggling. "and we also made breakfast for mama, right?"

with a pointed look from satoru, your toddler remembers the plate of food on his lap.

"eat waffu, baby." your two-year-old offers you the plate full of waffles, pushing it towards your mouth, insistent. "eat it."

step four. spoil her rotten

your two boys happily run across the gardens while your baby girl crawls on the grass, squealing right behind her brothers.

"liked the surprise?"

your husband's arms wrap around your middle from behind. his hold is the greatest comfort you could've asked for.

"you mean waking up with three of your clones staring down at me while I sleep?" you snort, but there's no real bite in your tone. "I loved it. especially their drawing of me surrounded by blue-eyed mochi."

your eldest had insisted on drawing their little family—with you right in the center—and satoru thought it'd be funny to add the mochi instead of the kids.

"oh, but I'm not done yet, sweetheart." he spins you around in his arms, now grinning at you. "an entire weekend. you and me. what do you say?"

a groan slips past your lips and he immediately frowns, indignation clear on his face.

"c'mon, pretty. it's been a while since it was just the two of us." satoru goes for the puppy eyes, knowing that by doing so he already has a fifty percent of chance of winning. "you're not only a mother, but also a wife. let your doting husband pamper you."

"and who's watching over the kids? the baby??" you try to reason, glancing at your nuggets as they giggle their little hearts out as they play together. "satoru, we can't just leave."

"sweetheart, relaaaaax. ijichi got us covered."

oh, that poor man.

you make a mental note to give nanami a call.

#₊˚ʚ 🌱 little sunshines au #𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾ ‧₊˚☁️ skye #sunny skies #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fluff #divider by v6que

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thecoochiefairy · 8 months ago

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sniffles. suguru getou.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 blackfem!reader, drabble/headcannon, sick!suguru, grumpy!suguru, sweet!suguru,submissive!suguru, dominant! suguru, roleplay, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, riding, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, size kink, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ i’m just horny. sorry y’all.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ :: suguru is sick, and you, his girlfriend—just wants to nurse him back to health.

You should’ve brought your key.

Standing across from the door, you impatiently knock again, waiting for your boyfriend to open it. With an unfortunate cold, he’d crawl for dramatics. Suguru was currently suffering with a deadly indignation— his allergies, and you knew that as soon as he felt sick, he was practically on his deathbed. He was already grumpy on a regular basis. His intimidating frame, dark hair and tattoos made him almost scary. But that’s what you loved, you weren’t afraid of what came with him. Here you were, knocking on his door as you awaited for him to answer, holding the bag of medicine and soup he requested.

You roll your eyes as you hear shuffling along the door, yet it doesn’t open.

You then press impatiently, “C’mon, Suguru. You’re not gonna die from walking to the door.”

When the door opens, his broad frame towers over yours, black sweatshirt desperately trying to hide his muscular build, hair wrapped in a bun that nearly fell apart. His strident jaw glares down at you, glasses tilting as his eyes squint beneath the light of the sun. You notice the redness in his nose.

You tilt your head as you greet, “Hey, Sexy,” jokingly seeing his appearance.

He glares at you, his eyes showing no emotion. His allergies were hitting him hard and it was obvious. He was not a whiny man. But in sickness, he would not hide his complaints.

“Shut the fuck up,” He says with a grumble, opening the door wider to let you in nonetheless.

You hold the brown paper bag to your chest, walking in as you turn to him with a soft smile, “I got you some stuff, my little sick pumpkin.”

“I told you I didn’t want all that Mucinex and shit,” he grumbles, flopping himself along the couch, throwing his arms over his face with a groan.

“Oh boy, hush. I told you that it’ll open up your sinuses. Why so grumpy?”

“My ears hurt—all that fuckin’ mouth you got, it’s making my head hurt too,” He says bluntly.

Was he being a little mean? Sure. That didn’t stop you—he didn’t want to admit it yet, but he loved being babied by you, and you knew that. He rolls onto his side, facing away from you as he mumbles something under his breath. Despite his protests, he was happy you were there. He missed you.

“Oh yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you turn your head, “Maybe I’ll go back home. Leave you to die in your congestion.”

He freezes at your words, the thought of you leaving and not staying by his side made him want to throw a tantrum. He scoffs and looks away, trying to mask his real feelings.

“Do it then. I don’t need your little ass.”

You roll your eyes. Coming closer, you hop yourself along his lap as his arms are still thrown over his face, the impact making him groan.

You sigh sarcastically, “Poor baby…”

You then smack his arm, “Get the fuck up, Getou. Come take this medicine before I hurt you.”

He grunts at the feeling of you on his lap, peeking behind his arm to fully see you.

“Why should I?”

“Because I have a surprise for you,” you lean into his ear, voice warm and soft, “Don’t you wanna see it?”

He hums at your words, his ears picking up on the word ‘surprise’. He turns to look at you with a slight look of confusion.

“Maybe I do.” He says, his stubborn attitude slowly leaving.

He holds you around your waist with ease, leaning into your affection. Your nurturing aura made him soften his attitude, allowing you to finally take care of him.

He lets out a low grumble before correcting, “Hey, pretty baby.”

“See? All you had to do was be nice,” you kiss his nose, “Hi,” you then say softly, exhaling as you stand from his lap, “Stay here. I’m gonna run to the bathroom, I’ll be back!”

He grunts, allowing you to get up from his lap with no complaints. He missed you again. Nonetheless, he turns on his side, laying down along the couch as he waits for you to come back.

Time passes, the impatience of this man making him sit up along the sofa, manspreading with his head back along the velvet material. As he thought about going up to check on you, he heard your voice.

“Still sick, baby?”

You stand at the door—now in a completely different outfit. Wearing a white button up dress that clings to your frame, it looks to be a nurse’s uniform. It’s sheer, showing all your skin beneath the material, a heart along the chest pocket, your breasts nearly spilling from the top buttons that desperately hold them up. Your heels were tall, red bottoms matching the outfit you wear.

“Are you ready for me to take care of you?”

His eyes lock along your frame, tracing up and down your body hungrily in approval. His mouth went dry at the sight of your curves in the dress.

“You’re gonna’ be the fuckin’ death of me, you know that?”

His eyes scan you all the way down to your shoes before he tells you, “Come here.”

You giggle, “You shouldn’t be speaking to me like that, silly. I’m your nurse!”

You twist your hips as you come forward, pulling the stethoscope from around your neck as you insist, “Now, tell me what’s going on with you, Mr…Getou, is it?”

You looked good enough to eat in that nurse's uniform.

You were right though. You were his nurse. He leaned back into the cushions of the couch, spreading his legs wider to give you enough room to move between them.

He smirks at your comment, his body shifting up against the couch more. He plays along with you as well.

“Yes, it is.” He says, placing a hand on his chest, “I have a really high fever, I need extra care.”

You gasp softly, “A fever? I’m so sorry to hear that!” You shake your head, “May I…check where you feel warm?” You tilt your head, dark wavy hair flowing down to your hip, swaying over your shoulder.

His smirk grows at your words, raising an eyebrow in amusement. He invites, “Go ahead,” watching your soft curls dangle in front of your face.

He moves his body closer, his large frame hovering near you. He rests one hand on the back of the couch, the other coming to rest on the nape of your neck.

You lean closer, pressing your hand against his forehead, “Mmm, feels a little warm here…” you then move it to his neck, “Feels a little warm here as well. What symptoms are you experiencing?”

He leans his head into your touch on his forehead, letting out a sigh from the contact. He then leans his head back, exposing his neck to you, Adam’s apple throbbing. He lets out a low grunt after feeling your hand on it.

“I’m experiencing dizziness, a sore throat...” He takes a moment to speak again, “And I feel very hot in certain places.”

“Hot…” you tsks, “Sounds painful. I think you may need some ice.”

You stand from the sofa, going over to the fridge to grab a cup of ice as you ask, “You’re very…handsome, Mr. Getou. Do you have a girlfriend, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He watched you walk away from him, admiring the curve of your ass and the sway of your hips. He let out a low chuckle at your question, shaking his head slightly.

“Yeah, I do,” he said simply, his gaze never leaving you.

You lean yourself into the fridge, twisting your hips as you sigh, “That’s too bad…the good ones are always taken, it seems.”

His lips curl into a smirk at your comment, his eyes narrowing just slightly. He watches you closely, studying every movement you make.

"I guess it depends on who you ask.”

You raise an eyebrow, “A bad boy, it seems.”

“Shit. Might be.”

You close the fridge as you have some ice water within your hand, making your way back towards him.

“Sorry it took so long—“

It’s swift, you’re good at your game. You purposely trip, the ice water splashing all over your dress.

You gasp, watching as the water soaks into the top of your dress, nipples poking through the material, completely exposing your bare chest.

“Oh my goodness, Mr. Getou. I’m so sorry…”

You lean down, beginning to wipe the floor with the napkin you hold. Your movements are natural as you arch your back, heels pointing towards the ceiling.

He felt his dick jump as you leaned down to clean. He swallows hard, his eyes fixated on you.

“‘Need to be more careful,” He warns you, his voice growing huskier.

“I’m so clumsy…” you pout, “…A patient of mine has never made me this nervous,” you admit with a weak smile, grabbing for the ice that’s still within the cup.

You slow your movements, still in a crawling position as you look up to him, “Are you still feeling…hot?”

He smirks at your words, his body instinctively reacting to yours. He can feel himself getting harder under his pants, his breath hitching in anticipation.

“Hot as fuck. Damn near in hell.”

“I apologize…Let me help you cool down.”

You’re a minx. Taking an ice cube within your mouth, you come forward, crawling your way onto his lap. You take him by his hair and tug his head back, leaning forward, running the ice along his neck, allowing the ice to melt within your mouth as you drag your tongue along his throat.

You murmur, “Is that better?”

His breath hitches as you crawl onto his lap, his body stiffening under your touch. He lets out a low growl at the sensation of the ice melting in your mouth, the coolness seeping into his heated skin.

"That's..." He pauses, trying to gather his thoughts amidst the haze of pleasure, "That's definitely helping."

Your mouth is still cold, moving down his chest, eyes still upon his as you say, “I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate me assisting you in this way, Mr. Getou…”

"Fuck," he groans, his hands moving to your waist as he pulls you farther onto his lap.

He lets out a low growl at your words, his grip slightly tightens in your hair. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and possessive as he replies.

“She’ll understand. You’re taking very good care of me...” He says, his other hand sliding up your leg, feeling your bare skin.

You laugh, sultry to his ears. You then bring your mouth up to his jaw, stopping right at his lips as you hum, “What if I had a boyfriend…and he killed for me…”

His eyes narrow at your words, a dangerous glint flashing in them. He tightens his grip in your hair slightly, pulling your head back and away from his face.

"You'd let me kill him?"

“…Maybe,” your breath hitches, melting into his hands like putty.

“Then he’d have to put up a good ass fight.” He replies, his voice challenging. He pulls your head back even more, leaning forward and pressing his lips against your ear. “And I don’t lose.”

You’d never done role play before, not expecting him to play along like he was. Despite him not feeling well, he seemed to be enjoying your game. His tone makes you giggle, pulling your face down as you lock your mouth against his, dirtily making out with him, tongue struck out, messily pressing with his.

He let out a groan as your lips crashed against his, the feeling of your tongue in his mouth made him growl and become more aggressive. He grips the back of your head, holding you in place as he greedily kisses you back.

He breaks the kiss momentarily, panting heavily as he looks down at you. "You're fuckin’ sexy when you're like this," he murmurs, his voice husky.

The moment you go to respond, his hands clasps both of your wrists behind your back, trapping you in a way that makes you pout. You enjoyed the feeling of being in control, but you knew he always needed the upper hand.

You roll your eyes, “That’s not fair…”

“Cut that fuckin’ attitude before you don’t get anything from me.”

He uses his other hand to tilt your head to the side, giving him access to your neck. Leaning forward, he presses his lips along the side of your throat and begins sucking on the skin.

You gasp softly at his lips along your skin, knowing the skin of your neck was sensitive. You breathily sigh, “S—Suguru…” tugging at your trapped hands, wanting to be freed.

“You want your hands?”

You nod your head, feeling his other hand now tugging at your hair, sliding down as yanks the material of the dress you wear, spanking the skin of your ass. Your teeth dig into your lips at his aggression, your skin feeling on fire.

“Say out loud what you want.”

You refuse to give in to him, your voice going silent in defiance. He knew exactly what you were doing.

Hm, okay.

His eyes were low as he watched you—evil. He leaned you upwards, his free hand gripping the blood red panties you wore, tugging them to the side, hearing the squelch of your opening that’s throbbing for his attention.

You then feel the heaviness of his dick slap along your ass, fat tip nudging at your folds, making you swallow. You want to protest. But it’s too late— he’s already dropping you down, skin sticking together from your arousal that pulls along his thighs. He’s deep, pinching your insides uncomfortably, overthrown by a rush of devilishly itching pleasure.

He brought his face closer to yours, lips hovering over his mouth as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, head tilting back as a sharp gasp left your lips, dropping your face back down to his as you whimpered.

“Always so stubborn,” he grunts, your hips fully connected, raising you forward and dropping you down again, dreading the pleasure it brings you. He thrusts himself deeper inside of you, gripping your face as you want to hide the warmth in your cheeks, “Nah. You wanted this," he growls, his voice low and rough.

Another gasp pulls from your lips, wrists tugging beneath his as you whimper in a pleading way, calling for him, “B—Baby…”

“Nah, what happened to Mr. Getou? I’m baby now?” Suguru says within your ear.

Your chest rises hastily as pleasure raptures through your body, wanting to touch him, wanting to dig your fingers through his hair. You needed it.

“Don’t wanna hear all that whining shit,” His free hand reaches between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit as he continues to drill you senseless, “Came over here in this little fuckin’ dress. Bounce on my dick like you love it.”

“Sorry, baby…” you whine, his own strength having full control of you, unable to do anything but release moans from your lips, watching the way your body bounces atop of him—all from his one fist holding your hands.

He lets out a low chuckle as you apologize, enjoying the sound of your moans. He moves his head back, watching the way your body moves up and down in his lap. He could feel his body getting hotter and hotter.

“Yeah, I like the sound of that.” He grunts, his voice thick with lust. He keeps a firm grip on your wrists, watching you squirm against him.

“…Mmm….fuck…” you curse, your head tilting back, hair moving with you, “W—wait, baby…I…wanna touch you…please…”

"Touch me where?" he asks, his voice dripping with amusement. "I'm fuckin’ deep inside you."

He gives your wrists another squeeze, keeping them pinned behind you. He continues to thrust up into you, feeling your pussy tighten around his dick.

"’Getting tight as fuck, baby. Open up. Need you to relax. Let me fuck you. Beg a little harder, too. You can do better,” He demands, his grip on your wrists tightening even more.

“So mean…” you mewl, “‘Know I like touching you…”

You try to gain control, but he’s stronger. He uses one hand to hold you down, dropping you up and down ruthlessly, his other hand readjusting your legs to where your feet are planted on both sides of his legs, evil again in trapping you like this.

“You like when I’m mean. Admit that shit.”

It’s like a dam had broken out into a river, your mouth dropping open as no noise released for a moment. You then brokenly moan, gasping deeply as you begin talking to him, “You’re in control baby. Love it when you’re in control….don’t stop….o—oh my….baby…baby…”

He felt a sense of pride, knowing that he was the one who made you like this. He leans his head forward, his lips just barely touching the side of your jaw.

“So fuckin’ needy,” he says lowly, “Begging and squirming on my lap.” He lets out a low growl. “So desperate.”

He thrusts up into you harder, faster, driving himself deeper inside of you. He can feel your wetness coating his length, the slick sounds of your bodies colliding filling the room.

“Fuck, baby...you're creaming, such a pretty fuckin’ sight,” he groans, his voice thick with desire. He reaches up, grabbing onto your breast roughly, squeezing it in his hands.

“So desperate,” you repeat, “…Need to touch you baby, please. Please. Please.”

He watches as your eyes roll back, a low growl leaving his lips. He lets go of your wrists completely, moving both of his hands down to grip your hips.

“I’m hot, Nurse, I need you to take care of me.” His fingers dig into your skin, needing you to touch him. “Help me.”

This is all you wanted. You wrap your arms around his neck, digging your fingers into his hair as you lean your jaw into his cheek, positioning yourself to pleasure him. Your lips are directly by his ear as you begin to raise up your hips before dropping them down, your moans becoming infinitely louder the second you do so.

"Ooh, shit. That’s fuckin’ good, baby,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire as he roughly spanks you, the sound echoing against the apartment. "Taking care of me so well." He grips your hips tighter, guiding your movements on top of him.

"…Fuck...you're so wet..." he grunts, feeling your pussy clench around him again. He thrusts up into you harder, meeting each of your downward motions. He can’t stop talking to you.

"Oh my fuckin’ god, baby...that feels so good," he groans, his head falling back against the couch.

Your eyes well with pleasurable tears, a soft sob coming from your lips as you bounce on top of him, eyes fluttering back into your head as you messily moan, “Ohhh…my god. Baby…I…agh….baby….”

He listens to your pleas, his breathing heavy and ragged. He can't help but smile, hearing how desperate you are for him.

"You're so fuckin’ sexy, baby," he groans, gripping your hips tightly. "Ride me good, baby. Make yourself squirt all on my dick. Know how good that feels for you,” He thrusts up into you harder, his tip throbbing inside.

He moves one of his hands, gripping the back of your head and bringing your lips to his mouth. He kisses you hungrily, his other hand gripping your hip tightly as he continues to guide you.

You attempt to kiss him back, your mouth relaxed under his, still open as you moan loudly, tears sprayed against your cheeks as you bounce even harder on top of him, skin creating a loud sound. You feel like you could go into shock at the way your eyes roll, your chest heaving as your nails dig into his back.

When your hips raise, you feel yourself beginning to squirt, gasping, walls quelling as you drop back down, “T—Talk to me, baby… need to hear your voice. Love your voice. So fucking…” you whine loudly, “Pretty.”

He feels your tears against his cheek as he kisses you, moans filling his ears and driving him wild. He pulls you up as he runs his fingers against your core, sliding them deep into you as he groans, slamming them in to feel your walls retract, gushing out more as you continue to squirt. Your face is red, unable to breathe properly as he pulls them out to spank you, “Need you to do that shit again. Gonna make you.”

When he kisses your cries into his mouth, he remembers your plea. He reluctantly pulls his lips from yours, his own breath heavy and ragged. “My voice?” he asks, his hand grip tightening in your hair. “You want me to talk, baby?”

You nod your head, tears falling from your eyes in complete euphoria as you whimper deeply, “Yes, baby…” you hiccup, “Yes. Yeahh. Yes.”

“You like how I sound, baby?” he says, his voice deep and gruff. “You like how I talk?” He pulls you head back, exposing your neck. “You like how I moan?”

“Love it,” you groan, swirling your hips around to prove your point, “Love it so. Fucking…” you can barely get out your words, gasping through them, “So much, baby…” back to whimpering, more tears falling.

He can feel himself getting closer, needing you just as much as you needed him.

“I’m gonna need you to take care of me a little more,” he moans in your ear, his lips trailing down to your neck, sucking and biting at the skin. “You know how to take care of me, baby…I need you to.”

Your legs feel like they’re going numb, at this point, you feel like you’re about to black out. The feeling of you slowing down makes him grunt irritatedly.

Just like that, he switches your position swiftly to where you bend along the sofa, Suguru now behind you. He twists your hair in his fist, slamming back inside making you gasp out. You reach behind yourself to where he snatches your hands behind your back.

His thrusts become erratic, his hips slapping against your ass hard enough to leave red prints on your skin. He tightens his hold on your hair, pulling your head back further to expose your neck.

"I'm close, baby," he growls in your ear, nipping at your lobe. "Gonna fill you up so good."

He grinds his length against your folds, teasing you mercilessly before he thrusts back inside, hitting spots that make you squeal. He fucks you hard, his thrusts rough and unyielding.

“You know just how I like it, don’t you baby?” he leans his head forward, his lip right next to your ear. “You’d do anything to please me, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything, baby,” you groan.

The groan hums out into a long moan, your back arching beneath him, feeling as his hand clasps your throat from behind to keep you in place.

He’s relentless, taking a moment to lean down as he tells you, “Haven’t ate my pussy, baby. Need that shit.”

He’s still holding your wrists, leaning down as he locks his mouth around your core, swirling his head in circles, groaning as he dips his tongue in and out of you just to taste how in love you were with him.

His lips pull away from your pussy, a wet pop sounding through the room as he does. He releases your wrists, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly. With a loud growl, he thrusts back inside of you, his dick filling you completely.

"You're mine," he grunts, biting down gently on your shoulder. "Only ever been mine."

He leans himself up to where your body is beneath his, tilting your neck back to where you’re forced to look up at him from behind. His chin lays along your forehead as your mouth is parted open, hips shaking at his rough connection from his hips.

You tremble, “Oh my god, baby. Oh my god….”

Your sounds are almost animalistic as you grunt, panting as it shrills into a deep cry, entire body shaking, hearing as that makes him arrogantly chuckle.

He grips at your hair, his mouth hovering over your ear. “You love it when I make you feel this way, baby?”

Your eyes are closed as you sob, talking through each connection of your hips, twisting your neck around and watching his movements as you quiver out, “Yes, baby…don’t stop. Don’t stop, please…please…pleasee.”

“You want me to keep going, baby?” he groans, “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Cumming…cumming….baby…oh…oh…fuckkk.”

You swallow, gasping as you dig your nails into the sofa. Your entire body falls apart, barely moving as your hips completely halt, trembling as your body explodes in raptures. Your arousal gushes out again—it practically seeps through his thrusts. His hand tightens around your throat as you groan, clutching your eyes shut as you sob out, body shaking as if you’ve been tased.

His thrusts slow down, becoming more sensual rather than rough. He can feel your pussy clench around him, milking him for everything he's worth. Your orgasm triggers his own, he grunts loudly, his cum shooting out in thick spurts as he buries himself deep within you.

You’re both breathing heavily, feeling the intensity of your session. Suguru’s unable to help himself as his palm slams on your ass again, leaving you to only whimper in response, making him chuckle.

“I’m sensitive…” you muffle against the sofa, hiding your warm face as you awkwardly laugh to yourself.

Suguru chuckles darkly, rolling off of you to lay beside you. He reaches over, running a hand through your hair soothingly. "Sorry, baby," he murmurs, kissing your temple. "Didn't mean to hit too hard."

You peak back, “Oh, now you’re all nice to me? Thought you were sick, huh? Lying ass.”

Like clockwork, he’s back to his usual grumpiness. He spanks you again, ducking the swing you give him at that as he says, “Yeah, whatever. Maybe pussy was my medicine. Now come give me that stupid ass mucinex.”

“Fuck you. Do it your damn self.”

“I love you too.”

#getou suguru smut #suguru getou x reader #suguru geto #suguru fluff #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk suguru #suguru geto smut #getou suguru x y/n #jujutsu suguru #suguru geto x black reader #jjk smut #jjk x black reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk

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wileys-russo · 5 months ago

Note

fic idea - in which alexia is a loyal Nike athlete and spots you wearing adidas clothes (sees you in adidas through a picture/social media/in person). Firstly, she has no idea where the hell you got it from and more importantly, she’d rather you wear nothing than wear that rubbish 😉

battle of the brands II a.putellas

"-and then thursday you have no training, but you have to go to madrid?" you questioned, reading through your girlfriends schedule you had up on your phone and the blonde hummed her confirmation.

"for a shoot, just a few hours, we fly." alexia craned her neck forward to check there was no oncoming traffic before continuing through the stop sign.

"they can't do it in barcelona?" you asked with a confused frown making the blonde chuckle as she slowed down, clearly scanning the street for a parking spot to pull into.

"no amor i am not the only athlete, some of them will fly in from england just for the day." alexia clicked her tongue in annoyance, a spot up ahead but someone already indicating they were going to pull into it.

"sometimes i think it would be easier if you knew how to teleport." you shook your head, the blonde incredibly busy even in her downtime though you knew that was her favorite speed, often having to force her to slow down and pause so she didn't burn herself out.

"teleport? qué es teleport?" alexias head turned toward you with confusion making you smile at the way her eyebrows creased, the english word unfamiliar to her.

"like a super power, to go somewhere like that, but just with your mind." you clicked your fingers and alexia nodded slowly, perking up as she saw a free spot not too far ahead.

"i am already a super hero cariño. capitán barcelona!" the blonde flashed you a grin as she flawlessly parallel parked into the spot you'd been a little unsure of her car even fitting in, though of course your concerns were for nothing.

"siempre con chistes!" you pinched her cheek and undid your seat belt as the engine cut off. "español muy bueno mi amor." the footballer smirked as you shot her a dirty look.

"i have lived here for five years alexia!" you huffed, the blondes lips curling upward at how easy it was to get under your skin, the three years you'd been together giving her lots of time to practice.

"espere!" you made a noise of surprise as you pushed open your door and attempted to slide out of the car, pulled back down in your seat as alexia leaned over you to pull the door shut again.

"what, is this?" your girlfriend pawed at the sweatshirt you had on beneath alexias leather jacket, todays weather containing a particularly icy chill and the bistro you were going to for an early dinner was outdoors so you'd bundled up with layers.

"camiseta?" you guessed, unsure if this was her testing your spanish or not as you gave her a strange look. "que? no! this is not mine." alexia huffed, ignoring your attempts to push her hands away as she pinched and pulled at the fabric covering your top half.

"no? it is mine." you made an indignant noise as alexia tried to peel her leather jacket back off of you, gasping dramatically at something as it rolled off your shoulders.

"traidora!" alexia accused, poking sharply at the adidas emblem covering your heart which had previously been covered by her jacket draped comfortably over the top of it.

"what? ale i am hungry." you rolled your eyes, trying to open the door again as once more alexia leaned across you to pull it shut, going as far as to press the child lock button on her side of the car.

"off!" alexia ordered pointing to the sweatshirt, settling back into her own seat now you couldn't go anywhere, with her arms crossed and a grumpy look ingrained into her features.

"alexia-" "off!"

"its cold outside! you told me to dress warm." you reminded her with a raise of your eyebrows. "no adidas. nike! i am a nike athlete mi amor." alexia stared you down stubbornly as you looked right back at her, but this was clearly not something she was joking about.

"you could not even tell when we left home ale, i will zip your jacket up!" you tried to compromise but she shook her head. "off. where did you even get that?" she made a face of disgust that had you rolling your eyes.

"a store! i liked the colour." you shrugged, alexia scoffing in disbelief. "it is blue! i have blue nike." she pouted like a child as again your eyes rolled.

"are you really going to make me take it off? let me be cold? tu propia novia?" you gave her a look as she paused for a moment, clearly thinking things over before perking up, clicking her fingers and holding up a hand silently telling you to wait as she got out of the car.

much to your annoyance she left the child lock on, zooming around to the boot and rummaging around for a second before returning, door opening and closing again.

a snicker left your mouth as a car honked and alexia jolted, hitting her head on the roof and swearing, the stranger clearly having thought alexia was leaving and wanting the car space.

"sigue conduciendo idiota!" the footballer swore, flipping off the driver as they pulled away making you laugh and quickly pull her hand down.

with one last annoyed look out at the other car she turned back and held out to you what was in her other hand, a bundled up mess of grey material.

"for you cari." she wiggled it impatiently as you sighed but took it off of her none the less. "ale this is your old training jacket!" your face scrunched up in realization as you held it up in front of you.

"sí! barça and nike." alexia grinned clearly very proud of herself as you made the mistake of sniffing it and recoiled quickly. "how long has this been in your car? did you wash it?" you accused as she scoffed, tugging on your ear.

"tonta. change!" she waved her hand impatiently as you gave her a look. "really?" "sí. vamos! i am hungry." she waved her hands again as you sighed deeply, recognizing you were also too hungry to spur this argument on much further without anything to sustain you.

grumbling under your breath you shrugged the oversized leather jacket off, twisting awkwardly in the small front seat to tug your sweatshirt off next, dropping it in your lap and pushing your head through alexias alternative.

once you were dressed in all your layers again you heard the child lock click, your girlfriend darting out and around the car to open your door for you before you could, forever chivalrous despite how frustratingly stubborn she could be at times.

"mucho mejor." alexia grinned happily, pulling open your door as you glared up at her from your seat. "this is thin! i am going to be cold." you huffed, trying to stand but once more your girlfriends large hand pushed you back into your seat as she opened the back door.

"perfecta!" suddenly she was back and shoving something down onto your head with a beaming smile, holding a hand out to help you up as you leaned back a little, eyes rolling at the bright pink nike beanie on your head.

"eres ridículo." you muttered, adjusting it to sit better with defeated sigh. "eres preciosa." alexia leaned down with a softer smile, pressing her lips against yours a few times, hands cupping your cheeks making you wince and pull away.

"like icicles!" you pushed them off of you and finally stepped out of the car, closing the door after you. "nope. too cold!" you shook your head as your girlfriend offered her hand for you to take, an offended look on her face at your rejection.

"alexia!" you squealed as she stepped forward and wrapped you in a hug instead, freezing cold hands slipping up your shirt and teasingly rubbing up and down your bare sides.

"dime que me quieres." the midfielder ordered, pulling your body flush against hers as you wriggled and flailed trying to get away from her.

"no!" you laughed, amusement swallowed by her mouth capturing yours, the same order now mumbled against your lips as her cold fingers danced against your once warm skin.

"fine! i love you." you shoved her away at that, struggling to catch your breath as the taller girl smiled cheekily and repeated the same words back.

"vamos, comamos tonta." she leaned down as if to kiss you again though instead tugged the beanie down to cover your face, arm sliding over your shoulders and guiding you away from the car.

"puta!" you pulled it back up and pinched her side, the blonde blowing a raspberry on your cheek before kissing it apologetically as you leaned into her a little.

your fingers entangled with hers, strong arm still protectively draped across your shoulder, the two of you making your way across the square toward the bistro.

"when we get home mi amor i will make a fire." "we do not have a fireplace?" "no te preocupes, i will just burn that adidas camiseta." "alexia!"

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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apple-onigiri · 3 months ago

Text

a distillation of adolescent rage within bonnie

as promised, here's a bit of an analysis of bonnie, specifically of how much their character is defined and fueled by anger, where that anger is coming from, and how much exactly of it is genuine and how much is there just to feel a bit more safe and a bit less confused. because man, bonnie is so well-written, it needs to be talked about more, and this aspect of them is especially handled really well

i also love them deeply, there's that. okay let's go team

to establish the facts: bonnie being angry is really the first thing we learn about them, and what siffrin's first association with them is at the point where we meet the party. it's even in their first memory's description. see? right there.

and i mean, they have a full right to be, don't they? the country is in a crisis. and while they've grown close to the rest of the party, the reason they're traveling with them in the first place is because they had to run away from their town, which they probably don't remember ever leaving beforehand, and leave their sister behind because she got frozen in time.

this is some scary stuff, especially for a kid, whose peace of mind relies on stability and familiarity. any turmoil introduced into even something as small as a daily routine can seriously mess them up, much less a separation from their one trusted guardian and a displacement of such a degree. i shudder to think what their thought process was when they were running from the curse before siffrin spotted them and the party took them in - they must've been so scared. i can't think about that too long or i feel like crying tho let's move on ok

bonnie is obviously mad at the king. they're so angry. well, who wouldn't be? he's the cause of all this. they want vengeance, they want justice, they want to help take him down! and doing only things they're limited to by the adults in the group feels like it's not enough.

this is a bit of a sidenote but this conversation hints at just how anxious bonnie's attachment style is. we know nille ran away with them from home and are given not much detail besides that, if only because bonnie was tiny and doesn't remember much of that, but both the fact that you don't have to remember something for it to shape the way you are and the fact that nille is probably pretty busy keeping both herself and her little sibling alive may be the reasons for bonnie's fear of abandonment and need to be useful

bonnie's entire friendquest stems from them needing to feel like they're contributing more, that's why they ask siffrin to teach them how to fight. and they ask siffrin specifically because they, despite their strained relationship at the moment, hold him in high regard and trust him to say if something is actually off-limits because, in their mind, he doesn't baby them needlessly.

that's rare for a kid, to not be overly coddled.

ok, back on track from the attachment style tangent, rise rise rise where is your rage back on

bonnie is even more mad at the king when they finally are facing him. and he's crying and despairing, and having the gall to act all pathetic. and bonnie can't take that. they have been so brave, keeping it together this entire time, and this guy, the cause of all this despair, dares to act like that? what gives him the right?

kids often default to expressing simpler emotions they can fully process and understand when an unexpected feeling corners them or when their defense system kicks in and deems an emotion too harmful to fully experience; they round up to the closest emotion they can and go with that. bonnie is, of course, angry, but they're also full of fear about everything that's happening that's getting tuned out for their own self-preservation, and they feel a lot of indignation and confusion about this adult that doesn't even have the decency to have his shit together to the same degree bonnie does. bonnie doesn't understand him or why he did what he did, and it feels unfair that they were staying strong and the king can just fall apart like that. but anger is easier, so it all gets rounded to that.

recognizing the layers of bonnie's emotions and how one is caused by another is key to understanding them as a character. but honestly, the king isn't the strongest example we've got to show this, however - siffrin is a better one.

we're introduced to bonnie with them acting distant towards siffrin. only in act 1 are we able to experience what the natural dynamic between those two has been ever since siffrin lost their eye, and it's genuinely a little heartbreaking. it's a lot of siffrin being awkward and jumpy, unsure how to approach bonnie, and bonnie being huffy and disconnected, not really playing into the conversation.

things are tense and neither of them is equipped to diffuse the situation. it's so, so sad because context clues tell us they used to be close - siffrin was the first one to call bonnie "bonbon" but he doesn't do that anymore, bonnie avoids even just eye contact with him, and the way they're acting is clearly something siffrin believes to be a sign of bonnie decidedly not liking them anymore.

(this "being hated" is a surprise tool that will help us later)

while we don't know why things are the way they are at first, we later learn that it's because siffrin doesn't see getting hurt while protecting bonnie as a big deal. and bonnie is upset that he got really, really seriously hurt to the point of losing an eye and he's just waving it off. there's a few things at hand here that go into bonnie's seemingly simple reaction.

the issue here largely comes from siffrin's avoidance of talking about their internal state. because they waved things off, not wanting to talk about it, bonnie didn't have the chance to talk things through either, and process them healthily. the guilt, fear and sadness stemming from someone you care about getting hurt because they kept you safe all go unaddressed.

additionally, there's a cognitive distortion that kids often suffer from where they think everything happening is their fault, even when they were in no way involved in causing it, may play a part here. because their world is just so small, if kids can't pin the blame on something else (since it may be something they're not aware of or too vague), it doesn't compute, so they immediately place the blame on themselves.

there's of course an additional doom spiral of bonnie acting closed off, siffrin taking it as them hating him, and bonnie taking that as siffrin drifting away, and the cycle perpetuating because no one in the party wants to budge into this. everyone is allergic to communication.

the crux of it is, bonnie isn't really angry at siffrin, not in the way they are at the king. it's just easier for their preteen brain to categorize what they're feeling as anger, as a defense mechanism, and point those emotions outwards instead of keeping them inside. it's easier to lash out than regurgitate those feelings and let them eat away at them. so they act out, and scream, and call siffrin stupid.

and we have one than one example of bonnie lashing out with anger because that's the easiest option. it's certainly easier than figuring out what emotions they're exactly feeling and dealing with them without admitting they're a kid that doesn't understand how to do it alone.

among them is of course the way they act when they overhear the others talking about what to do if anyone dies, and the connected rotten adults event. after that safe room, bonnie is remarkably closed off, and if you go to the poem room, they read the book on funerary rites and then pointedly pretend to not do so when asked what they're doing.

it's an incredibly exemplary interaction, i think. because they're surprised, we get an almost step by step for their thought process, and it goes a bit like this:

i didn't mean for you to see me look at this and i want you to not know about it -> stop talking like you know what i was doing because i don't want you to know about it -> i want you to think it's nothing important so that you're not more interested -> i'll tell you i'm okay because that may make you think you don't need to look -> it's not working, so i'm going to tell you directly to stop looking at what i'm doing, or at me, because, again, i don't want you to know i'm in distress -> i'm feeling a lot of things so i need to expel them in some way, "shut up" -> this is isn't working, i need to deflect and give you something else to focus on

this avoidance and giving over the reins to anger instead of processing anything is something bonnie resorts to a lot when overloaded by a lot of different emotions they can't deal with

in bonnie's mind, talking about it is bad because it's distressing, and scary, and makes them think of awful scenarios they don't want to come true, and not talking about it means not feeling all that, and that's surely better. there's also that defense mechanism at work, the externalizing of negative emotions and pointing them outward instead of letting them hurt the inside. and it kicks in on full throttle when siffrin tries to comfort bonnie.

anyone who's been in an adolescent age in their life can recognize this emotion. wanting someone to just go away, leave you alone, stop talking about something or doing something. to bonnie, if you don't talk about something, it's not real, and siffrin comforting them a. anchors the cause of their state in reality, b. confirms they don't have everything together because they needed comforting in the first place. and that's no good! so they act out. it's like a deimatic behavior, a tactic to scare off something that you would otherwise have no choice but to give in to. they're not unlike a cat hissing and puffing up to seem bigger. you know those spicy kitten videos where they just do firecracker noises at a human hand closing in on them? yeah.

and it works!! to an inordinate degree because the object of it was siffrin who a. is extremely prone to believing people hate him, b. entered a time loop because he cares so much about these people and staying with them. told you that surprise tool would come back. in bonnie's defense, people usually don't rewind time when you do that, and just back off until your emotional state is calm enough that you can talk without feeling like imploding.

it's alright, siffrin just needs enough time to assemble their own thoughts before approaching bonnie again. and when he does, we see how to overcome the obstacle of an adolescent attempting to avoid a conversation concerning unpleasant feelings.

siffrin just gives bonnie space to experience those big feelings safely and explains calmly why something happened in the first place. when they try to avoid a conversation, he just gives them time to think about it instead of giving them any sort of pep-talk, and they talk it out calmly, and make a promise to reassure bonnie that they're both gonna keep each other safe. siffrin genuinely does a remarkable joke here. no one does it better than them nothing awful will ever happen. fans of love and friendship don't think too hard about end of act 3

to drive the point home, we get a bit of an awful reprise of bonnie lashing out as a self-defense tactic in act 5 because they're overwhelmed by just how upset siffrin made them by risking getting hurt on purpose just so they could be stronger. they do the same thing as before, resorting to throwing out hurtful words to scare off the source of all those intersecting negative feelings, and, since they can now, run away.

it needs to be understood that bonnie is not a kid pointlessly angry at nothing in particular and everything around them. their anger is in direct response to too many things happening at once and them having trouble processing all of it, and instead resorting to simplifying their emotions into one very primal one, and expelling it outwards in a form of them lashing out. they're going through an already confusing time of changes you're forced to go through during your adolescence - and a national curse-related crisis is not helping. when given the tools and space to process in an environment they feel is safe, they're not nearly as wrathful.

i guess the tl;dr is this - while they have a bit of a fiery personality and some of their rage is fully justified, bonnie for the most part acts out in anger because it feels like it's keeping them safe and allowing them to not bottle in things that are too confusing to them; it's already a scary world out there for a preteen entering the world of more complex emotions, and being far away from your sister and mid-way through a national crisis is making it even worse.

it might be a bit less noticeable because they spend most of the game upset at siffrin, so we don't see a lot of their sweeter side in one-on-one conversations as much, but honestly, they're such a sweet kid. so cute too, they're extremely endearing. it's no wonder the party is hell-bent on protecting them no matter what.

#finally!!! it's outtttt told you i'd do it #in stars and time #isat #isat bonnie #isat siffrin #isat meta #isat analysis #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #in stars and time act 5 spoilers #pondering #siffrin #bonnie

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forever-rogue · 2 months ago

Note

I don't know if this is a silly idea so if it is I apologize!

But could you write something where Tommy and the reader were seeing each other in Austin but with all the commotion they didn't have time to look for each other when they were fleeing so they both moved on thinking the other one was killed, but the reader suddenly ends up in Jackson and they get to reunite

AN | Ahh, this has been in my drafts for so long! Reminder that I am also a Tommy Miller enthusiast. I love this concept and I hope you do too 🥰

Pairing | Tommy Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“How much longer is it until we’re there?” you were whining, and you knew it. But quite honestly, you didn’t care. You were cold, tired, and hungry, and your feet were killing you. Ellie looked at you and snickered softly; she was young and spritely, everything seemed easy for her.

“Not much longer if you’d stop your whining,” Joel turned back to you as you gave him an indignant little huff. You knew he was teasing; the two of you butted heads a lot but there was nothing but affection behind it all, “think you can manage?”

“I guess,” you waved him off and fell into step with Ellie, “you know, this place better be worth it.”

“It will be,” he promised and you wanted to believe him. You hoped he was right…things had been hard the last few months and honestly, you really just wanted a nice long break, “trust me.”

“The last time I trusted you, Joel, I ended up on this crazy journey with you and the kid,” you snorted in amusement as the two of them stared at you in surprise, “and - and - I wouldn’t change it for the world. So calm down and stop glaring daggers at me.”

“You know-” but Joel was quickly cut off by the sound of hooves, shouts, and barks. This definitely wasn’t good.

You exchanged a look with Joel and the two of you surrounded Ellie to make sure she was as hidden as possible. It really was no use because the three of you were as exposed as could be.

Fuck.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

So…many things didn’t turn out as badly as they could have. In fact, it seemed like it really just turned into…the best possible situation.

You’d not only found your way to Jackson, which already just from the outside was a lot to take in, but Joel had managed to find his brother. It was a shock on both ends but, you realized, life had been a lot like that lately.

For the first time in a long time, you even allowed yourself to believe that things might actually work out. Hope. It was an odd thing really.

But it was Joel’s shout that started you out of your little daydream fantasy. You almost slipped off the horse at the sudden shift of him yelling, "Tommy!"

You exchanged a look with Ellie before turning to look in the direction that Joel was currently running to. He'd almost jumped off his horse and was taking off in the direction of another dark haired man. How very curious.

The party came to a stop and the two of you got off your own horses before hesitantly walking over. It appeared that the two brothers had really missed each other.

Joel let go of the younger man and turned to the two of you with a beaming smile, "this is my younger brother, Tommy."

You turned to the raven-haired man, ready to introduce yourself to him when everything seemed to come to a screeching halt. Time stood still as you realized that you too knew Tommy - at least once upon a lifetime ago you had.

He must have realized at the same time as you had because all he could do was silently look at you in awe. You weren't even sure how to really respond - you hadn't seen him in twenty years. Yet here he was, right as rain and the same as ever.

"Tommy?" You asked softly as he nodded, repeating your name just as quietly. Confusion marred Ellie and Joel's faces, unsure of what was going on, "oh my god."

He hesitated for a moment before holding his arms out and pulling into a hug. A sound somewhere between a sob and laugh escaped your lips as you hugged him back with just as excitement.

You had been sure you'd never see him again. You'd made peace with the fact that the love of your life was dead.

And yet…there he was. Alive and well. Your Tommy.

When you reluctantly pulled apart, he cradled your face in his hands, tenderly brushing away the tears that rolled down your cheeks. It still felt so unreal, like a wild day dream.

"Does anyone want to explain what's going on here?" Ellie decided to cut through the tender moment and Joel groaned slightly. He was such a dad sometimes, despite what he insisted.

"Ellie."

"It's okay," you promised, "Tommy and I…we used to…we were dating. Back…you know."

"Before," he finished for you, catching your eye and offering a shy smile, "before everything fell apart."

"Wait…" Joel looked between the two of you, pointing at each of you in turn. He repeated your name and realization dawned on him, "its you? All this time…shit-"

"Language!"

"You've been Tommy's girl?" He was more incredulous than either of you, "how did I never…realize?"

"To be fair, I haven't been anyone's girl in a long time," you stared at your feet, trying not to focus too much on the fact that everyone was staring at you, "and I didn't put two and two together to realize you were his brother. So."

"So," Tommy echoed, rocking back and forth on his heels. Neither of you were quite sure what to say; you never thought you'd been in this position again, "why, ugh, why don't we get you guys settled in? Seems like you might be staying a while."

"Great!" Ellie was able to cut through any of the tension as she stepped between you and Tommy, grabbing hold of his arm. You breathed a small sigh of relief; things had quickly gotten to a point where you didn't know what to even think.

Joel quirked an eyebrow at you but remained silent otherwise. The look was never enough to kill you; damn these Miller brothers. You huffed, "don't say a word, Joel."

He held up his hands in mock surrender as you huffed and followed after Ellie and Tommy.

Well. This day had definitely not gone according to plan.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After that initial afternoon of introductions and reunions, you managed to avoid Tommy for a few days. It wasn't too hard in Jackson; there were way more people than you had initially imagined. It felt so strange, but wonderful, to be somewhere that felt…normal again. Between that and Tommy, it almost seemed like things really were almost like they had been all those years ago.

"Hey there," his soft voice cut through your thoughts as you turned your gaze away from the softly falling snow and onto him. You stiffened for a moment before smiling at him.

"Hey Tommy," you moved over on the bench and brushed off the powdery fluff. He beamed at the silent invitation and sat down next to you, leaving just enough of a gap between your bodies.

"I was wondering if I'd ever see you again," you could hear the teasing lilt in his voice, "I was almost sure you'd been avoiding me."

"I-I wasn't…avoiding you," it was a lie and you both knew it. Tommy laughed, and you realized just how much you loved his laugh. It had always been one of your favorite things.

"You've always been a horrible liar," he gently nudged your knee with his and you couldn't help the shy smile that bubbled up, "I guess time doesn't change everything."

"I guess not," your stomach churned with a plethora of emotions. Everything all at once.

"How'd you end up with my brother?" his cheeks flushed and not just from the cold. It took a moment till you caught on and you almost laughed.

"I'm, ugh, I'm not with Joel," you promised and his shoulders visibly relaxed, "we're just friends. Trust me, I'm not - I'm definitely not - interested in him."

"Oh," you peeked over to see the smile on his face grow, "okay, that's umm, yeah. Good. And you've, ugh, never-"

"No," a shiver ran down your spine as you cut him off. Sure, Joel was handsome but you were definitely not into him, "and no thank you."

"Cool," a silence fell over the two of you, neither awkward or completely still.

"What about you and Maria?" Yeah. You were curious too.

"We…we were together for a while," he confessed and you hated how it made your stomach twist and turn. It wasn't your place to be jealous but…you were feeling particularly green, "but it didn't work out. So we're just friends."

"Well, that's good that you're still friends," and your insides were jumping around happily.

"Mhmm," he hummed in agreement before it grew quiet again. You could practically hear Ellie screaming in your ear to make a move. Lord knows that she was absolutely wanting to see the two of you get tougher again. It would be just like a movie she'd sighed dreamily.

You shifted and angled your body so you were facing him and found that he was watching you intently. You opened and closed your mouth a few times and yet somehow he knew exactly what you were thinking. Tommy leaned in and put his hand on your cheek, hesitating for just a moment to search your eyes for permission before kissing you.

And suddenly it felt like you'd never stopped kissing him. It all felt so familiar and so…right that you thought you'd never want to forget this again. Tommy Miller always kissed you like his life depended on it.

When he pulled away, and for all you knew he could have been kissing for seconds or hours or minutes, you made a small sound of disappointment.

"I know," there was nothing but affectionate teasing behind his voice, "but if I keep kissing you, I might sink and drown, and die. Give a man a second."

"Was it that bad?" Your eyes widened with worry but the man shook his head.

"The opposite," he grinned, "I just needed a moment so I don't get too crazy for you. It's always been hard."

"Oh," alright, that was a way better answer than you'd hoped for, "I've missed that too. Honestly, I've missed you. A lot…but I feel like that's really obvious to say."

"Not a day passed when I didn't think of you," he admitted shyly, "even if it was just for a moment, but you were still there in my mind. Like it was yesterday."

"Well, I'm sure the reality," you pointed at yourself, "is disappointing compared to the memory."

"That's where you're wrong," he scoffed as though you must have been blind, "you're just as beautiful now as the day I met you."

"Tommy-"

"I mean it," he put his hand on top of yours and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I've dreamed about this day so many times. I never thought…that I would actually get the chance to see you again."

"Me neither," you really wanted to wrap yourself up in him, "I'm just afraid you're not going to like this version of me. What if I'm not like you remember?"

"None of us are the same, sweetheart," he insisted softly, "we've all been through so much shit. But deep down we're all the people we once were."

"You think so?" You could feel the tears welling up already, "I mean, I'm just assuming you'd want to even…try again. You know what, forget I said anything - you don't want-"

"I do," he quickly cut off any of your negative thoughts, "I really do. You think I'd give up this second chance with my dream girl?"

"Dream girl?" and oh. The way you were looking at him made him want to melt, "I'm your dream girl?"

"You always have been and always will be," he grew bashful as you looked at him in awe, "and I think we were given this opportunity for a reason. And I know it's scary, but if you're in, I kind of want to try again. Us."

"Are you sure?"

"I've been thinking about it since the moment I saw you," he leaned in and you were so close you could kiss him - and you definitely intended on doing that again, "so I guess it's up to you, sweetheart."

"I'm in," you promised without hesitation, "all in."

"Me too," and then he kissed you again, softly but with so much love, "all in."

#tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x fem!reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller imagine #tommy miller one shot #gabriel luna #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us #x reader

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st4rg8te · 6 months ago

Text

The Villainess' Redemption (P. 1?)

Various! Yanderes X Ex-Villainess! Reader

✦✧✦✧

Synopsis: You were once the villainess from some poorly-written romance novel, and somehow, you’ve ended up taking the place of a girl who shared your name—a girl who died while reading your story.

This world is different. Here, you’re no longer tied to a script or doomed to a villainess’s fate. Can you rewrite your ending, and find a place for yourself in this new reality?

(aka cliche villainess reader gets transported into the modern times and suffers a lot)

✦✧✦✧

The last thing you remember is the swing of the executioner’s blade against your neck—a fitting end for all the terrible crimes you’ve committed.

Or so you thought.

When you wake up, it’s not the fiery pits of hell that greet you, but a room unlike any you’ve ever seen before.

Through blurred vision, you make out walls impossibly smooth and white, gleaming like polished marble. The light above burns unnaturally bright. The air is sharp and clean, carrying a faint, acrid tang that prickles at your nose.

Was this the afterlife?

Thin tubes are attached to your skin, running from your veins into strange machines you can’t begin to understand. A spike of panic grips you, your breath quickening as your mind scrambles for an explanation.

What if you weren't dead? What if they kept you alive to make you suffer more?

Your trembling hands brush over your body, and your face burns when you realize they’ve stripped you of your former clothes. You’re left in plain, white garments—clean, but thin and exposing.

The indignity is almost as much as the confusion, but you swallow it down, determined to unravel the mystery of this waking nightmare.

On the table beside you lies a book, its presence almost unnoticeable in the room. Yet something about it draws your attention, an unspoken pull that makes your hand reach out despite the unease in your gut.

The front is adorned with a vivid illustration: a man and a woman locked in a tender embrace, their faces soft with affection. There’s something hauntingly familiar about their faces, though you can’t immediately place why.

The title, etched in bold, flowing letters, reads: Enchanted by Fate.

You flip the book open, its pristine pages cool and crisp beneath your trembling fingers.

At first, it seems harmless—a typical romance, the kind that young noble ladies often liked to read. But as your eyes skim the text, a dreadful recognition dawns.

The names leap off the page like venomous snakes: his name—your old lover—and her.

Your heart pounds as anger flares, spreading through your chest. You can almost see her face again, the one who orchestrated your downfall, the one who plunged the blade into your back long before the executioner ever did.

Then your fingers freeze.

Your name.

Paragraphs upon paragraphs detailing your life, your crimes, and your eventual execution. The words blur as the memories resurface—the blade, the crowd, the jeers. Your breath hitches, and the sterile air suddenly feels suffocating.

You slam the book shut, the sound echoing unnaturally in the room, and throw it across the floor. It lands with a dull thud, pages spilling open like a gutted beast, taunting you from where it lies.

That book knew everything. It was impossible. Yet it was real.

With your mind still reeling from what you've just read, you fail to notice the woman entering the room.

Then, the sound of her voice cuts through the fog.

“She’s awake!”

You must have been right. This is your own personal hell.

✦✧✦✧

Human beings are resilient.

So, despite the mental blows you've suffered in a single day, you slowly begin to adjust to your strange new existence in the hospital over the following weeks.

There's so much about this world that you don’t understand, and begrudgingly, you admit that it still frightens you. You can’t shake the feeling that this is all some form of witchcraft.

The nurses, though kind, remind you of your old maids, their faces polite but distant as they introduce you to odd contraptions you can't begin to comprehend.

They call it technology, and they show you things like a 'television,' a box that displays moving images as though alive, and a 'toilet' that can swallow waste with a single flush—something that still seems impossible to you.

They find your lack of knowledge a little concerning, but none of them have the courage to say anything about it, chalking it up to a side effect of your memory loss.

It’s humiliating beyond words to be treated like a clueless child. The condescending tones, the endless explanations of things that feel like they should be second nature—it grates on you until the frustration threatens to spill over as tears.

In your past life, you were always the one in control. You were the influential daughter of a noble family—admired and feared by many. Now, all of that feels like a distant memory, a cruel joke played by fate.

You feel lost.

But the worst part—the part you can never quite confront—is the stranger in the mirror. The face staring back is not your own. You're told she shares your name, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

You can't help but avert your eyes every time you see reflections of yourself.

“[Y/N], are you doing okay today?”

The deep, gentle voice pulls you out of your spiraling thoughts. When you look up, a handsome man comes into focus.

It’s Your Doctor ♡.

Initially, he took an interest in you purely out of professional obligation. Your case was unlike anything he’d encountered before. He had treated patients with amnesia in the past, but never one as severe as yours. Especially considering the circumstances of why you were admitted in the first place. You reminded him of a wild animal—eyes darting with mistrust and fear, shrinking away from your surroundings. And yet, against his better judgment, he found himself drawn to you, compelled by the need to unravel the mystery of your mind. While you lacked even the most basic understanding of modern conveniences, certain skills and knowledge seemed to come to you effortlessly. You could converse fluently in multiple languages. You knew the names and precise uses of every piece of cutlery, from fish forks to soup spoons, and could recount their placement in a formal table setting. It was truly strange. He began to set aside his busy work, stealing moments during breaks to visit your room. It became a routine—teaching you; how to use a water dispenser, explaining the functions of a phone, or describing the significance of certain holidays and traditions.. He relished the way your face would light up in awe at the simplest things. The wonder in your eyes made him feel like he was witnessing the world anew, through your gaze. He still chuckles quietly to himself when he remembers your reaction to the television. The way you gasped, wide-eyed and almost frozen, as moving images flickered across the screen—it was unforgettable. “Pft.” The sound escaped him, soft but audible. A nurse passing by stopped in her tracks, stunned. She had worked with the doctor for years and had never seen him laugh—let alone blush. Yet here he was, smirking to himself like a schoolboy with a crush. After that, whispers began to circulate through the halls: that the hospital’s famous bachelor had fallen for someone.

"I'm feeling fine. Thank you for asking, doctor."

"I'm glad to hear that," he replied, his tone warm. "And you don't have to be so formal with me."

He sits down by your bedside, eyes curved upwards in a gentle smile as he begins to speak again.

"You're being discharged this afternoon. You'll be able to go home soon."

"Home?"

Would that mean that you would have to meet the body owner's family?

Throughout your entire stay at the hospital, not once had anyone visited you except the doctor and the nurse who attended to you daily.

A knot of nervousness forms in your stomach at the thought of finally meeting those people. What if they found your behavior too strange? What if they saw through you?

They didn’t know the truth—that their daughter was gone. Replaced by a stranger.

The doctor seems to notice the shift in your demeanor. Without hesitation, he reaches over, his hand warm and steady as it rests over yours. The gentle squeeze pulls you back to reality.

"Don’t worry," he says softly. "If you feel any pain or discomfort, please don’t hesitate to let me know. And I can give you my contact information—you can call or text me if you need help with anything."

"I... I’ve troubled you enough already," your eyes are fixed firmly on the bedspread, unable to meet his intense gaze.

Maybe it is normal in this world for women and men to touch eachother so casually like this.

"Nonsense," He replies with a chuckle. "Helping you is my job, after all ♡."

In the end, you are sent off with a small bag containing all your belongings and a crisp white slip of paper in hand, the string of digits scribbled neatly on it.

He watches you walk away, his gaze never wavering. A part of him wishes you had stayed longer.

He exhales a long, quiet sigh, his lips curving ever so slightly into a smile. You’ll call him soon.

And when you do, he’ll be there, ready to help.

✦✧✦✧

To your surprise, a nurse leads you to what they call a “car” parked in front of the hospital entrance—a carriage without horses. You feel a small flicker of pride in yourself for remembering the term.

It moves faster than any carriage you’ve ever known. And as the scenery blurs by, you can’t help but press your face to the window, eyes wide with wonder. Towering buildings scrape the sky, their glass and steel glinting in the sunlight. The bustling streets are filled with all kinds of people from all walks of life.

The driver eventually steers the car away from the bustling scene, guiding it into a quieter neighborhood. The streets narrow, and the towering skyscrapers give way to smaller, more subdued structures. Finally, the car comes to a halt in front of a large, old building.

"Have a nice day, miss."

"Ah… thank you," you say softly as you step out, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

The car drives off, and then you're finally left alone.

You turn to face the building, its weathered facade staring back at you. Compared to the grand mansion where you spent your entire life, this place feels cramped and shabby, its age evident in the peeling paint and creaking steps. Rows of numbered doors line each floor, stretching upward in a vertical maze.

Navigating the unfamiliar hallways proves to be a challenge, every turn leaving you more disoriented. When you finally find the staircase, you hesitate. The nurse had mentioned “elevators,” those strange boxes that carried people between floors. But the thought of stepping inside one fills you with unease.

Shaking off the idea, you take the stairs instead, the journey upward feeling longer than it should. Your legs ache with every step, and by the time you reach the supposed floor you live on, you’re out of breath.

At last, you find your door. Apartment 303. The brass plaque gleams faintly in the dim hallway light.

"Hello?"

You knock on the door, but only silence greets you. Anxiety begins to coil in your chest, tightening with each passing second. You glance around the empty hallway, hoping for a sign, a clue—anything. But nothing comes.

Your gaze shifts to the pad mounted beside the door. The arrangement of numbers stares back at you. It should be easy, you tell yourself. Just enter the code.

You press the first digit, then the second. It feels right—like you’re doing what you’re supposed to—but when you hit the final key, the pad lights up red and emits a harsh beep.

Locked.

Your heart sinks. You try again. But the result is the same: a flash of red and that sharp, cold beep.

Again.

Each failure making your frustration rise. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as the sudden overwhelming pressure of everything catches up to you.

The tears spill over, warm streaks running down your cheeks as quiet sobs escape your lips. You feel pathetic.

You miss your family.

You hadn’t allowed yourself to think about them until now—not fully. But their faces stay clear in your mind.

You miss your father’s embrace, your mother’s soothing voice, the way your brothers would tease and protect you in equal measure.

But they are gone. All of them, condemned to death because of your stupid actions.

And now, here you are—trapped in this foreign land, surrounded by incomprehensible machines and alien customs. The people here don’t know you, and you’re certain they never could. You’re an imposter in a world that feels as if it’s actively rejecting you.

And for the first time since you woke up in this strange world, you let yourself finally admit the truth.

You don’t belong here.

✦✧✦✧

"Holy shit lady, are you okay?"

The last thing Your Neighbor ♡ had expected after coming home was to find you sitting on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably by your apartment door.

The two of you have exchanged pleasantries a handful of times, maybe a nod or a muttered “hello” in passing. But it had still worried him a little when he hadn’t seen you in months. Hell, he even figured you’d finally had enough of this place and moved out for good.

"Do you… need help?" he asks, stepping closer cautiously.

Your face burns with embarrassment. You quickly wipe at your tear-streaked face with the sleeve of your shirt, sniffling as you try to compose yourself.

"I just… I can’t get the door to open.."

His eyes flickers to the lock and then back to you. "What, the code’s not working?"

You nod, avoiding his gaze. "I… I’ve tried it so many times, but it keeps locking me out," you say, your voice wavering. "Do you know how to open it?"

"Yeah, I can take a look. Just give me the code."

As he steps closer to the keypad, you wipe at your eyes again, trying to salvage what is left of your dignity.

What is wrong with you? Your mother would have been disappointed at you acting like this.

"Hey," he say after a moment, glancing at you over his shoulder. "Don’t sweat it. This lock’s a piece of crap. Happens to me all the time."

"Um... do you know if anyone else lives in this place with me?"

The man tilts his head, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "I don’t think so."

A part of you feels relieved. The idea of facing her family—the family you now supposedly belong to—had been gnawing at you since you left the hospital. At least you don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not.

But at the same time, the thought of living alone makes your stomach twist. You’ve never been on your own before. In your old life, you were always surrounded by people—your parents, the servants, ready to spoil you rotten. You never once thought about what it would be like to have to manage on your own.

This is your punishment.

The irony isn’t lost on you. The gods must have seen how you mocked her—your father’s bastard. You used to laugh at her and make fun of her upbringing. Now you can't help but think that she would have done much better if she was in your situation.

"Thanks." you mutter finally, your voice barely audible.

She wouldn't have cried over some stupid door like this and humiliate herself in front of a random man!

"Anyway, that's how you do it. If you need help with anything else, just knock on my door-"

BAM!

Before he could finish his sentence, you were already gone.

✦✧✦✧

Your Neighbor ♡ thought that would be the last time you two would really talk to eachother.

Every time he saw you in the hallway or from across the parking lot, you’d scurry away like a startled rabbit, avoiding eye contact. He figured you were just shy—or maybe embarrassed about how you’d met. Either way, he didn’t expect to hear from you again.

So, he was surprised when, a week later, there was a knock on his door.

When he opened it, there you stood, cheeks flushed an indignant pink, holding a neatly folded napkin in your hands.

"What’s this?" he asked.

"I made it for you," you said, thrusting it toward him. "It’s a gift for helping me that day."

He unfolded the napkin and blinked in surprise. His name was carefully stitched onto the fabric, surrounded by flower motifs.

"Holy shit. You made this?"

It was the sweetest gift he had ever received.

I-I noticed you seem to… sweat a lot. Whenever I see you. I thought it might help," you added, the words tumbling out in a rush.

It took him a second to register what you’d said, and when he did, he couldn’t help but laugh. "Oh, that’s because I go to the gym a lot. Not because I’m just… sweating everywhere."

Your eyes widened, mortified. "Oh! I didn’t mean—"

He grinned, cutting you off. "Relax, it’s thoughtful. Thanks."

There was an awkward pause before he gestured behind him. "You want to come in?"

That moment marked the beginning of something—he wasn’t quite sure what to call it. Friendship? Maybe. But that night, over tea, you finally opened up and told him about your memory loss.

A protective instinct had sparked in him the day he found you crying outside your apartment, and it only grew stronger as the two of you started spending more time together.

Before long, it became a routine—going back and forth between apartments, sharing meals, and finding small ways to help each other.

You didn’t know how to cook, so he often brought over dinner and started teaching you how to make simple meals. At first, you were hesitant, your pride making you stubborn, but he patiently guided you through every step.

Grocery shopping became another shared activity, with him pointing out what to buy and explaining things you didn’t recognize. Though he did like to tease you whenever you added far too many sweets to the cart.

One day, he had casually mentioned his interest in learning an instrument, and before he could blink, you’d practically leapt at the opportunity to teach him. Your enthusiasm embarrassed him at first, but he couldn’t say no to you.

When you discovered the dusty electronic keyboard he’d tucked away in a storage box, your eyes had lit up like it was treasure. From that moment on, you became his self-appointed music tutor, insisting it was your way of repaying him for everything.

“Why do I feel like you’re only spending time with me for the keyboard?” he jokingly asked after yet another lesson.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m doing this because I want to help you.”

He couldn’t hold back his grin.

The more time he spent with you, the harder he fell. You were blunt and prideful, but also sweet and endearing in a way that caught him off guard. When he told you about his job as a club bodyguard, you had compared him to a knight, which made him burst out laughing.

On his way to the gym, a nosy neighbor had stopped him. “So, are you two dating yet? I remember her asking around about your name once.”

He blinked in surprise before the memory clicked. It must have been when you made that embroidered napkin for him. The image of you nervously going door to door asking around, too shy to talk to him directly, made his chest tighten.

Without thinking, his hand drifted to his pocket, where he still kept the cloth. He was on cloud nine the entire day.

Ah, he’d ask you to be his girlfriend soon. That much he was sure of. If only you weren’t so wary of relationships—and that other man who kept hanging around you. How irritating.

The man claimed to be your doctor, but what kind of doctor visited his patients so often? He wasn’t naive, and he could see the way the guy looked at you, the way he lingered too long in your presence. He knew those signs well enough.

Well, no matter. He’d just have to keep a closer eye on you.

After all, you were his to protect.

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EXTRA:

After slamming the door in the man’s face, you sighed in relief.

Finally, some peace.

Turning to the apartment, you fumbled around for the light switch. When the bright light flickered on, it hit you—and so did the sight in front of you.

"What the hell?!"

The walls were plastered with posters—of him. Your old betrothed. His smug face stared back at you from every direction, alongside her, the woman who ruined your life.

You froze, taking it all in. It wasn’t just posters. There were figurines, framed photos, and even a pillow with his face on it.

It didn’t take long to figure out the awful truth. The girl whose body you’d taken wasn’t just any stranger—she was a die-hard fan of the book you came from.

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A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this wacky gift for New Years. I plan to introduce 2 more love interests if I ever get to writing the second part. They're like color coded. Anyway, this was like massive compared to my other works.

I'm still writing Twisted Affections Pt. 3, but some pieces of smut are probably going to come out before that. Thank you for patience!

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#yandere writing #reader insert #x reader #yandere x you #yandere blog #tw yandere #fem reader #yandere x reader #villainess reader #female reader #male yandere #oc x reader

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