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#so get used to being tired idiot and push through
mywritersmind · 12 hours
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WINNING KISS - LN4
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summary : lando isn’t used to being a human mirror, but when a pretty girls tells him to hunch down and let her fix her lipstick in the reflection of his glasses, he’s more than happy to oblige.
listen up : no warnings!!
word count : 750
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I can practically feel the music through my veins. The lights of the club are flashing and my friends are laughing and swinging shots back.
I won today. Singapore has been fucking amazing honestly. Besides the whole drowning in sweat thing.
“So…” Max Fewtrell claps a hand on my shoulder, “Taking a girl home tonight, winner?” He teases me as I roll my eyes and sip my drink, “What- You too tired?” he fakes a frown. I didn’t really want to go out tonight but decided it’s sort of a one in a lifetime thing.
“Go find your girlfriend, idiot.” I eye him.
He throws up his arms and laughs, “Gladly!” As he walks away I feel a hand on my shoulder, spinning me around. I’m surprised who did it had such force for being so small.
A girl stands in front of me, a pencil in hand and for a second I think she’s going to ask for an autograph, “Bend down a bit!” She tugs on my shirt and I do as I'm told because I'm genuinely so confused and the pretty girl means business.
She takes the sunglasses from my head and pushes them over my eyes, looking directly into them and bringing the pencil to her lips.
The ‘pencil’, I now realize, it’s a makeup product and deposits a dark color to her lips as she uses me as her mirror.
As she’s stood in front of me, my eyes can’t help but analyze her. This club is stuffy and smoky but she’s so close I can see everything she has on.
She’s got messy brown hair, silver jewelry, a mini skirt, a fur jacket, and a white corset top. Something about her feels magnetic. She’s stunning.
My eyes go to her lips which she smacks together before pulling out a proper lipstick, as she runs the makeup over her lips I start to smile a bit. She finishes quickly and doesn’t pauses as she starts to place the makeup back in her back.
I slide the glasses down to hang around my neck, I see the recognition appear on her face, “Shit.” She says confidently, “You’re that guy!”
I laugh a bit, standing up straighter and looking down at her, “Nice to meet you too.”
“Sorry! Everyone’s been talking about you today!” My tongue runs over my teeth, smiling a bit, “Thanks for being my mirror. And- congrats, I guess?”
“Thank you. And no problem, I’d never deprive a pretty girl of her lipstick rights.” This makes her laugh and fuck I want to keep her laughing.
She gets a look in her eye, her arms behind her, and her eyes staring up at me, “Well I appreciate it. Like it?” I look at her lips again and I’m beginning to think this is a trick just to make me want to kiss her.
“I do. It suits you.” Her lips pull into a wide smile and she steps a bit closer. “You know- people are talking about me for a reason.” I say, building myself up a bit.
She squints, “Right… A win?” I nod, “You’re celebrating then?”
I nod again, “A bit boring though… if only there was a girl to make my night better.”
She scoffs, “Suppose you want a winning kiss then?” I eye her, sipping my drink once more. My eyes flick to her lips but she doesn’t stop looking at me.
“I mean- your lipstick would look great on me.” I say smugly as she stops herself from smiling, humming and nodding.
“Would it?” She says into my ear, the club getting louder with the music.
“Suppose we’ll have to check and see.” I say in her ear this time and when I pull back, I can tell she’s trying to figure me out.
She hums again, leaning in close and slipping her hand onto my neck. Her cool rings practically sting my hot skin. She turns my head slightly, I feel her stand taller to softly kiss my cheek.
When she pulls away, I’m smirking again, “Let me get your number.” I don’t even ask it as a question.
She pulls the lipliner out of her bag once more, uncapping it with her teeth and taking my arm. She scrolls the numbers slowly against my arm, holding me close.
When she’s done and there’s red numbers up my arm, she closes the product and smiles kindly, saying “Congratulations, winner.” before walking away.
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17020 · 3 days
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TU CORAZÓN ES MÍO — ORQUÍDEAS X WINBRE.
There is absolutely no one like him. All you hear is that young love is nothing more than miserable. With him, though, it's the complete opposite. He is your present and future, going through thick and thin together. Your heart is his, and his heart is yours.
STARRING . . . Ren Kaji, Jo Togame, Toma Hiragi. fem! reader
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DICEN QUE EL AMOR EN SU JUVENTUD
SOLO TERMINA EN DOLOR... featuring REN KAJI
Ren Kaji was tired of hearing the same bullshit that came from every old fart's mouth. That young love isn't meant to last, not one bit. Every second spent together will eventually crumble, and it's best to go your separate ways before life itself sets you apart. Right?
Hell fucking no. Ren Kaji was sure that they must have had shitty, unhappy lives, because there was no way he could imagine life without you.
Sure, things were not always a bed of roses. Kaji knew that he wasn't exactly the best type of person to deal with, so he knew that it could take a bit for him to get used to things. And truth be told, he was glad you were patient.
Relationships weren't his strong suit—hell, you were his first one. His inexperience and his temper made it a wild ride, but you were willing to welcome him with open, loving arms. Your embrace made him forget about everything else: no person, comment, or action could come between the two of you. You were inseparable.
His first date, first kiss, first time, you were present in all. The more Kaji spent his days with you, the more he realized how many idiots he had heard say that this wouldn't last. He was determined to prove them wrong.
And he knew that he was being hasty, the way the velvety box slipped from his fingers many times was enough for the world to know that for the first time, Ren Kaji was anxious.
Fresh out of high school, he bolted through the busy streets. His destination? Your home.
Because after a nasty fight, he knew he had to make things right. He couldn't afford to lose you—not now, not ever.
When you heard a knock on your door, what you saw left you speechless. Your boyfriend was absolutely disheveled, with his hair all over his face, his eyes brimming with tears, and an open velvety box in his hand, revealing a thin band with your birthstone.
"I don't give one shit that we're young, but I want you to know that my heart is yours. This ring's all I have for now. Yn, marry me."
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WHAT DO THEY KNOW?
THEY'RE MISERABLE, BROKEN, AND ALONE... featuring JO TOGAME
It had to be kept a secret. For both your sakes.
Because if the townspeople were to know that Bofurin's most beloved princess was involved with Shishitoren's second in command, frankly, a war was to take place.
It wasn't as if Togame was a complete asshole, but first impressions were always of upmost importance. And Jo Togame had screwed up by being a douche to Bofurin and falling for someone in enemy territory.
He was running out of excuses.
From having to run errands, being too tired and having to head home early, or even having to go to the bathroom and mysteriously spend hours looking for one, Togame always had a little lie up his sleeve in order to sneak out. It got difficult with time as Choji offered to accompany him in his errands, and Sako questioned him on why his lips were swollen, a red tint smeared across them.
"So, who's the lucky gal?"
"Dunno what you're talking about, I drank beet juice, that's all."
"Does beet juice leave your hair messy and give you hives on your neck?"
Togame chuckled as he raised his hands to his head, patting down his hair in an attempt to fix it. "Don't push it. I'll bring her over when I'm ready."
Sako stared at Togame with wide eyes, seemingly unable to process that he had indeed accurately guessed Togame's secret activities. "It's that serious?" he asked, with his raven haired friend humming in return.
"Best thing to ever happen to me. Keep it on the low, will ya? Don't want this spilling out."
Togame’s secret was well kept until a few weeks later, when he found himself inside a popular restaurant which was the borderline between Bofurin and Shishitoren territory.
And technically, he tried his best to be discreet. The restaurant’s popularity had skyrocketed overnight, which essentially meant he was to be more wary. A cap was on his head, with some dark aviator shades covering his eyes. All that hard work for nothing, as his infamous jacket was still draped over his shoulders.
The ‘disguise’ was worth it, though, as a smile grew on your face from how ridiculous he looked. It was a sign that Jo Togame was willing to go above and beyond in order to make you happy, and you were sure to keep that in mind.
“Jo, aren’t those your friends?”
The look on his face was indescribable. He whooshed his hand in the air in an attempt to call a waiter and ask for a check, and ended up drawing more attention to him.
And there they were, Choji Tomiyama and Kota Sako, making a beeline towards his table, wide eyes and shit eating grins plastered on their faces. Choji was the first to speak up, his hand patting the cap on his friend’s head. “What’s with the look, Kame-chan?”
"Is this the girl you told us about? Wait—isn't she—"
"She is" he sighed, "which is why I wanted things to be lowkey."
Sako looked distressed, his hands stuffed inside his pockets. "Do you know what'll be of us if Bofurin was to find out about this?"
Togame simply smiled in return, intertwining his fingers with yours.
"If Bofurin finds out and has a problem, it means they're miserable, broken, and alone. I love Yn, and I'd to through hell and five steps beyond for her."
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A ESTAS CALLES NO VOY A REGRESAR PA NADA
TENGO ALGUIEN QUE ME AMA... featuring TOMA HIRAGI
No matter how many men you met and dated, you never seemed to find yourself comfortable with them. From them being too little or too much, you thought you'd never find the perfect match.
And your best friend Toma Hiragi had the pleasure to hear all about it.
"I mean, the date was horrible!" you exclaimed, running your fingers through your hair. "He spent the whole date on his phone talking to his friends, and when it was time to pay, he expected me to do so! I got so angry I stood up and left him on the spot. Even the waitress supported me!"
Toma sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "And ya went on this blind date because...?"
"Because I want someone who can treat me right, Toma, and so far I've found nothing but assholes."
He loved the way his name rolled so smoothly off your tongue. You were his closest friend, the one he went to for everything. Hearing about your love life mishaps was enough for him to stuff his whole stomach with pills.
"Oh, for fuck's sake..."
"What?"
"Ya know what? Friday. 7pm. Dress nice."
"Why—what for?" you asked, to which Hiragi just facepalmed. "You complain so damn much about assholes, figured I'll just take ya to dinner instead. So, dress nice, and don't make me wait."
As soon as you heard those words, you knew your life was about to change. Because Hiragi doesn't do things for anybody, so for him to ask you to dinner was huge.
It wasn't a one time thing. Each week, you found yourself in various food places and arcades with Hiragi, with his excuse being that 'this was a way for you to shut your trap.' And it worked?
There were no more blind dates, or random hookups. Just Hiragi taking up more and more of your time every day. You couldn't lie to yourself, it felt like heaven.
"Toma, why do you keep taking me places? I don't want you to do it if it's out of pity, y'know. Save your cash."
He shook his head in response, "Save it? I've been waitin' for this since forever ago, ya think I'm gonna waste my chance?"
"What do you mean?"
"My heart's always belonged to ya, stupid. It's about damn time ya know."
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taglist (open, yippee!): @stunie @kaiser1ns @nyxypoo @karasuglazer @littleplantfreak @maruflix @heartkaji
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bugdogg · 10 months
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im teetering on the edge of something or another, feels like a breakdown but its more so falling back on old unhealthy habits that feel comforting to do but ultimately don't help me in the long run
anyway im coping somehow by comparing myself to dogs and going "haha im young, i got a ways to go before my evil villain arc"
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no-144444 · 25 days
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my girl- (o.piastri no.81)
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summary: fans made an edit of oscar and you being in love since your prema days.
pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader (no.28)
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Oscar Piastri being in love with Y/n Y/l/n for 15 minutes straight, and vice versa  (F2 -> F1)
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Clip 1: Prema video 
Bahrain Airport, F2 season beginning, March. 
“And here we have the 3 year reigning champion of the Indycar Junior series, making her F2 pivot, Y/n Y/l/n!” Rob cheered as he woke you from your nap on the plane. 
“Shut up,” you groaned, pushing the camera away with a chuckle. “I'm tired, leave me be.”
“The plane is landing, idiot!”
“Hush!” you laughed. “That means ages until we get off, get your camera away Rob!”
Rob and you had gotten the same flight from London, and you’d become fast friends. He was eccentric and overtop, but a good laugh. You were sure you looked crazy. 6 hour flights do that to a person. You and Rob chatted to the camera about the weekend, and you introduced yourself to the Prema fans. Not many people gave a shit about Indycar, and even less cared about Indycar junior. 
As you disembarked the plane and got through security, people stopped you and Rob for photos and whatnot, then you finally got out of the airport. Angelina was standing there with a camera and a big ‘welcome’ sign, and another two very tired teenage boys beside her. 
“Y/n!” she cheered, pulling you both into a hug. “Rob!” 
Little did you know, Rob’s camera was pointed at Oscar, who turned to Fred with a shocked expression and whispered: “She’s gorgeous.” 
Beside him, Fred chuckled. “Go for her.”
“No way I have any chance with her, I-”
“I can hear you, y’know?” you cut in, coming over to introduce yourself. 
He went redder than a tomato, and you all just laughed. 
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Clip 2: Sky Sports channel
Bahrain International Circuit, 27th of March 
“And it’s No. 28 who sees the chequered flag first, the rookie, and the only girl on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n! Pole position in her first race!” 
“That’s P1 Y/n, congratulations,” your race engineer, Pedro, beamed as you crossed the finish line. 
“Motherfuck Guanyu is fast mate, we need to watch out for him- oh, and the other Alpine boy that was trying to flirt with me, what’s his name?” you answered. The Prema garage was full of laughter as you outed Oscar. 
“Oscar Piastri? No.2,” Pedro chuckled. “He failed to flirt with you?”
“Well, bless him, he tried to,” you chuckled as you parked the car. “He’s cute though.”
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“That’s P6 Oscar, and just to let you know, Y/n Y/l/n has outed you on the radio and on live television saying that you tried and failed to flirt with her,” his race engineer said. 
Oscar laughed, finding the situation funny. “My mum’s going to tweet about that.”
“She also called you ‘cute’, if that helps with any bruised ego?”
Oscar’s face lit up under his helmet. “It definitely does,” he chuckled. “Thanks mate.”
“I’d wingman you any time,” he chuckled. 
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Clip 3: Prema video
Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy, April.
“Hello everyone,” Robert smiled at the camera. “Today we will be going for a drive, I’d better call Oscar in.”
Oscar sat in the passenger seat and did his belt as they caught up and told the viewers what they’d be watching. 
“So, today, you will be joining us for a drive around the Italian countryside,” Rob smiled. “And we will be answering your questions.”
“Let the questions begin,” Oscar added. He pulled one out of the bowl and read it aloud. “Who’s your favourite Prema team member?”
Rob smiled. “That’s hard, I love the whole Prema team so much, but… yeah, that’s hard. Maybe my race engineer, Fred? I get along quite well with him,” Rob giggled as Oscar nodded.
“What?” Oscar laughed.
“I know your favourite,” Rob smirked. 
Oscar looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Who?”
“La tua ragazza,” Rob chuckled as Oscar rolled his eyes. “What? It is true! You love her!” (La tua ragazza = your girl in Italian)
“I’ve met her once, mate!” Oscar laughed. 
“So you don’t like her? I can ask her out?” Rob deadpanned. 
“Well, no, you can't-” Oscar was cut off by Rob’s laughter and he decided to stop trying to fight him about it. Everyone on the team knew that Oscar Piastri was infatuated with you. 
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Clip 4: Georgie O’Hara’s deleted youtube video. 
Haileybury and Imperial Service College, England. 
“Ok, that’s an awful idea!” Oscar yelled over his friends. “They already know you’re the ones doing it!”
“It’s fine! It’ll be fine!” Elijah, a good friend of his, smiled. They wanted to set off the fire alarms again, for the third time that week. Deodorant and stupid teenage boys did not mix, especially when they refused to put it on themselves and waste it on fire drills instead. 
Georgie turned to his phone, addressing the viewers "Oscar's a goody-two-shoes, if you couldn't tell."
Suddenly his phone rang from an unknown number, and before he could leave it ring, Anthony (another friend of his) answered. “Oscar Piastri, incoming F2 champion’s phone, how may I help you?”
Oscar laughed, but suddenly stopped when he heard you. 
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” you chuckled at his friend. “Anyways, can you just ask him to ask Elijah not to do the fire alarm thing between 11pm and 2am? The girls in my room and I are sneaking downstairs to watch a film and we don’t really want to get caught.”
Oscar covered his face and groaned, then took the phone off Georgie. “Hey-hi, Y/n. Yes, of course, we won’t do the fire alarm thing, ever again. Sorry.”
He turned his back as his friends made kissing noises and certain gestures at him. 
“All good, thanks Osc,” you smiled. “You and your friends are welcome to join us if you want.”
Oscar could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating. “I’ll ask them,” he smiled. He turned to his friends. “Y/n’s inviting us all to a movie, we’re sneaking out tonight,” he informed them. 
“I don’t want to-” Anthony started, but Georgie silenced him with a kick to the shin. 
“Mate, this is Oscar’s one fucking chance with his girl, shut up,” He scoffed.
“Is that a yes?” You asked over the phone.
“Yes!” they all answered. 
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As the night went on, you found yourself getting more and more tired. Oscar was beside you and you could tell how he was trying to play it cool, but failing miserably. You could practically see the way his heart leapt out of his chest when you held his hand. As ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ ended, you squeezed his hand before getting up and letting go. 
“Alright, I’ll clean up, everyone else go back upstairs before you get caught,” you whispered. The ‘movie room’ as the students called it (it was technically the staff room but no one really cared) was a mess. Blankets, cups, wrappers and pillows were everywhere. The group slowly shuffled out as you were left with only Oscar. Georgie had forgotten about his camera and it was still recording where he’d put it down to get some shots of everyone watching the film. 
“I can help,” Oscar whispered. 
You shook your head. “Seriously, you go ahead. They already hate me at this school anyways,” you chuckled. 
“Please let me help?” he asked again. You couldn’t exactly say ‘no’ to his puppy dog eyes, could you?
“Fine,” you smiled. 
You two chatted quietly as you cleaned up the room, and finally met at the door to leave. 
“I really enjoyed tonight-” You started, but you were cut off by Oscar kissing you. His arms wrapped around your waist and your arms wrapped around his neck once the initial shock wore off. You both pulled away after a few seconds. You stared up at him as his usually-blank face turned to one of panic.
“Sorry if that was forward, or-or weird- or-” He started, but now it was your turn to cut him off with a kiss. 
He pulled back smiling, and he didn’t move his hands, or try to move away from you. There was a moment of silence. “Can I take you on a date?”
You chuckled. “Yes.”
Oscar was elated. 
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Clip 5: Sky sports channel and Prema footage
Circuit de Monaco, Monaco, Monaco, May 22nd. 
You were excited as you stepped onto the podium, victorious. It had been a difficult few laps at the end, Guanyu overtaking, then you overtaking, and over and over, but you got the chequered flag first. You were breaking records, breaking barriers as a woman in motorsports. You’d won Monaco, your first time racing there. In the Sprint, and the feature race. You were on top of the world. As you raised your trophy, the crowd cheered and Oscar was cheering the loudest. 
You looked to your left, him standing on the podium for the first time this season, and you smiled. 
“Feels good, huh?” you smirked. 
“Feels great, but I’ll be coming for your step next,” he smirked.
“You wish Piastri,” you scoffed, then uncorked your champagne bottle and sprayed it on him and Zhou.
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Clip 6: Sky Sports channel, Prema footage
 Autodromo Nazionale di Monza, Monza, 17th of July, Sprint Race. 
“And it’s Y/n Y/l/n into the wall in a bad collision with Liam Lawson, only 2 laps till the end!” 
Everything was in slow motion, one second you were in control, the next you were flipping into the wall. 
“Red flag, red flag Oscar, huge crash in sector 3, come in, come in,” his race engineer said. 
“Who was it?” He asked, slowing his pace. 
“Y/l/n and Lawson, straight into the wall.”
“Is she ok? Is she out of the car?” he asked calmly. 
“Not yet,” he answered grimly. The Prema garage was eerily silent as they watched the stewards struggle to get you out of the car. 
As he came up on sector 3, he saw you. The car was upside down leaning against the barrier, they were putting out the fire. Shit. Shit. Shit.
You and Oscar had been dating for a few months now, and he really liked you. He passed by in horror as he saw that you weren’t out of the car yet. He was getting more and more nervous as the moments went on. He caught sight of Liam. He was out of the car. He beckoned Oscar over and he obliged, letting him hitch a ride back to the pitlane with him as he drove slowly. As they got back to the pitlane, they both jumped out as the race was finally deemed as cancelled, and the boys walked off, waiting for news. 
“What happened?” he asked. 
“It was a total mistake, my car had mad fucking oversteer and I just hit the throttle too hard, and then she was in the wall,” he answered. “She’s not even out yet.”
“She’ll be ok,” Oscar said, trying to convince himself as well as Liam. “She’s strong.”
Liam nodded, and went off to the RedBull garage with his head held low. Oscar walked into the Prema garage and his mom immediately pulled him in for a hug. Beside her was your parents, looking terrified. 
“You’re ok, thank god,” she whispered. She didn’t care about the multiple cameras pointing at them, her son was alright. 
“Is there any news yet?”
“They’ve pulled her out of the car,” your dad answered, eyes glued to the screen. 
“Is she responsive?” Nicole asked. 
“Yes!” You race engineer answered, happy that you were alive. There was a collective sigh of relief throughout the garage. “Complaining about lower back and leg pain, as well as a definite broken arm. She won’t be racing for a while,” he added, his tone becoming more and more sombre. Oscar watched as your mother broke down in your father’s arms, and he felt like throwing up. You wouldn’t be racing, you wouldn’t get to do the thing you loved. 
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Clip 6: Prema video
ASST Brianza - Vimercate Hospital, 18th of July.
You woke up in blinding pain a few hours earlier. Everyone had worked so hard to make everything ok, to make you comfortable, but all night all you did was sob. The pain was unbearable in the car, you thought you were going to die, you thought you weren’t getting out of the car. 5 fractured vertebrae, 3 broken ribs, a fractured hip bone, and a broken arm apparently wasn’t a joke. No racing for the rest of the year. Your life was over. 
“Fuck,” you whispered as you sat up and pain shot up your back. 
“Hey,” Oscar’s soft voice brought you out of your upset, and back into the room. He took your hand. You felt bad, he’d been there the entire time, and honestly, he should probably be at the track already, ahead of today’s race. You’d tried to shoo him but he wasn’t having it, much more in favour of being with you and cluing you in on how your parents reacted to him being your boyfriend. Awkward. “Take your time.”
You nodded, grateful that he was there, then turned your attention to the camera Angelina had brought with her and set up to take a ‘statement’ video. “Hi Prema fans, and my fans. Yesterday was pretty rough, and with a heavy heart I have to tell you that I won’t be able to continue this season in F2. My back was badly damaged yesterday in my collision with Liam, which was a complete accident and not anyone's fault, and I definitely don’t blame Liam. I love racing, and I’ll still be at the majority of the races to support my teammates, and my boyfriend. This is just a very unfortunate event that pulls me out of the game for a while, but I’ll be back. I hope you miss me on track, and just know that I’m alright. Thank you for the support, bye for now, Prema family.”
Oscar wrapped his arms around you and smiled. “I’m the boyfriend,” he added, making you laugh. 
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Clip 7: Prema footage
Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, 4th of December
“And Oscar Piastri sees the chequered flag first! Winning a sprint race and the feature race this weekend!” 
You jumped up and down beside Chris, his father, as he came into the pitlane. He was the lead of the championship. He was going to win F2. No doubt about it. 
The past 5 months had been difficult. You’d been back at school for a while, only now cleared to travel again, but you were happy to be back at the tracks. It felt good to watch Oscar win in person. 
Chris wrapped his arms around you as you both celebrated. Oscar’s radio came on. 
“God guys, good drive. Looks like Y/n is my lucky charm,” he laughed over the radio. The last races hadn’t gone so well for him, but he was straight back to winning with you here.  
You were smiling the whole way to the barricade, but that ended when about 50 people were against your back, pushing violently. Chris and Mark were trying desperately to get them to back off, but they couldn’t stop them. You promised them you’d be ok, but the pain was getting unbearable, and Oscar hadn’t come over yet. 
“Guys, move back!” He shouted as he ran over, just finished taking off his helmet. “Make some space!” The team obliged, but he still decided to be dramatic and lift you over the barrier. “You alright?” he asked, but you just wrapped your arms around him.
“You’re incredible Osc,” you smiled. “I love you so much.”
And there it was, out in the open for the first time. Too bad you forgot you both had microphones on. 
He smiled wider than you ever thought possible for his face. “I love you too. So much baby,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You should be up here with me,” he added and you nodded, it still being a sore subject. “And you will be. Next year.”
You nodded, grateful for the hope and support he offered you. “Go! Go to your team!” you laughed, pushing him on. Before he let you out of his grasp, he grabbed your waist and stole a sweet, quick kiss. 
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Clip 8: Prema footage
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 12th of December 
He’d done it. He was the F2 champion. Sadly next year he would only get to be the Alpine F1 reserve driver, which meant no consistent racing, but that was still incredible. 
You waited by the barricade as he came in, and he went straight over to you. He pulled his helmet off, then his bandana, and pulled you in for a kiss. The rest of the team ‘ohh’ed and ‘aww’ed but neither of you cared at all. He’d won. 
“Congratulations F2 winner,” you smirked, pulling away. 
“Thanks baby,” he smiled. 
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Post-race interview
“So, how does this feel, Oscar?” she asked. 
“It feels amazing, y’know, we’ve all worked so hard at this for the whole year and it’s just really special to have everyone here, especially my girlfriend Y/n. I’m missing her on track, so it’s good to still at least have her in the paddock,” he smiled, and the camera cut to you, beaming up at him.
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Clip 9: Prema footage and Sky Sports channel 
Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 19th of March, Sprint 1. 
“We’re in the Prema garage,” Oscar explained to the camera in front of him. He was in full Alpine gear, being a reserve driver meant being a marketing machine, but this wasn’t for Alpine, this was for you. “And my girlfriend is about to go and do her first race back since the accident last season. Let’s go interview her about it!” He walked through the garage, searching for you, and finally found you. “Y/n! Any time for an interview?”
You turned to him and smiled. “I always have time for you,” you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close. His grip on you was tight but you didn’t mind. You pulled away and turned to the camera.
“So, how does it feel to be back?” He asked.
“Amazing. I thought my life was over when I was told I wasn’t allowed to race for half a year.”
“And who helped nurse you back to health?” He smirked, batting his eyelashes at you. 
“Your mom mostly,” you chuckled. You’d spent the entire off-season in Australia with Oscar and his family, and Nicole had been so considerate and careful about your healing injuries. 
Oscar rolled his eyes. “Yeah… that’s probably true,” he chuckled. “How do you feel being on Pole?”
“It feels good. We just have to stay quick this season. I didn’t rush my healing just to lose,” you smiled then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve to get in the car now, love you,” you smiled. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed his lips to yours with a ‘good luck’, then let you go. 
---------------------
“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n is coming in with a bang! A Sprint Pole and a Sprint win! That is a statement, ‘I never left’!” 
“That’s P1 Y/n, well done!” Pedro called over the radio as the Prema garage went crazy. 
“Thanks for everything guys, great car, great drive-”
“Great driver,” he added. 
You pulled into the pitlane and got out of the car, celebrating as they got the photo of you on the car. You ran over to Oscar at the barricade as you pulled off your helmet and balaclava.
“That’s my girl!” he cheered as you pulled him in for a hug. “See? Nothing's changed.”
You pressed your lips to his. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he smiled and pressed his lips to your cheek. “I’m loving this WAG lifestyle,” he chuckled. 
You laughed. “It suits you.”
He chuckled. “Alright, you’re being called for the interview. Love you,” he smiled as you walked off, giving your hand a squeeze. You blew him a kiss back. 
---------------------
Clip 10: Prema video 
Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy. 
You were laughing with Logan, doing a ‘Who knows who best’ challenge and both of you were failing miserably. 
You put the headphones on and the music started, making it impossible to hear him. You watched as the room erupted in laughter, then Logan nudged you to take the headphones off. 
“What is the most annoying thing about you?” He asked, holding back giggles. 
“I know what you’d say,” you chuckled. “Me and Oscar.”
The room erupted in laughter as he nodded. “Exactly!” 
“You’re just jealous,” you chuckled. 
“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a girlfriend?”
“No, because I have Oscar and you don’t,” you shot back, and everyone started laughing again. 
---------------------
Clip 11: Sky Sports Channel
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 20th of November 
“And after a season of domination from the woman in red, Y/n  Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first with a staggering 425 points! This F2 season will go down in history!”
You’d done it. You’d done it. You were an F2 champion, and next season you’d be in an F1 car fulltime, racing alongside Oscar, Logan, and Nick. You’d made it. 
You jumped out of the car, amazed at your season. It’d been win after win, fastest lap after fastest lap, pole position after pole position. You’d worked so hard. 
“You did it baby!” Oscar shouted as you ran over. You jumped into his arms, and let him hold you up. He looked at you like you held the sky up, like you were the greatest thing on the planet. “You’re incredible.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled. “ I love you so much.”
“I love you so much more,” he pressed kisses to any inch of skin he could, more than proud to be yours. 
You chuckled as he tickled you with his kisses, before you realised that you needed to go fulfil your duties. He put you down, but before you could leave, he grabbed your waist again. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Osc.”
---------------------
Clip 12: Sky Sports channel, McLaren footage, and RedBull footage
Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 2023. 
“A disappointing result for Oscar Piastri, but an incredible run for Y/n Y/l/n, P1 in her first race! I’m sure he’ll be pleased with that for his long-time girlfriend!” 
 Oscar was pissed off, but his mood was lifted by your result. You were incredible. He cheered in his own garage, happy for your win. You’d won your first race. Who else did that? The first woman to ever do so. 
He was in awe of you. 
He exited his garage, ready to see you after your win. He saw you getting out of the car and running straight into the arms of your team and he smiled. He finally caught your eye after some time, and you ran over, wrapping your arms around him. 
“I’m so sorry,” were the first words out of your mouth. “If I could trade our cars, I would Osc, I really would,” you sighed.
“Don’t even joke about that. Don’t make your first win about me. This is about you, my brilliant, incredible, winner,” he pressed his lips to yours in a short, victory kiss. “I love you, yeah?” “I love you too,” you smiled. 
“You were amazing out there,” he smiled. 
---------------------
Clip 13: McLaren video 
Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia 
“Who is your teammate's favourite person?” Lando asked, then looked at the camera and rolled his eyes. “Oscar’s is Y/n because he’s a traitor.”
Oscar burst into laughter and looked at Lando. “That’s not fair! We started dating as teammates!”
“Oh sure Osc!” Lando sighed, playing up the drama. “That’s what they all say.”
“But it’s the truth!”
“Anyways, moving on from Oscar and his traitor girlfriend, who’s my favourite person Oscar?” 
“Max Fewtrell?” 
Lando thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Him or my parents or siblings.”
Oscar took another question out of the bowl and chuckled. “What’s the other person’s red flag?”
Little did he know, you’d come in to visit him and were actively sneaking up behind him. 
“Yours is your refusal to ever use a hairbrush,” you answered for Lando, and Oscar jumped, making everyone laugh, especially Lando, who fell off his chair. You chuckled and wrapped your arms around Oscar's neck from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Came to say hi,” you smiled, kissing his cheek. 
“Came to air out my business online?” He questioned, laughing. He took your hands and led you around his chair, sitting you on his lap. “When did you get in?” he asked, resting his head on your shoulder as Lando tried to compose himself. 
“Just now, came straight from the airport,” you nodded, leaning back against him. 
“Bad flight?”
“Nah, I was on Max’s jet. He’s offered me to ask you two if you want to go back to Monaco after this weekend with him. I am,” you answered. He nodded, gently playing with your hands as he listened to you. 
“Sounds good to me,” he smiled. “Tell him ‘thanks’, yeah?” 
You nodded. “‘Course,” you got up to leave but he pulled you down by the arm and pressed your lips together quickly, then let you go. “Love you,” you called after yourself. 
“Love you too,” he called back, ready to get back to the interview. 
“Can we keep that in?” Ellie, their marketing manager asked. 
He shrugged. “Sure, why not.”
---------------------
Clip 14: Hattie Piastri’s tiktok vlog
Piastri residence, Melbourne, 2023 
“Y/n’s over there with Oscar, and Addie is with May and mum and dad are with Tim over there,” she explained to the camera pointing everything out. In the video you and Oscar were laying on the grass in the setting sun, utterly exhausted from your weekend of racing where you’d gotten p2 and Oscar had gotten p8. His arms were wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, smiling. 
---------------------
Clip 15: Sky Sports channel, RedBull footage and Nicole Piastri’s instagram
Circuit Zandvoort, Zandvoort, Holland
“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n beats teammate Max Verstappen to first place, and she sees the chequered flag first! What an incredible season this has been for the rookie!”
As you crossed the finish line, you almost felt sick. You’d beaten Max, giving you a lead in the Driver’s Championship. He’d been 10 points ahead. Now, you were 15 points ahead of him. 
“That’s P1, P1 Y/n congratulations,” Pedro smiled. 
“Thanks Pedro, and thanks everyone, really well done. Car is perfect, thank you all so much!” 
“And Oscar’s P9, if you're wondering.”
“When I get my fucking hands on Zak Brown I will rip his fake fucking toupée off for giving him such a shit car,” You groaned. “Great drive guys, thanks.”
---------------------
You walked into the paddock as they all cheered both you and Max on. Max had gotten P2, unhappy with not winning, but not mad that you’d won. He saw what you were doing for motorsports all around the world, how much pressure you were under as the first female driver in a long time, and how hard you were working. He wasn’t going to make your life harder by being an asshole off the track too. He gave you a celebratory hug and moved onto his driver’s room, as you stayed out with the engineers, chatting and celebrating with them. 
---------------------
Nicole Piatri’s instagram live 
“Hi everyone, Osc and I are right now, trying to sneak into the RedBull garage to see Y/n,” Nicole explained and behind her, Oscar smiled and put both thumbs up. 
“I’m going to be told off for this by Zak, so, sorry Zak. I want to see my girlfriend, my bad,” he chuckled, his apology only half-assed. 
Nicole and him continued faffing around the paddock for a while, until Nicole caught your eye through the window. You ran over to the door beside them and let them in, pulling Nicole in for a huge hug as Oscar waited behind her with a wide smile. 
He spoke to the live. “Apparently my girlfriend likes my mum better than me-" 
You cut him off with a kiss as you laughed at his antics. “Shut the fuck up,” you chuckled. “You’re such a baby.”
“I missed seeing you in the conference,” he shrugged, holding you close as his mum took the phone and documented this moment between the two of you. “I love you,” he smiled. 
“I love you too,” you chuckled, kissing his cheek. “P9? Not bad.”
He rolled his eyes and smiled. “P1? Not bad,” he lifted you into his arms making you squeal. 
“Osc! Put me down!” You squealed. 
“Let me win next time,” he chuckled. “Then I’ll put you down.”
“What do you want me to do? Switch our cars?”
“Ideally,” he chuckled, kissing your cheek and putting you down. “But I guess I’ll settle for watching you be gorgeous on the podium every week.”
“The fans are loving this!” Christian joked as he watched over Nicole’s shoulder, seeing how the chat was going crazy.
You both turned to Nicole with confused faces. 
“You’re still filming mum?!” 
This live has now been ended by the host. 
---------------------
Clip 16: Sky sports channel
​​Lusail International Circuit, Lusail, Qatar 
“Oscar Piastri has done the job brilliantly, the Australian driver will see the chequered flag first! Oscar Piastri wins the sprint to take McLaren to the top step once again!” 
“That’s P2 Y/n, Oscar P1,” Pedro announced. 
“WOOOOO!” You screamed, elated for him. “Fucking legend!” 
“I said P2 for you,” he reminded. 
“Shut up and be happy for him, just once,” you chuckled, pulling into the pit lane to park. You watched as Oscar got out of the car as you got out of your own car. Immediately, he ran over to you, wrapping you up in his arms as you celebrated together. 
“You did it!” You shouted, jumped around in each other's arms. “You’re fucking incredible.”
“You put up a good fucking fight,” he chuckled, smiling like a kid. 
“You’re going to look so sexy at the top of the podium,” you smirked and he blushed hard. 
“I wish you wouldn’t say stuff like that in public,” he chuckled, then hid his face in your neck as you laughed. 
---------------------
Post-sprint conference 
“So, this is a question for Y/n and Oscar,” an interviewer started. Both of you looked up, exhausted from the late night race. “Does your relationship prohibit you from racing to your full potential? I believe Y/n, you could’ve caught up. Did you give him this win?”
You scoffed, appalled that anyone would have the audacity to ask such a thing. “For fuck’s sake,” you sighed. “No. I couldn’t have. You know how you know that? Because I would’ve if I could’ve. I love Oscar, and I’ve loved him since I was about 14 years old, but that doesn’t mean that I let him win. He’s a ridiculously talented driver, and a fucking genius with strategy. His car is great too. But out there today? That was pure talent. I can love him, and wholeheartedly race him too,” you answered, getting annoyed at the comments like these you two constantly got. “And another thing, I’m getting really fucking sick of the questions about our relationship. Do you really think we’d be together if we couldn’t race each other and not come back to each other and be proud of each other? Seriously? Where is your critical thinking?”
The room was full of whispered conversation as you dropped the last diss, and beside you Oscar was looking at you with huge heart eyes. Anyone could see it from a mile away, he loved you. He chuckled, wanting to add his two cents as well. “Yeah, exactly. The only thing she lets me win in is chess, right?” He looked at you with a smirk and you rolled your eyes. 
“You won once, asshole,” you chuckled, pushing his hand off your thigh. 
“Then we stopped playing,” he shrugged, a cocky smirk very-present on his face. 
“We ran out of time,” you shrugged, feigning innocence. 
He cocked an eyebrow. “Sure.”
The tension in the room had been dissolved in the comedic moment, and you were thankful for Oscar’s calm exterior. You moved closer to him on the couch, and he wrapped an arm around you, smiling wide as you pressed a kiss to his hand, the one closest to your face. 
---------------------
Clip 17: Drive to Survive 
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi
“How are you feeling?” Oscar asked, sitting in your driver’s room with you before the race. He knew how worried you were, how much you wanted this. You had to win. You and Max were neck and neck. You just had to get more points than him, starting from P2. 
You sighed, standing between his legs and messing with his hair, favouring trying not to think about it rather than talking about it. He grabbed ahold of your waist and pressed his face into your torso, pressing kisses to wherever he could reach, trying to make you laugh. 
You chuckled and pushed him away, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m alright, I promise. Just stressed.”
“You won’t be stressed in a week,” he smiled. “We’ll be in Melbourne.”
You smiled, and kissed him again. “We will. Waves and relaxing. Nothing else.”
“Well, and Logan,” he chuckled. “So… ‘Merica and all that,” he smiled as you laughed at his bad joke. He got you down to his lap and he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You’ve got this, don’t worry.”
“Wow, anxiety cured,” you replied sarcastically, making him laugh. 
---------------------
Clip 18: Sky Sports Channel
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi
“And it is an incredible season for the first female in modern F1, Y/n Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first, with a Driver’s Championship 1-2 with her teammate Max Verstappen! This makes her the first female ever to win the F1 Driver’s Championship title! What an inspiration!” 
You’d done it. You won your rookie season. You were World Champion. You were a legend. 
“WOOOOO!” You screamed as tears rolled down beneath your hemet. “We did it! We did it!”
“We did it!” Pedro screamed. You knew the entire RedBull garage was going crazy right now. “You did it Y/n!”
“Thank you, everyone! This would’ve been impossible without you all! Amazing year! Incredible work!” you beamed. 
---------------------
“That’s P6, P6 Oscar,” his race engineer announced. 
“Did Y/n get it? Did she win?” 
“Yes, your girl is a World Champion,” he smiled. 
“YES! YES! THAT’S MY FUCKING GIRL!” he screamed, elated at the news. He knew you could do it. He’d always known you could do it. 
He rushed to get to the pit lane, ready to celebrate with you. He jumped out of the car and pulled off his helmet as fast as he could, watching as you ran over to him. 
“You did it!” He cheered. “My fucking girl.”
“I did it!” You cried, over the moon. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled. 
His eyes filled with tears as his heart swelled with pride. “You’re amazing. I love you so much Y/n.”
Neither of you cared about the cameras around you as you went in for a kiss. You didn’t care about how sweaty and gross you both were, you didn’t care about the grief that the pr team would give you, you didn’t care. 
You were a World Champion. He was your everything. You were his everything.
---------------------
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sturniolohouse · 3 months
Text
That's Life - M.S
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A.N: After the stream where Matt said he liked the name June– which has been a name on my baby list for YEARS now – I couldn't stop thinking about this scenario, so I decided to write it. Sorry if it's bad. (I'd also say they are still very young in this, maybe 23/24. But imagine any age you want, I don't really specify.) Hope you enjoy!
summary: dad!matt - a cute snippet of Matt and y/n becoming brand new parents and Chris and Nick meeting their niece for the first time. mainly fluff :')
warnings: none, really. maybe swearing and mentions of blood? (also use of y/n because apparently that is hated? idk)
word count: 2.4k
--
"Kid, hold her fucking neck." Matt panics as Chris readjusts in his seat on the couch.
"Matt shut the fuck up, I think I know how to hold my own niece." he retorts.
"No, you clearly don't you idiot."
I peer to my left, he holds her with one hand under her head and one hand under her butt, propping her in front of him on his lap. She's perfectly fine, Matt just worries.
"Look she's fine. She's with uncle Chris." Chris looks at her adoringly but Matt cautiously watches, biting his nails.
"How are you feeling?" Nick asks beside me, rubbing my shoulder as I eat my burger. I was starving and the first thing I wanted after giving birth was In and Out, so Matt made sure Nick and Chris brought it for me.
"I'm so tired but just relieved everything went okay."
It was a long labor, almost 20 hours and about an hour of pushing. I waited to the very last minute to get an epidural and Matt almost passed out once he saw what it actually was.
-
"That goes in your fucking spine?" He squeaks, his face turning pale as he nearly keels over.
I'm sat up with the anesthesiologist behind me prepping the needle. I grab Matt's forearms and bring him to stand between my legs so he's hunching in front of me before I collapse my head into his chest and groan.
"Don't fucking look at it, hold my hands." I seethe through the pain as I wait for the contraction to pass.
"I'm so sorry," He says into my ear as they stick the catheter into my spine and I stay as still as possible.
"I want In and Out after this is all over," I breath out, beginning to feel my lower half go numb.
"I'm getting you whatever you fucking want, sweetheart." He looks me dead in the eyes.
-
"It's kinda fucking nuts that she was just inside you, how the fuck did you like..." Chris speaks up looking between the baby and me. "Push her out..." He hesitates and I burst out laughing as Matt throws his arms up and shakes his head at him, stopping himself from knocking Chris' shoulder.
"Well, it wasn't easy." I wipe my tears from my eyes due to my laughter and Nick gives me my water so I don't choke on my dry ass fries.
"Women are the strongest people on the planet." Nick chimes and Matt smiles proudly, crossing his arms over his chest.
"That's fucking right. So much respect after all I witnessed." Matt rubs his eyes, seeming to be mentally reflecting the past 36 hours.
"She's so fucking cute, looks nothing like Matt." Chris comments, a small smirk growing on his face at the playful jab.
"Okay, give her back you're pissing me off." Matt quickly but gently takes her back even as Chris protests and pouts, sulking back into his chair.
"Lost your baby holding privileges," Nick points at him as Chris makes a face and sticks his tongue out, a throaty bellow echoing in the hospital room.
Nick immediately hushes him. "Can you not act like a barbarian? Fucking idiot." He scolds him.
Matt cradles her softly and my heart still melts at the sight of him holding her. It makes everything I went through so worth it. The both of them do.
-
I lay there in shock with a wailing baby placed on my chest. I look up at Matt on my left and he's got his hand over his mouth and tears brimming his eyes, staring at our baby with so much love.
My chest blooms with warmth and I look down at our daughter. Anyone else would look at her and think she was gross, being purple, covered in goop and blood, but she was quite literally breathtaking. Matt blubbers and bends down so he's more level to me.
"Oh my fucking god," he laughs through his emotion, wiping his eyes quickly and placing a hand on her blanketed back, her cries dying down.
"How the fuck did you do that? You're amazing oh my god." He rambles, kissing my sweaty hairline and I shake my head not really knowing how I did this either.
They let Matt cut the umbilical cord before taking her off me to bathe her quickly.
Matt grabs my face checking in on me. He scans all over my face,"You okay? You did so good, oh my fucking god." I nod quickly, feeling my adrenaline still rushing. It's a weird feeling to describe, but I am so happy.
"She was so tiny, did you see her?" I ask him, my voice a little shaky and he nods laughing, tears still shining in his eyes.
"I did, I did. She's perfect. Thank you." He kisses my lips this time and then looks over to the nurses bringing her over to him.
"You want to hold her, dad?" The nurse smiles and he visibly pales but nods nonetheless and takes her into his arms.
He looks at her and begins to tear up again, having to compose himself by looking up shaking his head. When he looks back at me, I'm sent me over the edge into my own fit of tears.
I would relive this day over and over again to just see that look on his face.
-
He walks over to Nick who's still beside me, bouncing her slightly.
"Nick, cmon. You've yet to hold her." Matt nods toward Nick to take her from his arms. Nick immediately shakes his head and steps back.
"No she's too fresh and tiny. I don't want to break her." He declines.
"Chris get him the pillow. Nick, hold her. You won't break her I promise you." I give him a reassuring rub on the arm and his eyes widen.
"I'm scared," He squeals quietly as he sits down in the chair and Chris sets up the pillow in his lap. Nick covers his mouth as he watches Matt walk over to him. 
Chris puts a hand on his shoulder, "Nick it's gonna be fine." He giggles at his antics and I stifle my own laughter.
"Dude c'mon, I'm telling you to hold my kid not a bomb." Matt rolls his eyes and Nick flips him off.
Matt places her carefully so she's snug in Nick's arms and he freezes immediately.
"What do I do?" He looks up at me in fear.
"Just that. You're doing fine. See, she's perfectly content in your arms." I tell him softly and grab Matt's arm so he stands next to me.
I kiss his forearm and he looks back at me with a warm smile, wrapping his arm around me and sitting beside me on the bed. He pulls me in gently before kissing the top of my head.
"I'm trying to see any real defining features in her but she quite literally just looks like a baby," he studies her face as Chris takes photos of them.
"She definitely looks more like y/n," Matt says, rubbing my arm lightly before stealing one of my fries from my tray.
"I think she has my nose for sure. She hasn't really opened her eyes yet, maybe you can try and wake her up. The nurse should be coming soon to help me feed her."
"I just realized, what's her name?" Nick asks, lightly rubbing her cheek with the back of his finger to try and wake her.
"Yeah, have you guys finally decided?" Chris sits down next to Nick on the couch.
Matt and I look at each other. We had been debating her name since we first saw her face. Of course we had a list prepared but we didn't want to settle on a name until we could match it to her face.
It was hard agreeing on names at first as we had very different tastes but there was one that kept coming back up in conversation and once we saw her it was a no brainer.
I nudge Matt, "Go ahead, tell them." I lean my head against his shoulder.
"Her name is June," They 'aw' in unison.
"June Iris Sturniolo." Matt tells them her full name and he can't help the smile that spreads across his face. 
"I love that, such a sweet name.” Nick smiles down at her.
"Does it have a meaning? Or did you guys just like the name?" Chris pulls back her hat.
"Holy shit, she has a lot of hair." he comments.
"Explains all of my heartburn." I huff and Matt giggles beside me.
"We liked the name and we were looking at lot of nature names, month names, classic names. We landed on June a few times when going over names but didn't want to make it official until we saw her." I start and Matt nods before speaking up.
"Well, we had some music playing during the whole labor and everything but after Y/N started pushing, our playlist ended and started playing whatever. And right before June came out, the song That's Life by Frank Sinatra played. And in the song, there's a line that goes: You're riding high in April, shot down in May but I know I'm gonna change that tune when I'm back on top, back on top in June. Right when we heard that and then we saw her face, we knew that was her name." Matt concluded and I tear up.
"That's so fucking cool," 
"Stop I have chills, oh my god."
"And Iris was my grandmothers name, but we also liked how it sounded with June. It was proven really hard to find a middle name that sounded good with June and Sturniolo." I laugh.
“I love that her name has a cool story behind it that you can tell her one day.” Nick says and I get emotional thinking about telling my daughter the day of her birth.
"Hi June, you gonna wake up for us?" Chris speaks softly to her. She stays put as Nick and Chris look at her expectantly.
"I wouldn't want to open my eyes either if I were just in a a warm dark place for almost nine months and all of sudden I'm in a bright ass hospital room with a loud idiot." Matt speaks looking directly at Chris.
"She must take that after you," I say playfully and rub his chest. He rolls his eyes.
"Aw, a little Mattitude." Chris uses a baby voice, tickling her belly playfully. “Look she even makes Matt’s stank face he does when he’s mad.” He points.
“Oh my god she does,” Nick exclaims.
"Not to be weird, but you are all basically her father since you have identical DNA. Also if you guys have children one day, they'll be genetically June's half-siblings." I state my fun fact and all their faces drop.
Nick gasps, "Wait, that's actually crazy because I was just going to joke around and say 'aw she has my eye-bags'." His eyes widen and I shrug at him proving my point.
"That's so fucking weird." Matt shakes his head in realization.
Chris acts repulsed, putting a hand up. "Yeah, I don't like thinking about that. I'm no one's father, thank God." He does the sign of the cross.
"Yes. Thank God for that." Matt says shortly.
"I don't know, I think Chris will be a good dad one day." I defend him and Matt gives the side eye. 
"Thank you y/n," He says with a hand over his heart.
He walks over to me and gives me a side hug. I kiss his cheek, offering him a fry and he takes it appreciatively.
"I'm definitely staying the fun uncle." Nick states, turning his attention back to June. "One day, you'll be big enough to stay at Uncle Nick's and I'll get you anything you want without your parents knowing," he says quietly to her but we can all still hear him.
She begins to stir in his arms and he freezes again.
"Oh no, she's waking up. Is she gonna cry?" he panics. "Matt quick, take her."
"She might want the boob," he says taking June out of Nick's hold.
She begins to fuss and squirm but Matt calmly shushes her and begins to bounce lightly.
"It's her feeding time in 15 minutes, should I try without the nurse?" I look up at Matt and he shrugs.
"I don't see why not. She's clearly hungry now."
"Uh, should we leave?" Chris says awkwardly and I wave him off.
"I'm gonna cover myself don't worry. Unless you want to leave," I say nonchalantly, not having a care in the world after just about everyone in this hospital has seen me naked. But of course I won't be flashing anyone.
"Junie don't cry, here's mama. She's got the food." Matt tells her quietly, bringing her to me as Chris clears my lap for me and goes to sit down next to Nick again.
"My baby," I pout as I grab her and her little cries die down once she's in my arms. "You already know the deal sister, let's see if we can do this." I talk to her confidently hoping I can do this on my own.
Matt stands beside helping me cover up and get June in the right position.
"There you go, all better." Matt speaks to her softly as she latches on and I exhale in relief. "Good job, mama." He runs his fingers through my hair and rubs my neck.
The nurse walks in mid-feed and praises me. "Looks like you've got it under control here." She smiles and checks my vitals quickly before stepping back out of the room.
Once June finishes eating I burp her upright on my lap, facing her towards everyone. At this point she's wide awake and everyone is staring at her.
"Oh my gosh, her eyes are like, gray," Nick says. 
"Can she see me?" Chris waves at her, shaking his head and sticking his tongue out.
"Her eyes will most likely change color, they can change up until she's a year." I tell them. "And she can probably see you as a blob, Chris. Stop dancing." I tell him and he stops mid griddy. 
"Oh..." He looks defeated and she burps loudly in that moment, making him laugh. "Why does she burp louder than me, she's like 12 hours old." he jokes.
I feel Matt's hand on my shoulder again and he gives me another squeeze. I look up at him and smile tiredly, he leans down to give me a kiss. Something we rarely do in front of others because we hate PDA. But we can't help it this time.
 I hear a snap of a camera and we both look to see Nick with his film camera.
"I couldn't resist. First family portrait." he smiles softly. "I can't believe you're a father, Matthew."
"Believe it, kid."
"Nick, will you actually take our family photos when we get home." I ask rubbing Junie's back. 
"The fact that you even asked that," he says looking offended and everyone laughs. "Of course I will, though."
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yandere-daydreams · 10 months
Text
Title: Idolification.
Pairing: Yandere!Itadori Yuuji x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 5.0k.
TW: No Curse/College AU, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Stalking, (Unintentional) Emotional Manipulation, Oral Sex, Drunk Sex, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (Reader's 27, Yuuji's 22), Intimidation, Brief Mommy Kink, Pepper Spray, and Obsessive Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
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“I’m so, so, so, so sorry.”
“It was an accident, you don’t have to—” Yuuji was cut off by another splash of milk, quickly followed by another jet of water. Her makeshift treatment was harsh, the temperature alternating unpredictably between ice cold and scalding hot, but Yuuji took the abuse with a smile that was almost bright enough to distract you from the red, aggravated skin around his eyes. Almost. “It’s alright,” he managed, eventually, doing his best not to sound like he was being slowly drowned in your bathtub. “Believe it or not, that’s only the second worst thing I’ve gotten in my eyes.”
Knowing him, it was probably closer to the fourth or fifth, but that did little to ease your guilt. He’d been leaving as you were getting home from your second twelve-hour shift of the week, and from there, it’d been a comedy of errors. He spotted you coming down the hall, haggard and bleary-eyed, and saw the babysitter who’d spent more summers than not keeping him (and, by association, his older half-brother) out of trouble before their family fell off of the face of the planet, and reacted the way Yuuji reacted to most things – with open arms and a contagious smile. You’d looked at him, a far cry from the kid you’d spent so much time looking after, and seen a very strange, very grown man loitering outside of the door to your shoebox of an apartment before charging towards you with a manic expression and, well, you had always wanted an excuse to use the pepper spray you carried near-religiously. It was only a shame it had to be on someone as sweet as Yuuji.
Now, you were on your knees on the floor of your bathroom, your fingers tangled in Yuuji’s hair as your roommate gently waterboarded him with a cartoon of organic oat milk in one hand and your decade-old showerhead in the other. The front of his t-shirt was soaked through, his lung half-flooded at least, but he was still grinning like you’d greeted him with a blank check and a litter of puppies. “Honestly, it’s on me,” he insisted, his enthusiasm too potent not to be genuine. “Miss Shoko mentioned she was living with someone.”
At the mention of your roommate, Shoko Ieiri, your attention shifted to the woman in-question. You weren’t an idiot. After the shock died down, it hadn’t taken long for you to piece together why a young man would be rushing to get out of your apartment while your attractive (albeit, socially dead) roommate was home alone. When she met your prying eyes, you shot her a pointed glare. “Cradle rocker.”
She threatened to turn the showerhead on you, but relented as soon as you flinched away. “He’s in one of my classes,” she muttered, then pushed herself to her feet with a soft groan. “We’re out of milk,” she said, shaking the empty carton. “Let his eyes air-dry. I’ll be in my office – come get me if he starts crying again.”
“I’m a doctor too, y’know.”
“You’ll be a doctor in another year. Right now, you’re an intern.” She eyed Yuuji wearily. “An intern who physically assaults her patients, at that.”
Without any real way to retort, you stuck your tongue out – a gesture Shoko mimicked as she slipped out of the crime scene that was your bathroom. Despite Shoko’s advice, you fished a towel off the nearest rack and handed it to Yuuji, who accepted it with a grateful hum. “I really am sorry,” you repeated, burying your face in your hands. “It’s just, it’s been so long, and you look so different, and god, it’s been—”
“—ten years,” Yuuji filled in, probably tired of hearing you repeat the same two excuses. “I remember, ‘cuz you invited us to your graduation that year. I wanted to go, too, but Gramps got sick and…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with an airy chuckle. “You know how it is.”
“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I loved your grandfather. How is he?”
Yuuji’s smile wavered for the first time. “He passed, actually. A few years ago.”
Fuck.
If the building was going to collapse and bury you in the rubble, that would’ve been the time.
“Sukuna’s doing good, though,” Yuuji went on, kind enough to pretend there hadn’t been a lapse. “He opened a restaurant a few months ago. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but it’s been keeping him out of the ring.” His expression brightened. “And you’re a doctor! I mean, I knew you would be, but you’re a doctor!”
You felt your face heat up his brother’s name, your eyes falling to the tiled floor. “Almost a doctor. I just started my internship.” And they’d already managed to work you half to death. “You’re in med school, right? Shoko never teaches undergrad.”
“It’s my first semester,” he said with a slight laugh. “It’s harder than I thought it’d be, though. Miss Shoko offered to give me a few pointers, but, y’know—” He sighed, let his head lull back. “I’m starting to think I’m just not smart enough for stuff like this.”
“You shouldn’t say that kind of thing about yourself. You’ve always been—” You cut yourself off with a sudden gasp, clapping your hands together. “If you’re struggling, let me help you study! I have tomorrow off, and I promise, I’m not as strict as Shoko.”
Immediately, he straightened up, your towel still strung around his neck and his smile returned to its full brightness. It only dimmed slightly when he glanced down at his damp shirt. “…there won’t be as much pepper spray this time, right?”
His smile was as contagious as it’d been when he was still a kid, begging you to let him stay up yet another hour past his already-lenient bedtime. Despite his bloodshot eyes and your lingering, only slightly lessened guilt, you found yourself biting back a grin.  
“No pepper spray, this time. I promise.”
~
“Room for one more?”
She glanced over her shoulder as you struggled past the jammed sliding door, taking a moment to evaluate your stiff shoulders and strained smile over the thick frames of her glasses before nodding curtly. Your relief was immediate and all-encompassing. Honestly, you should’ve known better than to do anything but shake your head and flee the country when Yuuji invited you to hang out with a few of his friends, but he’d sworn up and down that it wasn’t a party and promised that you wouldn’t be out of place and pouted in a way you’d never been able to resist. You were starting to think that, no matter how old you got, you’d never learn to say ‘no’ to Yuuji.
The blaring music was only vaguely muffled by the glass, the blurry outlines of other guests playing behind thin curtains. There was a red solo cup in your hand, a lipstick stain on your cheek from a girl who’d passed out half an hour ago, but you were hyper-aware that you were too old to be at a college party with people at least half a decade younger than you, in the best cases. You braced yourself against the balcony railing with a soft groan, crossing your arms and hanging your head low enough to warrant a hum of sympathy from the woman next to you. She held up a box of cigarettes – the cheap kind you and Shoko used to split on the days you had to decide between food and rent – and you accepted her offer with the kind of gratitude you could only assume a starving lion would’ve shown to a limping gazelle.
“Maki,” she said, shaking one into your open palm and fishing a lighter out of her pocket. “You’re one of Itadori’s friends?”
“You could say that.” You let her light you up before taking a shaky drag, the bitter taste a welcome distraction. “I’ve been tutoring him for a few weeks. I think he just invited me as a way to say ‘thank you’.”
Her eyes flashed with recognition, the corner of his lips turning upward for the first time. “You’re the chick who used to babysit him. (Y/n), right?”
“He’s mentioned me?”
“He won’t shut up about you. Every other word out of his mouth is ‘(Y/n) this’ or ‘(Y//n) that’.” She tapped her cigarette against the edge of the railing, sending a few flakes of ash fluttering down to the street below. “Megumi gets it the worst, but we’ve all had to see the fucking pictures.”
“That… that sounds like him.” You forced out a half-hearted laugh, then wavered. “I’m sorry, pictures?”
Maki opened her mouth, but the balcony door was jerked open before she could respond. Yuji appeared in the open entryway, cheeks flushed and grin wide. He drawled your name in a single slur before moving on to more important topics. “We found a—We found a karaoke machine! ‘gumi thinks he can get it running!”
You sent Maki an apologetic look, but she only shrugged, a sliver of a grin. “Better get him tucked in.”
This time, when you smiled back, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
~
It took a month for Yuuji to start ‘forgetting’ his textbooks when he came over for your little study sessions.
It took three for Yuuji to drop the pretense of studying at all – calling you out to some late-night diner or lethargic early-morning café or, better yet, showing up at your apartment door unannounced and empty-handed with only that unnerving smile and a half-baked excuse to spend time with you.
It took six for his hand to drift just a little lower than your shoulder while you watched some awful, b-rated horror movie on your well-beaten couch. You let him reach your waist before clearing your throat and shifting away, your smile pained.
“I… I think you should probably leave,” you half-mumbled, your voice shaking. “It’s getting late.”
“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” Predictably, Yuuji was undeterred. His persistence used to be endearing, but now, it just felt unfair. “I don’t mind sleeping over, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s not like we’ve never spent the night together.”
A nervous laugh, his hand planted just a little too close to your thigh. “I wish you wouldn’t phrase it like—”
“I mean, I know I’m your type.” It was almost impressive, what he could say with such an innocent expression. His free hand found its way to your other side, pinning you between the arm of the couch and his broad chest. “I know you had a thing for Sukuna, and everyone says we’re practically identical. That means you should be into me too, right?”
“Yuuji,” Your eyes darted to your phone, left absent-mindedly on your coffee table. The urge was there, but it wasn’t like he would actually hurt you. He’d always been a sweet kid – a little overzealous, but that wasn’t a crime. This was just… a bad decision, one you had to stop him from making before he did something he’d regret. “Sukuna is my age, and—”
“I don’t care about that.” He cut in swiftly, definitively. His bright eyes had glazed over, catching the dim light of your T.V. as he leaned in further, as his face came to hover less than a full breath away from yours. “I’ve loved you since I was eight. Can Sukuna say that?”
“That’s not—”
“I know you used to fuck him.” His chest was touching yours, now, his breath hot against your skin. “I know you’d fuck him again, if he was here. I know—”
You didn’t give him a chance to finish. It was a weak blow, simultaneously hesitant and instinctual, but your open palm made contact with his cheek with a deafening crack, his head snapping to the side and putting that much more distance between his body and yours. He moved to cup his swelling cheek, and you took the opportunity to slip out from underneath him and stumble to your feet. “I think you should leave,” you repeated, the words spat hastily enough to blend together. “Please, Yuuji.”
For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t speak.
Then, he turned to face you, his smile wiped away and his expression so blank, you couldn’t remember how you’d ever looked at him and saw anything other than void.
He didn’t say anything, only pushing himself to his feet and shambling out of your living room. You kept your eyes on the ground until his footsteps faded out of earshot, until you heard the front door creak open and slam shut with enough force to shake the walls.
When you were sure he was gone, you collapsed onto your couch and laid motionless while an actress screamed in the background.
~
“Your golden boy’s asking about you, again.”
You groaned, buckling at the waist and burying your face in your arms. Shoko glanced up from the exams she was grading, but whatever sympathy she might’ve felt apparently didn’t warrant the effort it would’ve taken to reach across the table to comfort you. “Satoru’s been getting it, too,” she went on. “That’s how you know it’s bad. I can’t remember the last time someone managed to talk over that narcissist.”
“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t remember how many times you’d already apologized for Yuuji’s recent fixation. “He’s… probably just worried about his grades, or something.”
Her lips quirked into a frown. “What are you talking about?”
“I was helping him study,” you admitted, reluctantly. As much as Shoko had to hear about your unruly patients and patronizing coworkers, you’d been less open about how much time you were spending with a student fresh out of undergrad. “He’s never been that good with school. I used to have to help him with his homework in elementary school, too.”
This time, she decided your conversation was important enough to earn her full attention. “Itadori’s one of my best students.”
You felt your chest tighten. “But, the first time he came over, you were tutoring—”
She said your name, curt and blunt, and you went quiet. With a sigh, she shook her head, dropping her pen entirely. “When was the last time I offered to personally tutor a struggling student?”
You swallowed dryly. “Never.”
“And when was the last time I gave our full address out to literally anyone?”
“Never,” you said, again. After a second, you added, “Well, there was that one time with Iori…”
“Not the point. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the kid’s a creep. You might have to—”
She was cut off by your phone buzzing against the table. Your eyes scanned over the caller’s name scrawled across the dim screen before moving back to Shoko, her gaze now narrowed into a sharp glare. “Don’t.”
And, for a second, you didn’t. You convinced yourself that you wouldn’t. You told yourself that, after you bought Satoru around of drinks as an apology, you’d do… you’d do something about Yuuji, even if you weren’t sure what you could do, just yet.
Then, you let yourself picture the kid you used to watch for a few dollars an hour while his grandfather was sick and his brother was on the other side of town doing something dubiously legal at best, dead in a ditch at worst – all wide eyes and scuffed elbows and lopsided grins. You let yourself remember the way he’d ramble about his day after you picked him up from school, and how excited he was the first time you made it to one of his school’s sports days, and how he’d clung to you and sobbed the day before his family moved to the other side of the country. At the time, you’d been thankful to have one less responsibility, relieved that you’d never have to see Sukuna again. You’d been selfish, even for a kid.
The phone was in your hand in a moment, the call answered in another. You stood as you brought it to your ear, hoping that would be enough to block out Shoko’s mumbled cursing.
“Yuuji?”
~
The silence in your car was thick, nearly suffocating.
It’d been one of Yuuji’s friends calling from his phone – the dark-haired one with the monotone voice, barely audible over the blaring music of whichever nightclub they were standing outside of. He’d asked you to, in his own words, ‘come get your problem child’, and when you’d asked why Yuuji needed you specifically, he’d only handed the phone back to Yuuji and let you listen to a full minute of whining, your name the only coherent thing to make it off of Yuuji’s tongue. Shoko urged you not to go, and yet, twenty minutes later, Yuuji was slumped over in your passenger seat, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in an uncharacteristic frown.
He was less talkative than he’d been on the phone. The clingier stages of his inebriation had passed, leaving room for a disassociated sort of passiveness that meant, even if you’d been brave enough to try and start a conversation, his response wouldn’t be anything worth that kind of effort. By the time you reached his apartment complex, the knot sitting at the pit of your stomach was equal parts dread and second-hand embarrassment, but you tried to keep your tone light as you turned to him. “It’s time to get out, Yuuji.” And then, when he failed to move, “You’re on your own from here.”
He looked at you, eyes unfocused and hands folded almost childishly over his lap. You softened more than you should’ve at the sight. “…do you need help getting home?”
A second of thought, a quick nod. You shouldn’t. You knew that you really, really shouldn’t.
And yet, somehow, you found yourself in front of Yuuji’s door, fussing over the lock as Yuuji clung to your side, his face buried in the dip of your shoulder. He was cooperative enough; able to stand on his own with minimum swaying but not so lucid that it took more than a gentle suggestion to lead him to his bedroom, where he was more than happy to collapse onto his unmade bed. With a shaky exhale, you turned to leave, but something caught on your sleeve – Yuuji’s hand, when you could bring yourself to check.
“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice dampened by the sheets his face was buried in. “Please?”
You felt your throat go dry. “I can’t.”
You expected him to go shrill and whiny, but he proved to be a touch more mature than the ten-year-old you used to babysit. Rather flatly, he asked, “Why not?”
How were you supposed to answer that? Would it be good enough to say that you didn’t want to, that you couldn’t spend your night looking after a drunk kid you’d known a decade ago, that you’d already done more than you should’ve just by giving him a ride? Was it worth trying to talk to him at all when he could barely hold his head up? Would it do anything to soften the burn of the bile rising into your throat to point out that, the last time you’d been in the same room as him, he’d tried to—
No, it wasn’t and it wouldn’t and you had to leave. With your heart racing in your chest, you tried to jerk yourself out of his hold, but his vice-grip only grew tighter, his head rising up from the mattress just enough to let him stare at you with those big, bleary eyes. “Why not?”
“Yuuji, this isn’t—”
He was so, so much stronger than he had been, the last time you’d seen each other. One second, you were on your feet, at his bedside, and the next, you were on the floor of his bedroom, forced onto your hands and knees while Yuuji’s body pressed into yours from above. “I love you,” he said, his voice as steady as it’d ever been. “I love you, and I—Fuck—” He panted against the back of your neck, something uncomfortably stiff grinding against your ass. “It makes me so fucking hard when you say my name like that.”
A hand slipped under the hem of your top, his palm pressing into the small of your back. You moved to speak, then thought better of it, biting into your bottom lip as your anxious squirming turned to full-blown struggling. Yuuji only laughed, the noise airy and affectionate, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you that much closer to him – making it that much more impossible to get away. His free hand worked clumsily at your top; drawing it up and over your head. You fought against it at first, but froze the first time you felt something stretch a little too far, heard fabric tear. This couldn’t happen, but you absolutely couldn’t be stranded in Yuuji’s apartment with no clothes and no way out.
With his face buried in the back of your shoulder, he cupped your chest, catching your nipples between his forefinger and thumb and pinching with just enough force to draw a low, strained whimper from the back of your throat. “So cute…” He nuzzled deeper into your neck as his touch drifted. Your skirt was drawn downward – a long piece, something you’d thrown on without much thought – then discarded completely, his own shirt wrestled off in the same motion. You felt his fingertips slip under the hem of your panties, but he pulled away and straightened his back, instead. For a second, you let yourself believe that he’d come to his senses, that whatever sick idea he’d gotten into his head had finally worn off, but the arm wrapped around your waist only drew tighter, hauling you off of the floor and into his arms. You were dropped unceremoniously onto the edge of his bed, and Yuuji sunk onto his knees between your open legs.
“I know you’ve probably slept with other people – aside from my brother, I mean. It’d be nice to find out you haven’t, though.” His tone was distant and dreamy. He was still drunk, but not drunk enough for how he’d been acting earlier. Not drunk enough for what he was doing now. He traced the pad of his thumb over your clothed slit, keeping a hand curled around your ankle to keep you in place. “I used to hear you with Sukuna – in his car, and his room, on the couch after you two thought I’d fallen asleep …” He trailed off into an airy laugh. “He likes to show off – always has. If he wasn’t my brother, I think I’d kill him.”
He sighed, pressing a lingering kiss into the inside of your thigh before shifting his attention to your pussy; his tongue laving over the thin material covering your cunt. You were crying, now, openly and audibly – your choked sobs almost loud enough to block out Yuuji’s quiet groans and pleased grunts. However his obsession might’ve made him think he felt about you, your distress didn’t seem to affect his appetite. Your panties were pulled down your legs and slid into some unseen pocket. With the last barrier between you and him gone, he was free to trace his tongue over your slit, to latch onto your clit and suck in a way that made you want to bury your face in your hands and scream. You tried to – crossing your arms over your face, but any sound you tried to make was quickly strangled into a broken moans as his tongue fucked shallowly into your pussy. It was invasive, disgusting, but your body didn’t care. You felt cunt clench around him as his nose ground into your clit, his need for air irrelevant while he spread you open with his tongue. Your thighs clenched shut, attempting to block him out, but his only response was a reverberating groan – and hand on your thigh encouraging you to squeeze him that much tighter.
You couldn’t tell which you hated more; the unwanted stimulation or the fact that your body was reacting to it, heating up where you needed it to go cold. As he sunk further into you, ate you out like a beast starved, you clenched your eyes and willed yourself to go numb, to ignore the sloppy sound of your slick on Yuuji’s lips. It was useless, though, as futile as trying to ignore him in the first place. Your back arched off the bed, legs twitching where they hung limply over his shoulders, and—
 —and Yuuji pulled away with a sharp gasp. He was on top of you before you could process that he was moving, his mouth crashing into yours before you could think to avoid him. The kiss was brutal, rushed; all teeth and tongue and lips shoved against yours with enough force to bruise. The only hint of tenderness was the soft, satisfied noise he let out as his tongue raked across yours, the bright grin painted across his lips when he drew back from you. “It’s alright.” He brought a hand to your cheek, cupping your face and brushing away tears with his thumb. “I’ve slept with other people too, ‘cause I knew I’d need a little practice to catch up with you. Could never go all the way, though. I just thought about you, and…” He blushed, simpered, like he thought he could pass himself off as the shy, lip-biting schoolboy with your slick coating his chin. “I guess I just didn’t really want anyone else to touch me. Not when I knew I’d see you again.”
A horrified sob bubbled up from somewhere deep and primal in your chest. Yuuji didn’t seem to hear it, only sighing as he pressed a lingering kiss into your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything,” he muttered, his hands falling to your waist. “I want to take care of you, tonight.”
You watched in stunned, paralyzed horror as he pushed himself to his feet, as he hastily worked off his jeans, his boxers (the dark material already notably stained with proof of his arousal). You made one more feeble attempt to squirm out from underneath him, to get away before his attention turned back to you, but confused and betrayed and so, so exhausted, you didn’t stand much of a chance against Yuuji. All he had to do was glance your way, his expression as warm as it was soulless, to leave you helpless against him.
He was eager enough not to reposition you, not to draw this out with the pretense of romance. With one hand on your hip and the other planted near your head, he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance and forced himself into you, bottoming out in a single thrust.
It was agony – pure and unrelenting. Any semblance of gentleness, of restraint fell away as soon as Yuuji was inside of you, as soon as your hyper-sensitive cunt clamped down around his cock. He cursed under his breath before collapsing, his chest pressing into yours as he tried to bury himself that much deeper inside of you, to chase the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth. As hard as you tried not to think about Sukuna, Yuuji hadn’t been lying when he said they were alike. He was just as insatiable as his brother had been any time you let him but his hands on you; just as rough in the way his hips ground into yours between sporadic thrusts. There’d been bruises, the next day. At least Sukuna had been the type to make sure he was gone by the time the damage set in. You doubted Yuuji would be so kind.
“I—I’m sorry,” he managed as he buckled into you. Panting against the dip of your shoulder, he took your hips in his hands and dragged your ass of the mattress, his brutal pace stuttering as he found a new angle to abuse. “Next time—I’ll be gentle next time, I just need to—”
His cock hit something soft and sensitive inside of you. Reflexively, your hands shot to his back, your nails finding skin and tearing. The moan Yuuji let out in response was nothing short of sinful; hitched and guttural, ragged and loud enough to block out the wet, slick sound of his cock pumping into your cunt. “M—” His hand wraps around your thigh, catching you under the knee and dragging it towards your chest, letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much faster. His face never left the crook of your neck, as if he was afraid to give you space to breathe. “Mommy, ‘m sorry, I need to—”
His teeth sunk into your throat as something hot and thick flooded into your cunt, as your body went stiff and your vision burned white. While his climax was sudden, intense, the peak to a decade’s worth of patience, yours had to be dragged out of you despite your attempts to hold it back, to deny yourself pleasure in the vain hope that it’d somehow be able to convince Yuuji to stop what he’d already finished. It seemed to hold you there in that state of dark, distorted euphoria for minutes – Yuuji’s movements turning slow and languid as he nursed you through your orgasm.
Eventually, mercifully, he went still, going limp above you with his canines still planted in the curve of your neck. If there was any pain, any other unwanted burdens he could force onto you, you were too lost in your own despair to notice, too distant to feel anything other than the mildest tinge of dread as he pulled back, raising his head just far enough to stare down at you, adoration heavy in his eyes and his grin wide and love-struck.
A small, naïve part of you found the sight suffocatingly familiar, while the rest could almost convince itself that you were looking at a stranger.
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little-diable · 19 days
Text
Wild creations - Tyler Owens (smut)
I just love pairings like these. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Tyler is the best friend of reader’s brother. When he comes visit their vacation home, it’s time for them to finally give in to the feelings both had tried to swallow ever since they had been teenagers.
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, idiots in love, brother’s best friend setting, some slight angst
Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3.2k words)
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“I’m not giving up my room, Jake.” Her voice dripped with annoyance and anger, hands pressed to her sides as she stared her bother down. It had only been a handful of hours since her return to their family’s vacation home, set on enjoying a week off with just her closest family around. Plans that were now slipping through her fingers like warm sand.
“Oh, come on, Tyler hasn’t been sleeping on a comfortable bed for weeks, you’ve slept in the guest bedroom before.” Jake leaned against the door frame, arms crossed in front of his chest while studying (y/n) with an almost bored expression.
“And why is that any of my problem? He’s your friend, you can sleep in the other room then. Now fuck off.” Perhaps she shouldn’t have come visit the same time as her brother, the one person she loved more than any words could describe, the one person she could also strangle with her bare hands more often than she’d like to admit.
“My mattress is shit and you know it. Please, (y/n), it’s only for three nights.” The deep sigh leaving her drew a bright smirk onto Jake’s lips. He pushed himself away from the door frame to step closer, to press a kiss to her forehead and to mumble a soft “Thank you”.
She watched her brother leave with tired eyes, wondering how she’d make it through this week. (Y/n) was no stranger to being around Tyler, one of Jake’s closest friends since their early high school days, but ever since she’s kept her distance. Tyler was handsome, smart, wickedly funny, a dangerous mixture she couldn’t get involved with - especially not since he was one of Jake’s friends.
……
“So how many tornadoes has it been so far? Quite the active season, right?” (Y/n) tried to keep her focus on her food as her parents kept chatting with Tyler, who had arrived a while ago. Even though she had tried to avoid him for as long as possible, she hadn’t managed to stay away for long, pulled into a tight hug that had lasted a handful of seconds too long. A hug that had made her heart skip a beat. A hug that had left her feeling light headed and dizzy.
“Too many to count, but it has been more active than expected, that's for certain.” Tyler’s smile showed off his pearly white teeth, eyes wandering around the table to focus on (y/n). She tried to ignore his gaze on her, not daring to give in that easily, but as his knee bumped hers, her eyes automatically snapped up to meet his piercingly bright ones. “How’ve you been, (y/n)? Jake told me about your new position.”
An almost half hearted, rushed reply left her, rambling away about her new position while heat crawled up her neck. Tyler’s grin was unwavering, glued to his lips, a grin that made her hands ball into fists as the realisation swapped over her that he knew exactly what he was doing to her. The others didn’t seem to catch on, lost in their own conversation about whatever Jake was telling their parents.
“Thank you for letting me sleep in your room, darlin’. I know how much you love that space.” His hand rested on her thigh for a moment while he reached for one of the food stacked plates, he squeezed her warm skin before letting go again - a touch that felt as if he had poured boiling water over her skin, forced to accept that Tyler was peeling away the layers of restraint one by one.
“Well, I didn’t really have a choice, thanks to your best friend.” A loud laugh left Tyler as he shook his head at her. For a few more seconds, he looked down at her, studying the woman he had always found himself fascinated by.
“You know, I wouldn’t mind sharing the bed with you, and I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time.” Now she really needed to look away, staring down at her food with her jaw muscles clenched. She had tried to forget about that night for years, how she had shared a bed with him drunk off her face, pressed to his side with his arms tightly wrapped around her frame. She didn’t remember much of that night, and perhaps it was for the better that way, yet the way she had felt overly protected and comfortable in his arms was forever etched into her memory.
“Jake would kill you.” The words rolled off her tongue a tad bit too loud, catching her brother’s attention who now looked at the two from his seat. Though while (y/n) kept her gaze locked onto her brother’s features, Tyler’s hand found its way back to her knee, comfortably resting there. She struggled to focus on anything but his closeness, the warm touch of his slightly calloused fingertips.
“Why would I kill him?” Panic flushed through (y/n), she cleared her throat before trying to scramble something random together.
“(Y/n) knows that you’re a sore loser, and I’m all for kicking your ass in another game tonight.”
……
She was deep in thought, staring at her reflection in the mirror while brushing her teeth. (Y/n) pondered over her choices, wondering if she should leave earlier to escape Tyler’s closeness. Being around him had always been hard, but today something seemed to have shifted. It appeared as if he was set on teasing her, on touching her at any given chance to make her body buzz in excitement.
“Can I come in?” Her eyes snapped towards his bright ones, staring at him in the mirror. Tyler didn’t wait for her reply, he stepped into the bathroom before closing the door behind himself.
Wordlessly, he came to rest next to her, keeping his eyes on the mirror with a bright smile tugging on his lips. She watched him squeeze some toothpaste onto his toothbrush before he mimicked her movements. His sweats hung dangerously low on his hips, telling her that he’d only need to stretch his arms to show off the muscular stomach she had seen too many times to count, forced to endure being around him whenever hot summer days were upon them.
(Y/n) had to avert her eyes, trying to speed up her movements to flee from this very room as soon as possible. She tried to be as graceful as possible with spitting out and rinsing her mouth before drying her face, but the second she tried to turn from Tyler, his hand snapped out to find her wrist. It only took him a handful of moments to get rid of his toothbrush and to lean back against the sink while pulling her against him.
Almost automatically her hands found his chest, pressed against his muscular body to stop herself from tumbling into him. Wide eyes stared up at him, getting lost in the rich colour reminding her of a summer morning, filled with excitement about what the new day would bring, and yet there was a depth to the colour she could barely pinpoint, something dark almost.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” Tyler’s hands rested on her waist, leaving (y/n) to curse herself for only wearing an oversized sleep shirt and a pair of panties he could easily get a glimpse of. Her mouth was dry, throat closing up as she rang for words to protest, to speak lies neither of them would believe.
“It’s late, Tyler, let me get some sleep in, please.” She mumbled the words, eyes no longer focused on his but rather on his neck. His eyes burned holes into her skin with their intense gaze, a burning fire she couldn’t escape from.
“Not before you tell me what I did wrong.” Tyler’s words managed to gain her attention, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He hadn’t done anything wrong - besides the teasing that had grown more prominent than ever before. He wasn’t the one to blame for her distance, god, she doubted there was anything Tyler could do wrong when it came to her. Oblivious as one could be, that was all he was.
“Nothing, Tyler. There’s nothing going on, I’m just tired.” Slowly, his hand began to move. His fingers grasped her chin, forcing (y/n) to look up at him while he silently studied her for a few seconds. He shook his head at her, as if she could read his thoughts and knew exactly what was going through his mind. Nothing but questions neither had an answer to.
“Talk to me, please. It’s just me, darlin’. I don’t like that weird tension between us.” Her eyes fluttered close for a second, followed by a deep, almost angry breath leaving her. With her heart in her throat, she pushed herself away from him, forcing his hands to let go of her waist at the unexpected need for distance.
“But that’s the problem, Tyler! It’s you, and it always has been. And I don’t know how much longer I can endure that.” Her glassy eyes were focused on the floor as she turned her back to him. He was too slow to catch up with her, still focused on the unexpected words that had surprised them both. All Tyler could do was watch her leave, blending in with the darkness lingering in the hallway - a darkness perfectly hiding the tears that began to roll down her cheeks as if a cloud of rain was following her around.
…..
“Tyler?” Her voice dripped with sleep, eyes focused on the dark frame stepping into the guest bedroom. (Y/n) could instantly tell that it was him, moving closer towards the bed with the mattress that gave in the second his knee met the soft fabric. He laid down next to her, pulling (y/n) against his chest with a sigh. It had been a few hours since their run-in and her accidental confession, words both hadn’t been able to forget ever since.
“I’m used to chasing tornadoes, to speed after those powerful, wild creations that can destroy everything and everybody who stands in their way. I’m good with asking myself questions we currently have no answers to, because nature will always be quicker and smarter than us. But I am a fool when it comes to you, and I’ve always been. I accepted that I’ll never get the answers I’d like to hear, well, all until tonight at least.” She turned in his grasp, needing to look at his features the lingering darkness hid almost completely. Wordlessly, (y/n) waited for him to keep on speaking, to give room to the pain dripping from his words.
“I fell in love with you as a teenager, I tried to stop myself, knowing that you’re my best friend’s sister. It’s wrong and probably fucked up of me, but I can’t get rid of these feelings for you. I tried, really did, you met my ex-girlfriends, and I guess it wasn’t fair on them. They were a distraction, a nice way to pass some time while my feelings for you kept growing stronger. You’ve always been there for me, always been by my side. I don’t want to fight that when there’s a small chance of you also feeling what I feel.” Her body forced her to shuffle around, to move closer and to press a soft kiss to his lips. Both their breaths hitched in their chests at the electricity buzzing through their bodies.
Tyler chased her lips, needing to deepen the kiss while realising that this was her way of giving in, of telling him that she had been plagued by the same feelings he hadn’t been able to shake. Without letting go of her, Tyler rolled (y/n) onto her back, allowing him to rest between her thighs as her legs found their way around his waist.
It felt like a dream, almost. Something both had imagined and dreamt of for years, all while accepting that it would always stay like that, a figment of their imagination, something that lived and breathed with the changing seasons. Their tongues met, slow at first, testing out the newfound territory before giving in to the pull that threatened to drown them.
“I’m so in love with you, and I’m so scared of it.” (Y/n) confessed against his lips, words that made him groan while kissing his way down her neck. Tyler instantly found the spot that made her arch her back off the mattress, pressing her chest against his in search of more, of something else he’d be willing to give to her.
“I love you too, darlin’, fuck.” Her shirt was pulled from her frame, exposing her naked chest to his glistening eyes before his followed moments later. (Y/n)’s trembling fingers explored his abs, his strong muscles that tensed beneath her touch. Tyler allowed her to have this moment, to grow comfortable with this new sensation - all while he tried his hardest to slow down, to appreciate every passing second.
“We don’t have to do anything, I don’t want to rush you.” Tyler’s whispers left (y/n) smiling, unable to bite down the heat that found its way straight to her aching core.
“We’ve wasted a lot of time, I don’t want to miss another chance.” It was all he needed to hear before kissing her again. With his weight shifted onto his knees, he let his fingers pull on her panties, pushing them aside to explore her warm folds. Her bundle of nerves was pulsing in need, desperate to feel his calloused fingertips on her burning up body.
She got lost in the kiss, hands finding their way to his hair to pull on his roots while pressing her hips further against his touch. He mumbled something about her impatience, words she spared no attention to as he pushed two fingers into her tightness. A moan left her, a sound that was muffled by the hand she pressed against her mouth, scared to wake those who slept only a few rooms down from this one.
“Gotta be quiet, darlin’, don’t need your brother to kill me tonight.” Her soft chuckles turned into another moan as he sped up his movements. Tyler was teasing her, preparing her for his twitching cock and the way he’d fuck her to make a silent promise to them both, this was something that would last, something both had fought hard for.
(Y/n) struggled to keep breathing, pulled away from reality by his touch, the way he fucked her with his big fingers while rubbing against her bundle. Tyler parted from her to spit down onto her cunt, mixing his saliva with her arousal in an almost possessive matter that made her moan once again.
He could tell that she was already close by the way her walls fluttered around his digits, begging him for more he wouldn’t give her - at least not before burying his cock inside of her. Seconds before her high could drown her, he let go, pulling his fingers away to bring them up to her mouth. Wordlessly, she parted her lips, sucking his skin clean to taste herself on her tongue, a foreign sensation she couldn’t help but enjoy. Perhaps she found enjoyment in the way he looked at her. Perhaps she found enjoyment in the pride and love swimming in his darkening pupils. Whatever it was, it left her feeling eager for more.
“I don’t have a condom on me.” His words were panted, torn between too many sensations as her hands pushed his boxers down his hips.
“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean.” Tyler nodded at her words, telling her that he had been tested only a few days ago. She knew that she could trust him, that he’d never willingly hurt her, something she had never felt before - a newfound trust that left her nodding her head, telling him that she wanted this as much as he did.
“Look at me, darlin’.” Her eyes flickered back up to meet his, keeping her gaze on him while he aligned himself with her entrance, slowly pushing into her. For a moment, nothing could be heard, nothing but stressed pants and a silent whimper. Sounds that were tried to be muffled by a teeth-clashing kiss guiding both.
He moved carefully, pulling out and pushing in again to let her adjust to his size, trying to hold himself back from moving too roughly. Only as he felt (y/n)’s fingernails scratching at his skin did he allow himself to add more pace. Their bodies met over and over again, high on the feeling of his cock perfectly stretching her, nudging against her swollen spot with every thrust.
This moment was a consonance, a perfect blend of emotions and sounds sealing a deal their hearts had already signed. This was something for the long run, something both would pour love and effort into while trying to adjust to the newfound love and trust they’d need to share with others soon. But tonight was all about them, about the way their bodies fit together perfectly, how they seemed to belong together with their hearts beating in sync and their accelerating pants matching up.
“You’re so perfect, fuck, you were made for me.” (Y/n) could only moan in agreement, head tossed back, neck bared to his wandering lips. She moved a hand between their bodies, rubbing her pulsing bundle to give her the push she could already taste on the back of her tongue. Her free hand pulled him down, fingers dug into his neck to hold him close for another kiss drowning out the sounds of her intense orgasm.
Tyler kept snapping his hips, burying himself inside of her over and over again as her orgasm washed through her. She was trembling, begging for him to give in and feel the same intensity she had been a foreigner to until this very night. Just the sight of (y/n), buried beneath him with a love-drunken expression tugging on her features was enough to set him free. Tyler followed her down the edge with a groan, face nuzzled in the crook of her neck to deeply inhale her scent.
“I don’t think sex has ever felt that way before.” Her mumbled confession made him grin with pride simmering inside of him. Tyler lifted his head, he pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before cupping her cheek with his big hand.
“I’ll gladly fuck you like that every single night for the rest of our lives, given your brother won’t kill me tomorrow morning.”
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xxlady-lunaxx · 4 months
Text
(DOMESTIC) SANEGIYUU HEADCANONS
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Sanemi is ALWAYS the one cooking
I’m sorry but I can only see Giyuu fucking up scrambled eggs or something. Sanemi cooks (or bakes) like a professional
Giyuu having a bedhead (he’s adorable) and Sanemi waking him up by either:
throwing a pillow on his face
running his hands through his hair and a “good morning, shithead”
One or the other, no in betweens
Sanemi usually does the chores like laundry, cooking, etc (malewife<33)
Giyuu can do things if given clear instructions tho
Hmm showering together just as a habit
If either of them were mad at the other (or they js fought) before bed, they’ll probably distance themself on the futon
When they wake up they’re always cuddling though
ouugh yes they share a bed
(it was so awkward at first like “ok… i’ll have this side” but then they got comfy and steal each other’s pillows (so romantic smh))
Sanemi definitely holds a longer grudge
Giyuu gets upset if he gets ignore too long, though, and Sanemi eventually caves
Why do I feel like Sanemi would just take pictures or videos of Giyuu randomly
When he’s asleep, when he’s just woken up, when he’s eating, doesn’t matter
Because Sanemi’s in charge of meals usually, Giyuu only gets salmon daikon once a week (which is already a lot as is, but he begs Sanemi for it so…)
Sanemi used to braid/put up his siblings hair a lot and when the two are cuddling, sometimes he makes little braids in Giyuu’s hair, or pulls it up in a high ponytail (often Giyuu wakes up with braids and his hair gets a lil wavy when he takes it out later)
Giyuu’s the baby in the relationship you cant change my mind. He’s the little spoon; he’s being carried because he’s tired; he’s given breakfast in bed.
Sanemi honestly doesn’t mind (he’s used to this) but likes teasing Giyuu about it
Giyuu has a bow of Tsutako’s (he stole a spare) and wears it to formal places always. (job interview? bow. prom? bow. work? bow.)
Sometimes Giyuu helps Sanemi hang up the laundry but they somehow end up hugging always (Giyuu goes on the other side of the clothing line and ThEIr lEgS juST mOVed By THemSElf)
On weekends, when there’s nothing to do, Sanemi will just scroll through his phone and Giyuu watching TV
Giyuu can NEVER not fall asleep during a movie though. depends on the day but he’ll either fall asleep 20 mins in or half way through
Sanemi doesn’t really watch movies and just slowly turns down the volume then off to not startle him awake
I can see Sanemi just volunteering to babysit for their friends (for free<3) and just having a box full of children’s toys for when they come over
Giyuu once overfed a baby to near sickness (“I thought her grabby hands were for more :(“ - “YOU IDIOT, SHE WAS TRYING TO PUSH AWAY THE BOTTLE!!”) and was thereafter forbidden to care for the children (unless they were older than, like, 12)
After a stressful day at work, Giyuu likes flopping down on the couch and having Sanemi run his hands through his hair and hum a bit, maybe small talk
I think Giyuu is actually an open book and horrible at hiding his emotions (like canonically as a child he was like that, only the deaths changed him sooo) whilst Sanemi is better at hiding things
But like after years of living with Sanemi/js being with him, Giyuu has been able to see small telltales
When he’s lying, Sanemi’s eyes flick every so slightly away (so subtly that only a few have caught it before), when he’s upset, he’s a little clingier or his voice is calmer (though many people interpret it as tiredness), when he’s angry but trying to stay calm he’ll probably have a lot of clenched fists (his hand opening and closing x100) but behind his back haha
Why can I see them both as dry texters tho.
Giyuu tries to sound more upbeat by adding emojis/emoticons but overall it’s basically just “Ok 😁👍❤️😋😚✨🎆🎉🎊🎏🍩🔥” // 😭 yeah he doesn’t have a lot of people to text…
I can also see Sanemi being a little old fashioned in a way, idk… He knows perfectly fine how to use a phone and shit but for some time mostly sent letters (except for casual/small talk ofc)
ok that’s it i can’t think of anything else anymore!!
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firewasabeast · 11 days
Note
Prompt: I've been thinking about a mixture of posts on here and I'd really love Tommy going to talk to Eddie because, maybe Eddie isn't being a great friend? I've read some people think Eddie would fall in line with Gerrard (due to being in the army etc.) and I'd love to see a Tommy/Eddie argument!
When Eddie got a knock on his door at 9pm on a Tuesday, he wasn't sure who to expect. He hadn't gotten a call or text from anyone, and he hadn't ordered any food. He figured he'd be arguing with Jehovah's Witnesses, asking them why the hell they were knocking on his door so late? Usually he'd avoid them altogether, but a little piece of him felt like arguing, so he swung the door open with a dramatic sigh.
He was surprised to see Tommy on the other side of the door, hand raised in a fist, ready to knock again.
“Oh. Hey, Tommy. I wasn't expecting you, was I?”
“Um, no. Can I come in for a sec?”
“Sure.” Eddie moved out of the way so Tommy could come inside, closing the door behind him. “Want a beer or something?”
“No, I really can't stay long. I'm heading to Evan's after this.”
Right. Buck. He should've known he'd be getting a visit from Tommy. Buck hadn't exactly left work, or Eddie, on good terms two days ago. Things had been tense for a few weeks now, actually. Everything had slowly been bubbling up until Buck finally burst under the pressure and was sent home early for insubordination. He'd actually been told not to return until he could learn proper chain of command, and if he couldn't learn within a week, he should start searching for a new career path.
“Is Buck the one who sent you?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Tommy shook his head. “No. No one sent me.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “So you're not here to kick my ass?”
“Should I be?”
“I don't know,” Eddie answered honestly. “I don't know what you've been told.”
It was kind of a ridiculous sight right now, if you asked Eddie. Two grown men, friends for months now, standing awkwardly in his living room. Neither making any effort to sit or get more comfortable.
“Evan's been having a rough time with Gerrard,” Tommy started. “Sounds like he's Gerrard's main target.”
Eddie shrugged. “Gerrard likes to push buttons. Buck's buttons are easy to push.”
“Last week he asked Evan if he'd like a bra to go with the apron he wore while cooking.” Tommy tensed even as he spoke the words. “That doesn't just sound like pressing buttons to me.”
“He's a wannabe drill sergeant pissed about the fact he never made it through basic training. You do what he says, keep quiet, use your manners, and make him feel like he's the most important person in the room. That's how you get through a shift.” Eddie moved to sit on the couch, but Tommy remained standing. “You know how this works the same as I do,” he added.
“Yeah, I do,” Tommy agreed, although his voice was a bit more commanding now. “Probably better than you do, actually. Doesn't make it okay.”
Eddie sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Why are you here, Tommy? I'm tired.”
“To try and stop you from becoming me, you idiot. I've been where you are. I've sat beside Gerrard and watched him treat person after person like nothing but garbage. I kept quiet, I made him feel important, I followed behind him like I was his damn puppy dog. I called him sir, I did whatever he asked, I laughed along with his jokes. You know what that made me?”
Eddie was starting to get annoyed. “What?”
“Him. I was no better than him.”
Eddie's eyes darkened. He stood back up, taking a step toward Tommy. “Are you seriously comparing me to that piece of crap?”
“If the mustache fits.”
“You need to get out of my house now,” Eddie warned. He could feel his body filling with the same boiling rage that got him thrown in jail a few years ago. He didn't need that to happen again.
“You repeat to me what Gerrard told Evan two days ago and I'll go,” Tommy offered. “Tell me what Gerrard said that finally made him explode and I'll leave.”
“Or I can call the cops on you for trespassing,” Eddie replied, moving to the door and opening it.
Tommy made no effort to leave. “Go for it.”
They stared at each other for a moment, Eddie's chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. When Eddie realized Tommy was never going to back down, his shoulders slumped. “Come on, Man, just leave.”
Tommy doubled down. “Tell me what he said,” he demanded, speaking each work slowly and carefully.
“H- He... God, Tommy.” He looked away from him, unable to maintain eye contact as he recalled the event. “Buck fell while we were at a scene, bruised his tailbone. When we were sitting down to eat, Buck moved slow. He winced when he finally got seated... Gerrard saw and said th- that maybe if he... if he spent less time taking and more time giving he wouldn't have so much trouble.”
“But,” Tommy beckoned for him to continue.
Eddie took a deep breath. “But he should have expected Buck to be the woman.”
Tommy nodded. “There it is.”
“Listen, Tommy, I-”
“He could've really used someone sticking up for him. One person to step in and tell Gerrard he'd crossed a line. I get that Hen can't do anything right now. She can't risk not getting Mara back. And I know Howie can't do anything to lose Mara. But you could have said something, Eddie. You could have been there for him, but you weren't.”
And there was the anger again. “Why the hell is it on me?!” he exclaimed. “I've been going through my own crap, and it's not like you or Buck have really been around to help me out.”
“Oh, you cannot be serious right now.” Tommy's posture straightened, his body somehow becoming even wider and taller. It would have caused Eddie to pause and think about what was about to come out of his mouth if he wasn't so mad.
“Yeah, I am serious. I've needed people too, Tommy, but you guys have been too busy with each other to even notice.”
“You made the mess you're in right now, Eddie!” Tommy yelled. “You did that! You screwed up and it's on you to fix it! But Evan didn't do anything wrong. He sure as hell didn't deserve to be talked to like that, and now his job is on the line because you decided keeping the peace with a piece of scum like Gerrard was more important than speaking up for your supposed best friend. So, yeah, that's on you!” Tommy began to make his way to the door, ready to push past Eddie on his way, but Eddie wasn't finished.
“Hey!” He yelled, shoving Tommy back so he couldn't leave. “I've been trying to fix everything on my own! Trying to get my own life back! Hell, I just got to talk to my kid for the first time in over a month!”
“And who you think got Christopher to answer the damn phone?!”
It felt like all the air had suddenly been sucked out of Eddie's lungs. He stood there, his mouth hanging open as he tried to find the right words to speak. “I... Buck's been talking to Christopher?”
“Every day,” Tommy confirmed. “He calls or texts. Facetime's him every once in a while too. He's been telling Chris how you're doing, trying to get him to call you or text you. He even suggested writing you a letter.”
“I didn't know that.”
“He didn't really want you to. Christopher had promised him the next time you tried to call, he'd answer. Evan's been like a kid on Christmas Eve, excited for you to tell him how it went after you two talked.”
Eddie didn't know what to say. He wasn't angry anymore, just incredibly disappointed with himself.
“He's always had your back, Eddie,” Tommy said, making his way out the door. Eddie didn't stop him this time. “It'd be really nice if you had his.”
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lizzieisright · 1 year
Text
Tranquility
dom!reader x sub!Abby
Summary: You want to help Abby relax and show her she doesn't have to control everything, sometimes she just can let go.
Tags: dom!reader, fingering, praise, consent checks, Abby doesn't really notice she is subbing, very light and vanilla, Sylvia Plath's quotes.
wc: 3.7k
MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
You don't jump into power dynamics right away when you get together: Abby doesn't even think about it too much - she just assumes since between the two of you she is the killing machine, big strong scary Abby Anderson, she'll be in charge like she is everywhere else. And you don't seem to mind, even though you had the sex talk way prior to having actual sex (I can't bottom every time if it's something you want, you said to her, and Abby agreed: she liked topping but she could bottom just fine). 
So the thought of power dynamics doesn't come to Abby at all, until one day. 
You are too good at reading Abby's mood - for some reason you can notice even the small shift in her. It's a superpower that creeps Abby out sometimes, how you can recognise her feelings and act accordingly. You don't make a scene out of it, you don't take care of her like she is a child who can't regulate her emotions, but you're there through it all. You're not scared of her anger or her tears, always calm, and for the first time in years Abby feels like she can rely on someone. Can trust someone fully. 
And today Abby is on edge. She is tired, angry and frustrated - the plan for the next supply run isn't safe in her opinion. Abby likes her plans to be foolproof, "if you think they're smart enough think again and dumb it down" type of fool-proof. Everyone said Abby was being ridiculous about it, and maybe she was, but it doesn't make her feel any better. 
And you obviously notice it. You watch her from the couch as Abby walks around packing, huffing every two seconds in anger. 
"I saw that plan, Abby, it's good. Everything will be fine. Manageable if something goes wrong."
"Jamie is on the team, and this idiot will get us in trouble." Abby growls. "And then someone will have to clean up his mess and someone will get hurt and it will slow us down-"
"Okay. Okay, Abs, stop." You put your book away. "Come here, you need to relax." You pat your lap and Abby stares at you before laughing.
"What, you want me to sit in your lap?" Abby asks sceptically. 
"Yeah." You pat your lap again. Abby is unsure and she feels ridiculous: she is not a lap dog, she is a fucking German shepherd.
"I'm too big to sit in your lap, baby." 
"Do I look like I give a fuck?" You deadpan. "Big girls need to sit on their lover's lap too. Come here."
Abby blinks. She likes that she is big and tall - it makes her feel powerful, but it comes with a cost. She doesn't get to feel small. And you asking her to sit on your lap opens something so desperate in her she gets scared. Abby knows she won't feel small, but she wants to try anyway. Abby tentatively makes her way to you, still unsure how it will work, but you tug her lightly and she straddles you. Abby feels like she is a giant on top of you, and she doesn't really remember where to put her hands. She settles on your shoulders.
"This is awkward." Abby assesses, frowning. 
"It's not. Sit, Abby, I can feel that you're hovering. I'm not going to break, I'm not made of dust." You push at her thighs so she can spread them and finally sit. You seem pretty happy with this, hugging her by her waist and pressing her closer to you. Abby is getting used to this, but it still seems ridiculous to her. She is used to tugging you to sit on her lap, not the other way around. 
"Am I too heavy?"
"I like feeling your weight on me. Makes it feel real." You grin and stroke her back. "Really, relax. I can read to you if you want."
Abby doesn't really know what to do. She has no arguments against you, and your lap is very comfortable. As well as being this close to you, feeling your body, your breathing, your warmth. 
"Yeah, okay. We can do that."
Abby does what you usually do when she reads: she puts her head on your shoulder and lets you snake your arms around her. 
"Good." You comment and hold the book with one hand while you stroke Abby's back with the other one. 
You are warm and your smell is comforting, so Abby puts her nose into the crook of your neck and breathes in.
"Yeah. Breathe. Deep big breaths." You say offhandedly as you look through the pages. It's weird. Abby feels safe and taken care of and it feels good, but it is too unfamiliar to be comfortable with it. 
"Would it be too childish of me to say: I want? But I do want: theater, light, color, paintings, wine and wonder. Yet not all these can do more than try to lure the soul from its den where it sulks in busy heaps of filth and obstinate clods of bloody pulp. I must find a core of fruitful seeds in me. I must stop identifying with the seasons, because this English winter will be the death of me-" You've read out loud and Abby suddenly resonates with the first line. Would it be too childish of her to say: she wants your care? 
"What is this?"
"Sylvia Plath's diaries."
"She sounds dramatic." Abby murmurs into your neck while you are caressing her back. Fuck it feels so good. She is so safe. 
"Bitch is all over the place sometimes. But she is a poet."
You kiss Abby's head and she leans into your touch, surprising herself. She isn't usually… needy, but right now something is different. The sudden safety of your arms around her, your calm voice and familiar smell makes Abby feel dangerously vulnerable. 
"You feel pretty relaxed." You notice as you now stroking her head, putting all annoying baby hairs behind her ear. 
"Yeah. It's so weird though."
You chuckle.
"In what way?"
"Usually it's you who sits in my lap. But this is good. Just weird."
"I think the word you're looking for is unfamiliar."
"Are you a thesaurus?" 
You laugh and kiss her forehead. Abby nuzzles her nose into your neck and your breath hitches. 
You know Abby doesn't mean to get you horny with her breathing, but you are getting horny. 
"Come here." You tell her and Abby lifts her head just enough for you to kiss her. She is warm and welcoming, doesn't rush anywhere and you are not rushing either, just enjoying the kiss. Abby relaxes into you and it surprises both of you - she isn't a person who gives up control easily. Hell, the whole thing started because Abby couldn't deal with people not doing everything like she told them to. But you feel how she puts more weight on you and you buck your hips into her. 
"Okay yeah. Still weird, but good." Abby pants into your mouth. You dig your fingers into her ass and press her into your crotch. "Oh fuck."
"Wanna make you cum." You say, panting yourself as arousal takes the hold of you. "What do you think?"
Abby looks at you with a lifted brow. 
"You think I'm going to say no?"
"Well." You kiss her jaw. "I don't plan on letting you do anything at all, so, maybe take a moment to think about it."
Abby stares at you as your words settle in. She will what, just lie there and do nothing? It sounds wrong, it sounds like she is going to be out of control, but also…
Also it sounds like the sweetest sin she could commit. 
"If you're not sure, we can stop. Like, fully. Or at any point you want to." You stroke her cheeks with your thumbs as you watch Abby. You know she is apprehensive about this idea, but you want her to relax fully and forget about everything. And you know you can give it to her if she just says yes. 
"Yeah. Yeah, okay. We can do that." Abby smiles bashfully and you kiss her, so fucking grateful for how brave she is. 
It's one thing to stare death in her face and win, and the other thing to stare in your lover's face and decide to trust them completely. And any other day Abby would have chosen death, but with you the danger can't get safer than this. 
So Abby lets herself relax into you again and just enjoy your touch. 
"Thanks." 
Abby chuckles, but it turns into a gasp as you move your lips down her neck while your hands are tugging on her shirt. Abby helps you take the shirt and the bra off, and you just caress her sides, looking over her. 
Abby knows you like how she looks, but having your attention like this makes her nervous. Your eyes are so dark with hunger Abby wants to look away but she doesn't, as sudden greed for your love washes over her. You look at her like you want to devour her. 
"Pretty." You sigh as you smile. "You're so pretty, Abs."
"I don't think pretty is the right word."
"Beautiful?"
Abby huffs but can't help her smile.
"Gorgeous?"
"Stop it." Abby says, playfully stern. "You're so sappy, god."
You grin and kiss her again, shutting her up - if you say she is pretty, she is, and whatever Abby thinks of herself is totally irrelevant. Your lips make a trail from her neck to her shoulder and you gently kiss her freckles, listening to Abby's breathing closely: it gets heavier as you move your kisses down, and these small sighs are the greatest encouragement you can get. 
You slowly move one of your hands up and cup Abby's tit, kneading her doughy flesh as she gasps. 
"Feels nice?"
"Yeah." Abby murmurs and runs her hand over your hair. It's still hard to let go so she tries to occupy herself in some way. She gently massages your neck and you kiss her just above her nipple. "Yeah, this is nice."
"Good. Let's take your pants off, I need them out of the way."
Your intonation makes Abby throb in her pants - it sounds so commanding and for once in her life she doesn't want to fight it, no, she wants to obey - it's easy with you. Safe. 
Abby stands from your lap and you help her take her pants and underwear off, making a small pile on the floor. Abby reaches to tug your shirt off, but you gently push her hands away. 
"Relax, baby. Don't worry about anything, okay?" You tug her back into your lap and sigh so happily when you touch her bare skin. "Your job right now is just to be pretty. Can you do that?"
Abby is conflicted: you don't sound patronising, but it should sound patronising, shouldn't it? She stops for a second to understand her reaction and you just watch her. You know Abby needs some time to process what is happening, so you continue caressing her back and her pretty ass that makes you drool while Abby figures out how she feels about your new behaviour. 
"Well I can try." Abby shrugs and you smile. 
"Thanks. I wanna call you princess, you know?" You kiss her neck and leave a hickey on her collarbone. 
"Call me what?" Abby laughs in the middle of her gasp at how ridiculous it sounds, but it's not a bad laugh. It's just embarrassing. "I'm no princess, (y/n)."
"Would you actually mind if I called you that?" You kiss her breastbone and Abby watches you. 
"Don't think so." Abby pants and looks at you impatiently as you finally move your lips to her tits. 
"Princess." You murmur and look into her eyes while her cheeks become bright red. "My pretty princess." You suck on her nipple gently and Abby gasps, squeezing your shoulders. The pet name turns her on - a lot of things turn her on right now even though they're weird and embarrassing.
You play with her other nipple and Abby presses closer to you, so you let your restraints go and use all your strength to move her closer to the point where her back is arched. Abby sighs, surprised - obviously Abby knows you are strong (not as strong as her, but strong nonetheless), but she never actually experienced it. Maybe you can make her feel small. Maybe you can make her feel like no one else could before. 
You slowly move your hands up Abby’s muscular thighs, caressing every line with your fingertips - Abby is too hot for her own good, and the hungry monster that lives inside you claws at your chest, desperate to have its way with Abby and make her forget her fucking name, but you’re patient. You would never push Abby into something she isn’t ready for, especially in sex, but you want to show her an alternative. Show that she can let herself forget her fucking name and it will be safe. Because god knows Abby needs it.
Abby watches your hands in anticipation and you smirk at her when you place your hands on conjunctions of her hips, caressing her hip bones with your thumbs. Abby is soft here, but her V-line makes her look sharp and hard, and it gets to your head. 
“I fucking love how strong you are, you have no idea.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea.” Abby chuckles, but she is impatient, so she grabs your hand and moves it down to her pussy. 
“Hey, don’t spoil the fun.” You scold her playfully and bring your hand back. “I’m not going to keep you waiting, princess. Relax.”
Abby feels how her face burns when you call her princess again, but it gets her wet, so impossibly wet there's probably a dark spot on your pants under her. Abby grinds her hips down, searching for some friction, and you push your hips up to let her have it. Abby shudders as her clit grinds down on your pelvis and her hands clutch your shoulders almost painfully as she tries to set a pace of her hips. 
"This is so hot, Abs. Fuck." You tell her as you watch her get off just grinding on you. You grab her ass and help her grind harder and Abby whimpers quietly, and your brain barely holds back your filthy mouth. You want to tell Abby how good she is, how she is doing such a good job getting herself off, but you hold it back for now. 
The friction is not enough and you know it, so you lock her in place with one arm around her waist, praying she'd listen to you, and snake your other hand between your bodies. 
Abby is so fucking wet your eyes roll back into your scull from how hard it turns you on. 
"You're so wet, princess." You murmur into her ear and Abby whimpers again. "You okay?"
Abby just nods and it clicks. Abby is getting overwhelmed, but she clings to you so you figure out it's a good overwhelmed. 
"Do you like it when I call you princess?" You ask mostly to make sure, but it sounds so seductive to Abby, a little mean maybe but in a good way. 
"It's embarrassing." Abby admits and squirms around when you cup her pussy. Finally. 
"Do you want me to stop?" You ask gently and look in her eyes, serious. Abby looks back, but her eyes are glazed over, she is too horny to care about being embarrassed by this point. 
"No. Don't stop." Abby grinds against your hand and you press her closer to make her stop. 
"You wanna cum already?"
"You keep fucking teasing me." Abby says, annoyed.
"I'm taking my time." You kiss her cheek and part her folds carefully, circling her clit with two fingers and Abby buries her head into your neck, moaning. You stroke her back to soothe her, but your fingers only get faster, the pressure is featherlight and it drives Abby crazy because it will get her to cum way too fast, and you know it. 
"Yeah, that's right, princess. Relax and enjoy, yeah?" You can't stop talking now, desperate to praise Abby and make her feel safe in your arms. "Does it feel good?"
"I- I can't fucking-" Abby moans between her words, clinging to you harder as your fingers get her closer to her release. "Icantfuckingthink" Abby says in one breath and you barely make sense of it.
"Oh princess, don't. Don't think, okay? Be good for me." You pay closer attention to her reaction, not sure if Abby would like it, but she is too out of it now. She whines - fucking hell Abby whines - and presses closer to you.
"Yeah, I'll take care of you, I'll make you feel good." You promise her and slide your fingers down, gently pressing at her hole. Abby arches into your fingers, trying to get them inside, and your heart melts. "You're so cute, fuck. You want my fingers?" 
Abby growls at you, refusing to talk, and you chuckle. 
"Just nod for me, okay? Or shake your head."
Abby takes a second to process your words and then she nods. 
"Good girl." 
That makes Abby open her eyes in shock and her walls clench around nothing to push her slick into your hand, and you can tell she liked it. 
"Can I call you that, princess?" You slowly push your fingers inside and just move them to feel how soft and hot Abby is. She suddenly grinds down on your hand and you kiss her shoulder. "Nod or shake." You remind her. 
Abby nods, her embarrassment totally forgotten by this point: she feels small, safe and taken care of, and the way you talk to her only makes it better. Your stupid spidey senses let you know when to check in with her and Abby never knew it could be this way - that giving consent can turn her on so much because you ask for it like you're dirty talking to her. 
And you are so close and you hold her so tightly Abby feels grounded even though she is so overwhelmed she can't think anymore. She just feels, her world only exists in the tactile plane now, and your voice carries her away. 
"Yeah, don't think, princess, I want your head empty and your pretty cunt stuffed with my fingers." You murmur into Abby's ear and she buries her face in your neck deeper as you curl your fingers inside her. Abby moans quietly and you feel how you lose any self-control you had before. 
You pick up the pace, catching the balance between overwhelmingly fast and not fast enough just so you won't disturb Abby's delicate headspace, and you just listen to her. Abby is not loud, never been, but that what makes it so magical - every sigh turns into a quiet whimper the longer you fuck her, and then you feel it, how Abby clenches around your fingers, her orgasm coming closer. 
"You're close, princess, I can fucking feel it. Do you feel it? Does it feel nice when you're so tight around me?"
"Yeah." Abby says in a hoarse low voice and your teeth fucking ache because you want to sink them into her so much. 
"Fuck Abby." You kiss her temple and suddenly you're fucking her so hard Abby gets tense in your arms, overwhelmed. "You have no idea what you do to me."
But Abby is not listening to you because you turn your hand just enough so you could thumb her clit and-
"Fuck!" Abby shrieks and closes her thighs on you as she cums. You stop moving your fingers inside her to enjoy how she pulsates around them, but you continue thumbing her clit."Fuck-fuck, stop-" Abby asks when it becomes too much and you obey her. 
Abby is panting hard and you just kiss her neck and shoulders, waiting for her to calm down, but you can't help yourself so you start slowly moving your fingers in and out. 
"You feel amazing around my fingers, princess."
"Fuck, don't stop, please, don't fucking stop-" Abby whispers and hugs you around your neck. You’re more than happy to oblige, and you can’t help your mean smile as you move your fingers slowly but thoroughly, getting a feel of every centimetre of Abby’s walls. 
It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for Abby to whimper and shudder in your arms again, drenching your hand up to your wrist, and you gently kiss her to help her calm down. Abby is limp on your lap, her head comfortably tucked in your neck as she pants. Abby feels exhausted but ridiculously happy, giddy even - you opened something in her, something that freed her vulnerability fully. God, Abby always knew she could trust you, let you watch her back, but the thought she could be so vulnerable and small with you never crossed her mind.
“Do you want to nap, baby?” You murmur in her hair and Abby hums in agreement. “Okay, let me put your shirt back on, yeah?”
Abby reluctantly lets you put the shirt on her and wrap a blanket around both of you as you adjust your position so you’d be lying down while Abby would be on top of you, so it would be comfortable for her to rest. You open your book again while Abby’s breathing evens out.
“I am watching a pale blue sky be torn across by wind fresh from the russian steppes. Why is it that I find it so difficult to accept the present moment, whole as an apple, without cutting and hacking at it to find a purpose, or setting it up on a shelf with other apples to measure its worth or trying to pickle it in brine to preserve it, and crying to find it turns all brown and is no longer simply the lovely apple I was given in the morning?”
The present moment, whole as an apple - Abby doesn’t have to worry about not accepting it, lulled by your voice and your warmth and your smell - after all, the present is all she has.
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luvmmarner · 2 years
Text
PROMPTS OF ALL PROMPTS
I would definitely make intense smut prompts later! For now I hope you enjoy these fluff angst prompts instead! Requests are always opened!
For others that want to use these prompts! You're free to do so! Just tag me no need to credit. I would love to read it and see what you came up with! -- FLUFF PROMPTS 
“Can you hug me”
“My teammates gets annoyed because I talk about you 24/7”
“Can we have a date night tonight?”
“Do you know you're pretty” 
“Why are you being a pain?” 
“Stop simping for me you simp” 
“Your blushing you idiot” 
“Are you kidding me? I love cuddles” 
“Your hair smells good.” 
“I just want to lay here all day” 
“Can you wash my hair for me?” 
“I really need you right now”
“I like you.. well no… I love you” 
“I love your smile” 
“You sent me inappropriate pictures. When I was out in public” 
“Why are you so clingy?” 
“Fine. We can stay home tonight” 
“Dance with me in the rain” 
“Let’s jump in the puddles!” 
“Can I sit on your lap?” 
“Kiss me please!” 
“Can you rub my arm in circles?” 
“I’m wearing your shirt if that’s fine!” 
“This still smells like you” (long distant or for breakups) 
“Your mom gave me pictures of you when you were a baby.” 
“Stop you’re making me blush in public” 
“Don’t… I’m ticklish —“ 
“I can’t sleep can I stay here”
“I had a nightmare…”
“I care about you”
“You mean everything to me”
“You make me feel like I’m at home every time”
“Can I give you a hug? You look like you need one”
“Stop denying it! You need sleep”
“You’re so adorable.”
“You make me so happy.”
“I need pads”
“I don’t ever want to lose you”
“I feel better now that you’re here with me”
“It’s like we are meant to be”
“I’m not going anywhere”
“I feel safe when I’m with you”
“I can’t reach the top shelf.. Can you help?”
“Here take my jacket.”
“I just started my period…”
 “I’m right here baby, it’s okay”
“I’m so in love with you.”
“I’m never leaving you.”
“You're mine forever.”
“Should we make it official?”
BEACH PROMPTS
“Can you do my sunscreen?” 
“Why is your massages better than you scratching my back” 
“Please come in the water” 
“Stop it’s cold!” 
“I'm going to splash you!” 
“My sandcastle is better than yours” 
“I won!”
“Don’t throw me in the water!!!”
“I’m trying to tan”
“Stand in front of me you block the sun”
“Can you give me a piggyback”
“The sand is hot” 
“Come with me on the floatie!”
“Can you set up the umbrella?”
WINTER PROMPTS
“it’s snowing!” 
“We are locked in…”
“Let’s look at the stars through the window”
“Can we bake gingerbread cookies”
“You got frosting on your face”
“It’s so cold..”
“I love hot coco.”
“Look! I caught a snowflake in my mouth!”
“You got snow in your hair!”
“My snowman is better!”
“Whoever gets to the bottom of the hill first wins!”
“It’s freezing, could you turn on the heat?”
“Snowball fight!!!”
“I got snow in my boots, now my feet are cold.”
“Dw! I’ll warm you up!”
“Let’s build a fort!”
“This is the perfect time to set up the Christmas tree!”
“Ooh! I love sledding!”
“Woo! That was sooo fun!”
“Here! I made this one just for you!”
“You have such good decorating skills!”
SUMMER/CAMPING PROMPTS
“It’s so hot!”
“Can I borrow your hat please?”
“May you buy me a slushie? I forgot my wallet”
“The mosquitoes are killing me”
“Here let me spray you”
“Let’s go on a hike!”
“The sun is so bright.”
“Did you forget the sunscreen.”
“Baby, can you get my backside please?”
“I want to go swimming.”
“Can we just stay inside!”
“This is the perfect spot to set up our campsite.”
“I got the marshmallows!”
“I’ll help you set up the tent. But.. I don’t know how.”
“I’m already tired.”
“Let's roast marshmallows!”
“I made a smore just for you!”
“We can share.”
“Come swimming with me!”
“The water is sooo warm.”
“I rented a boat. You know how to drive it right..?”
“Don’t worry, of course I got the beer.”
“I love summer parties.”
“No… I didn’t steal your towel… Ok fine I did”
“Put me down – Ok ok fine fine! You win.”
“Can we go on a road trip?”
“You pushed me into the water, you jerk!”
“I couldn’t help myself… All the ice-cream flavours looked so good!”
“I didn’t buy any more ice cream.. The receipts are lies!!!!”
“Can we stay longer!!”
ANGST/ARGUMENT/BREAKUP PROMPTS
“You promised me.”
“You lied. You said you would never leave me.”
“Don’t lie to me. I know everything”
“Please don’t do this.”
“I loved you.”
“Why don’t you trust me”
“This can’t be goodbye.”
“Please don’t walk out.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I don’t love you.”
“We were never meant to be.”
“I just wanted to be enough for you.”
“I don’t forgive you.”
“Stop saying sorry! It’s always ‘I’m sorry’. When you really aren’t”
“If you’re sorry, why did you leave me?”
“You thought I was dumb.”
“I know you’re lying.”
“Why did I fall in love with you.”
“I’m so stupid to think we had something.”
“You never cared about me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop being selfish.”
“I moved on.”
“You cheated on me.”
“This isn’t working…”
“No. We can’t… we are too toxic for each other.”
“Why me..”
“Us? There was never an ‘us’.”
“I’m done.”
“It’s better if we just stop seeing each other.”
“I can’t love you.”
“You broke my heart so carelessly. Now you want forgiveness?”
“You don’t deserve me.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Your always mad at me.”
“What do you want? Because I could care less.”
“I was such a fool.”
“You talked to her and then lied about it.”
“You told people that you were single…”
“I thought you loved me..”
“How could you…”
“That’s not going to happen. I already told you.”
“What's wrong with you seriously?”
“You lost me”
“Where’s your new gf/bf?”
“Shouldn’t you be with your new gf/bf”
“I thought things were going amazing”
“I thought wrong…”
“This is goodbye.”
“Don’t you love me?”
“I can’t live without you.’
“What did you expect me to say?”
“Our relationship is in the past. I’m sorry.”
“I like someone else.”
“This will be the last time you lie to me.”
“How did you think this wouldn’t hurt me?”
“I think it’s best if we don’t meet again.”
“You didn’t love me, did you?”
“I hope you're happier.”
“At least you got what you wanted”
“I was miserable and I still loved you.”
“Stop pretending. You wanted me like this… You wanted me broken and you got what you wanted.”
“We can’t keep talking. This isn’t healthy.”
“It’s best if we stop talking… like forever.”
“You're not the same person I fell in love with.”
“You don’t own me.”
“You act like everything is fine when it’s not!”
“Can we not argue for once.”
“Not now. Not even in a million years. I would ever think to give you another chance.”
“I fell for your lies again, and now I’m not anymore.”
“I was nothing to you. I was only a toy for you to manipulate and I fell for it.”
“Why wouldn’t you admit to everything! This was all your fault.”
“I hate you.”
“I despise you.”
“You were my ride or die.”
“I don’t fall in love. I don’t want to be loved or love someone else.”
“If I leave you know you would never see me again.”
“I deserve better.”
“You were my first and would be my last.”
“Don’t – Don’t make me fall in love again.”
“You know we can’t..”
“I know this is random and we haven’t talked in awhile.. But can you stay with me one more night and just forget about everything.”
“It was indeed. The wrong place the wrong time”
“Good for you!”
“Why can’t you be happy for me for once?”
“We shouldn’t be together anymore. I’m supposed to hate you.”
“How could I be so oblivious..”
“Why did I even think I could be enough for you.”
“I needed to hold you once more.”
“I don’t understand.. Wha- what are you saying..”
“I don’t want to say something I’ll regret later.”
“Don’t bother to call me when you need something later.”
“I didn’t mean to. I was just mad..”
“Please forgive me.”
“Why are you suddenly coming back into my life after I just started to do good.”
“Do you not understand the words ‘I’m done’.”
“Haha! You think I love you? That’s pathetic.”
FICS/STORY IDEAS
Here’s some storyline ideas. You can decide if you want it angst or fluff or whatever! I don’t mind if you take this ideas. You don’t need to credit just a tag, so I could read it! Would be great!
All the promises were already broken. 
Just one more night with no feelings, nothing. After that we forget.
Reader finds out their relationship was nothing, but a lie.
He wanted her back. She moved on. 
Even after breaking up. They still find ways back to each other.
He manipulated her and she fell for it.
They are toxic for each other. But always end up in bed with each other.
He wanted her back but she isn’t giving him another chance.
He left her and she still wanted him back.
They were never meant to be and they knew that. They just can’t let each other go.
She just wanted to be enough for him, but he didn’t care.
He cheated and she found out. Now he realized he can’t live without her.
He didn’t deserve her. But her love for him is stronger.
They thought they had something. But then decided it was best if they stopped seeing each other.
She always forgave him, but this time she didn’t.
How could you be in love with someone who is always mad at you. She knew it was best if she just left. But after everything they've been through it wasn’t going to be easy.
She couldn’t love him as much as she wanted to. It was forbidden to sleep with someone you worked for. But she couldn’t help but ignore the rule.
He was such a fool for letting her into his life. But maybe it was the best thing to happen to him.
They broke up, but they can’t live without each other.
Their relationship was fragments of the past, but deep down their love was still stronger than ever. What happens when they meet again?
She thought things were going amazing. Well she thought wrong.
He got what he wanted and he was happy. Meanwhile she was still broken and miserable.
Their relationship was amazing at the start. But over time the person that she fell in love with wasn’t the same.
After years of talking. They decided it was best if they stopped. Maybe it actually didn’t stop in the end.
He didn’t listen and thought everything was fine. She knew everything wasn’t fine and just wanted him to listen.
She despised him. He was arrogant and only cared about himself. That was until he gave her a ride home.
She didn’t want to fall in love with him again until his touch made her do the one thing she didn’t want to do ‘fall in love again’.
They stopped talking, but he called her wanting just one more night to forget about everything.
No denying they loved each other. But this was their third breakup. It was just best if she left for good.
He was her first love and would be her last. (either she could meet someone else or something!)
He didn't care about any girls and most importantly. He didn’t fall in love. That was until he saw her and his whole life changed.
She knew he was pretending and she wasn’t falling for it.
After years of dating they finally said the 3 words. ‘I love you’
Maybe being snowed in wasn’t so bad after all.
He didn’t seem to understand the words ‘I’m done.’ If they were done, why was she in his bed again.
After years of apologizing. Apology accepted.
After she said don’t ‘bother calling when you need something’. Turns out it was her in the end calling for something.
Maybe jealousy is something that can reunite the flame that was lost.
He was jealous and she didn’t care.
She didn’t trust him. Until one night when drinks got the best of her, and waking up on his couch realized how wrong she was.
She thought he didn’t love her. Until he showed her how much he did.
He didn’t understand that she was breaking up with him. She wanted so badly to say no. But her desires got the best of her.
5K notes · View notes
kingofthecotas · 5 days
Text
find tomorrow with you
5 times valentino suggests they get married and 1 time marc does | 2.4k words
5+1 is a fun and whimsical format that we should use more often
–––
i. 
It’s not the first time Marc has been to Tavullia since Valentino decided his life was infinitely better when they spoke—and, indeed, fucked—but today is the first time he truly seems comfortable. 
Pecco being here is helping, helping soothe the agitation that is all Bez’s, helping to be a friendly face—and Luca, if he weren’t finding it all so funny, would be helping as well. Marc is smiling, talking, laughing—and he isn’t dragging his feet as they all get ready to ride. That’s the crux of it, the load-bearing pillar that crumbled their first time around. 
Not this time. They won’t let it. 
(Not ever again, Valentino won’t let that happen ever again. He won’t do that to Marc ever again.)
It’s never polite when they race at the ranch. It’s animalistic, all friendship abandoned at the archway that marks the start of the track, screeching under helmets as they tear around corners and dive into the side of opponents. No quarter. No prisoners. 
Naturally, Marc, now he’s comfortable, is perfectly suited to this kind of all-out warfare. 
(He’s terrifying. Valentino is entranced. He loves him.) 
It happens after about an hour, all of them hot and tired but no one willing to throw a white flag. Marc goes for the lead, throws it up the inside of Bez, and outbrakes himself. He skids to the edge of the track, where his front tyre finally surrenders, and he’s sliding through dirt, one leg dragged with the bike.  
Even over the growl of two-stroke engines, Valentino can hear Bez’s, “Oh shit.” 
He pulls to the side of the track, kicks the peg-stand down with a practiced ease that covers his panic, because Marc is staggering away from under his bike, is collapsing on his back, shoulders shaking, and what if he’s hurt—?
“Marc?” 
Marc is cackling like a maniac, leathers dusted white, one hand over the part of his helmet where his forehead would be—even Bez can’t stop himself laughing in return. 
Valentino kneels beside him, pushes his visor up. Then he pushes Marc’s open, too.
“You idiot,” he says, slow and deliberate, yet without sting. 
Marc laughs harder. “That was fun!”
Valentino leans down, helmets almost touching. “I am going to divorce you.”
Bez chokes on his giggle.
Marc doesn’t miss a beat, eyes still smiling at Vale through his visor. “You have to marry me to do that.” 
“I will marry you,” Valentino agrees, “and then I will divorce you.” 
Marc laughs again. 
——
ii.
Valentino’s phone alarm goes off at 5:45, fifteen minutes to spare before lights out, and he stifles a groan, rolls away from Marc. Marc does not appreciate being woken up before seven on a Sunday. 
(He knows that. He loves that he knows that.) 
Qualifying had been hairy, drizzling but not completely wet. It should be a dry race, though, and he settles himself on the sofa downstairs just in time for the broadcast to start scrolling through the starting grid. Kimi had done well, and he smiles.
There’s a noise in the doorway: Marc, a hoodie thrown over his bare chest, eyes heavy.
“Good morning,” Valentino says, raspy. “Did I wake you up?”
“Who has a race at this time?” Marc grumbles. 
“They are in Japan,” Valentino says, and lets Marc crawl into the space next to him, tired and clumsy with it. “Now you know what it is like when I am watching you in Japan, or Malaysia, or Australia.”
Marc groans in the back of his throat.
“You could go back to bed.”
“You’re not there.” Unfocused eyes peering over the top of his hoodie, Marc glares at the screen, seemingly unaware that he’s just curled something warm and tender around Valentino’s ribs. “Who are we cheering for?”
“Ah, your friend Carlos managed only twelfth. It is Piastri and Verstappen at the front—Kimi is there in fourth, you see? And the Ferraris in fifth and sixth—always we want them to do well. Lando had a penalty, so he is seventh, but the McLaren should be fast here.”
They’re pulling away for the formation lap, weaving to warm their tyres. Marc watches, focused as ever, until he yawns. Valentino shushes him. 
“They are not even racing,” 
“They are explaining the strategy.”
Lights out. Clean start. Marc is watching more intently now, undivided attention, check pressed against Valentino’s arm.
Ten laps in, Gasly dives down the inside of Ocon, and they’re both spinning off into grass and gravel; embarrassing but harmless, enough to bring out the safety car. Valentino pulls himself free and goes to make coffee. 
Marc is barely visible beneath the throw when he returns, dark eyes glaring balefully at the television like it’s offended him personally, but he softens when Valentino hands him a mug.
“You are the best,” he mumbles, then, “At making coffee.”
Valentino laughs—once, he might have bristled at the harmless joke—and slides back into his spot between Marc and the sofa arm. Marc thumps his head down, somehow burying himself even deeper in his swaddling of blanket and hoodie and Valentino. 
It’s—it’s something they never would have imagined, even two years ago. It’s gentle, early Sunday mornings wrapped around each other; the kind of softness that shouldn’t be possible after years of tearing each other apart, digging in fingers and pulling until they drew blood. 
Valentino doesn’t ever want to go there again. He doesn’t ever want to lose this. 
Marc is breathing softly against his arm, still, quiet, perfect. 
“I want to marry you,” he murmurs.
Silence. His stomach drops. 
Marc’s inhale catches in the back of his throat, halfway to a snore, and Valentino laughs, gentle so he doesn’t wake him. He plucks the coffee cup, dangling precariously, from slack fingers, and places it on the side table. 
——
iii.
They’ve created a routine over the past few months.
(Valentino’s stomach jumps every time he thinks about it, thinks about how they’re falling into habits, into familiarity. Every time, he smiles.) 
It’s their last day together for a while: Marc is leaving later, and Valentino flies early in the morning to get to his GT race. But the routine doesn’t change. He’s making lunch for them. Marc is upstairs—his phone had rung, insistent, and he’d groaned but pulled away, leaving Valentino to chop the rest of their salad. 
Marc emerges after nearly twenty-five minutes, eyebrows pinched together, but accepts the plate Valentino slides towards him with a distracted smile.
“Everything okay?” Valentino asks.
“Ah, my accountant.” Marc scowls. “Apparently I am spending too much time in Italy.” 
Valentino can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of his chest. 
“It’s not funny,” Marc says, almost whines. “It’s a tax thing. Between all the time I spend here, and time at the factory—not enough in Spain, apparently.”
Shrugging, Valentino taps one finger on the table. “We could get married.” 
Marc snorts. “Would that help?”
“I don’t know. I am very bad to ask about tax advice, remember?”
“Me too.” Marc stabs a piece of his salad—viciously, in Valentino’s opinion. 
“Don’t frown. It will be okay.”
“I can hide here. It is difficult for you to be in Madrid.”
“It will be okay,” Valentino repeats. “And remember, we can always get married.”
He thinks he deserves it when Marc throws a slice of bread at him. 
——
iv.
Clouds hang heavy on the mountains in Spielberg, threatening rain but holding off for now. Valentino leaves Luca with a last pat on the shoulder, weaving his way up the grid towards Franky’s starting spot.
It’s slow going, stopped every few steps, shaking hands with people he recognises, people he doesn’t.
“Valentino—Valentino!”
It’s Laverty, and Valentino doesn’t mind that because he doesn’t tend to ask stupid questions. He indulges the interview, long past acceptance of the fact that he built his own mythos and will never be left alone for the rest of his life. Yes, he’s doing well, thank you. Yes, it’s nice to be on the grid. Yes, he’s proud of his boys. Yes, he’s still enjoying racing with BMW. 
“And a final question,” Michael says. “You seem like you and Marc Márquez have finally buried the hatchet. Is everything put to bed? How did you manage it?”
Maybe Michael Laverty does ask stupid questions. 
Perhaps he should have been expecting it, because clasping hands before a race, sharing a smile under the podium—people notice. Especially when the norm used to be nothing at all, or worse.
“Ah, you know.” He has plenty of shields for the media, and it’s no problem to pull out an old favourite. “We talked. Dinner with candles. It is all going very well. Maybe soon we get married.” 
Michael laughs, loud and boisterous, like Vale hasn’t just wrapped up the truth in a pretty package and presented it as a joke. He smiles, camera-easy, and returns Michael’s ciao. 
It’s only when he turns around that he realises Álex and Bez, lined up side-by-side on the grid, are staring at him. 
——
v. 
Misano is hot, sweltering August-end heat. Valentino is sweating under his cap and sunglasses, pressed in a red throng of Ducati engineers. One-two. Red on red. 
It’s Marc who’d won, victorious in the battle of weaving-turning-diving along long straights and through heavy-brake corners. Pecco had given him a good fight, an Italian classic of a race; he’s smiling at Marc, learning to enjoy the scrappy thrill of battle as well as the ease of a flawless win. 
Marc’s shining, beaming at his team, smiling down the cameras, alive under the sun. Valentino swallows down the urge to kiss him, if only because their comms officers would kill them both. 
The podium has never seemed so long. Media obligations have never seemed so long. It’s an age before they’re alone, motorhome door locked, and Valentino has Marc, to himself, finally.
He used to think Marc was too much for him, in danger of eclipsing him, their implosion inevitable as two brilliant stars orbited closer, closer, too close. Too much light for the world to handle.
If he met that version of himself now, Valentino thinks he would shake him. 
Marc glows, yes, but there’s a brightness that only Valentino gets to see, one that erupts out in starbursts of ecstasy when they’re together, when Valentino is pushing inside him, when Marc is staring up at him like there’s nothing else in the world. 
Valentino stops, earning a petulant glare; even that’s breathtaking. How—how—he can’t find the words.
“I think,” Valentino forces out, elbows taking his weight, “I want to marry you.”
Marc blinks, face suddenly cutting, incredulous. “You are telling me this now?” He’s a livewire, crackling with sparks, hot with triumph, shooting static through Valentino’s skin. He’s beautiful. Valentino wants to see this for the rest of his life, so yeah, he’s saying it now. 
He tilts his hips, and the disbelief is gone, washed away as Marc gasps. It’s something like reverence now—but not how it used to be. Nothing that Valentino could shatter this time, even though he still wants to hold it close. 
Contrary as always, Marc winds fingers through his hair, pulls him down for a breathless kiss—and Valentino smiles into it, because he can do this, he can have this effect on Marc, still. Still. 
“Vale—” 
He’s helpless when it’s Marc. Still. Always. 
When they’re finished, when they’re lying curled into each other, Valentino breathing heavy into Marc’s hair, Marc looks up, eyes narrowed. 
“You did well today,” Valentino tells him softly, and the hard expression is gone once again, replaced with a different kind of wonder. 
“Did you mean it?”
He knows what Marc means. “Yes.”
Marc nods. “Ask me again. Another time.”
It’s—Valentino smiles again. “That was not a no.” 
——
+1 
It’s not a bad crash—it’s not, not by the metrics of this sport, not compared to what it could have been, what it has been in the past. 
It’s not bad, but it could have been: Marc, bumped wide by Acosta, unable to save it, sliding helplessly through the corner apex—and Bez, unsighted, trying to avoid the recovering KTM, sailing past his braking point towards Marc, and almost—almost. 
It’s not bad, but it was close, and when Marc is back in the paddock, when he’s speaking to cameras, when he’s with his engineers, there’s something wild about him, something faraway sitting behind his eyes, and Valentino knows. He knows.  
(He still dreams, sometimes, of Austria; not of the crash, but the feeling of it, the prickle at the back of his skull, the cold finger-brush of something not right. The almost that he didn’t see coming.) 
So he waits. Marc is settled enough, trusts him enough, to reach for him when he needs him. Valentino trusts Marc enough to let him. 
The knock on his motorhome door comes long after the chequered flag has fallen. Valentino doesn’t get up, knows Marc will let himself in.
“Sorry. Pedro wanted to talk—I am not angry, but good he apologised.”
“That’s okay,” Valentino says, gentle. 
Marc drifts, loose, unmoored, towards the sofa, folds his legs underneath him, presses into Valentino’s space. Valentino lets him, waits for him to speak.
Marc is shaking. Not a lot, just enough for Valentino to notice when he takes his hand.
“Okay?”
He’s not, of course he’s not, but it’s a door nudged ajar, an opening if Marc wants to take it.
“That was—close.”
“Yeah.”
“I was—watching the bike.” Marc swallows. “Just—that was all I could do. Watch it coming towards me.” 
Valentino pulls their joined hands up, presses a kiss to the back of Marc’s. 
Marc’s next exhale trembles in the space between them. 
“You’re okay.” 
“If Bez didn’t turn—” 
If. Almost. “You’re okay,” Valentino says again, because he needs to hear it himself. Marc’s fingers clench in his. “Okay? Look, you are holding my hand. You’re okay.”
It won’t be long before Marc is through this, before he’s smiling, before he’s raring to climb on his bike again. Not yet, though. Valentino knows—he knows.
“We should get married,” Marc says abruptly.
“I have been saying—”
“Seriously.”
Valentino takes him in: pinched eyebrows; hair flattened from his Ducati cap; pursed lips. “I think I am offended, that you only ask me after today.”
Marc pulls his hand away, the laugh jolting out of him. “Valentino—”
“And you are asking me in a motorhome—really, I would have taken my hoodie off at least—”
“Vale,” Marc groans, but he’s there, he’s smiling, he’s back. 
He can’t stop a smile twitching the corners of his lips in return. “Yes?” 
“That was not a no.” 
Valentino takes his hand again.
148 notes · View notes
olsenmyolsen · 1 month
Note
Hey sorry you are ill at the moment, you mentioned requests being open. So if I may
May a request an wanda one shot where both wanda and yn are crushing in each other but both too scared to admit. Pietro is yns friend and takes her out to crazy golf or something to unwind (nothing alcohol related please) . But maybe pietro causes trouble and they end up arrested. Which stresses yn out as she's never been arrested and is scared and paranoid.
Anyway she uses her call to call wanda (much to pietro's displeasure) and she storms in to get them out (def calming down yn and giving her a hug when she sees her in jail and after she gets her out) . (Wanda def makes sure any record of yn getting arrested is gone with her powers) .
Wanda being utterly pissed at pietro, maybe they argue in sokovian and maybe pietro says something (def about them being idiots who won't admit they like each other or something along the lines) and he speeds away and it ends with Wanda being the one to confess and ask yn out.
I know this might seem a bit much or too detailed but let me know what you think :)
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You Have The Right To Remain Silent
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(I feel like I might start writing Pietro a lot more now)
master list . maroon master list . dark master list
Post AoU (Female Reader X Wanda Maximoff)
Summary: Pietro takes you out and tries to get you to admit your feelings about Wanda. Simple, right? So why are you making a phone call from a county jail?
Word Count: 3.2K
Content: Pietro is a great friend/menace, Emo Wanda, Cuteness
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To say Wanda Maximoff was mad would be THE understatement.
Not only was she mad, she was pissed, enraged, furious, embarrassed, she was- you get it. So, as Wanda grabs her red jacket and storms down to the Avenger's garage, she can't help but replay the most recent call with You repeatedly.
In fairness, you did only have one phone call, at least, according to the cop who arrested Wanda's brother and You.
But let's back it up a bit to this morning when all Pietro wanted to do was take you out. Have a bit of one-on-one hang-out time. You were, after all, his most recent best friend since moving to America and joining the Avengers.
"Y/n, come on, get up!" You were slowly but abruptly being shaken away by your silver-haired friend. You lift your tired arms and push him away. "No, I love sleep!" You cry out why, doing your best to keep your eyes shut, but within a flash, Pietro has lifted your window blinds, making the early morning sunshine right onto you.
Damn, Stark, for putting you in the east corner of the compound.
So, with a loud groan into your pillow, you blink open your eyes to see Pietro smugly smiling. "Hi!" He waved.
What a menace.
You closed your eyes and sighed loudly. But sure enough, about twenty minutes later, you were dressed comfortably in your favorite pair of jeans and a light hoodie. It was about halfway through autumn, so the choice was perfect for the season and for whatever outdoor activity Pietro wanted to drag you to.
As of late, he was known to pull something like this. About two weeks ago, it was Basketball. A month prior, it was Pickleball.
Etc etc.
And you weren't sure if it was meant to happen or not, but the conversations always seemed to steer back to fellow teammate Pietro's sister and your crush, Wanda Maximoff.
And not that Pietro knew. At least you didn't think so...
(He knew.)
Regardless, you stumbled into the Avenger's kitchen and- "Hey, Y/n!" You jolt your head up from the floor of the compound at the accented angelic voice of Wanda. She's standing by the stove making pancakes. She's dressed in her usual wear of black skirts and cardigans. Necklaces hanging from her. Wanda's nails have some of the black polish removed, and her fingers are still wearing rings. Some of the last things from first home...
Sokovia.
Wanda keeps her eyes on you as you smile to see her. Hoping your cheeks don't light up. "Hi, Wanda!" You finally manage to say. She loves the sound of your voice, too. Even when it's all wavered. "You heading out?" Wanda says as you walk further into the kitchen. Heading to the fridge because you're on autopilot.
You look down at your outfit of choice. "Uh yeah, Pietro wanted to do something." Wanda makes anah noise and turns back to the pancakes. "You like blueberries, right?"
Wanda knew you did.
"Yeah." You reply after retrieving a glass of orange juice, making Wanda nod and not so subtly begin making a blueberry pancake. You turned your head away at the feeling of the warmth in your cheeks and sat at the kitchen island.
You felt the need to say something to Wanda. Ask her how she slept. Or what she was doing today. Or if she watched any of the old sitcoms you used to watch after school. But nothing was firing in your brain as you watched her glide through the kitchen.
You were starting to wonder if she didn't have her abilities, what would Wanda do? Chef? Ballet? Actress?
Wanda laughed while flipping over your two pancakes onto a plate. The noise made you raise your eyebrows and look at her with an acute smile. "What's funny?" You asked, but Wanda shook her head. "Just thought about something." She meekly replied with her green eyes, making her red cheeks and freckles pop slightly more. "Here." She then said as she laid down the food in front of you. Her powers setting down the syrup next to you.
You smiled and felt your heart flutter. "You get first dibs." Wanda smiled back. "Wow... Wanda, this looks-"
"Ah, there you are!!" Pietro rushed into the kitchen, making the two of you startle, and dropped your silverware onto the plate. "Jesus!" You yell out while Wanda takes the dish towel next to her and throws it at her brother. "Stop doing that!" She yells, making Pietro roll his eyes. "But you always say that!" Wanda lets out a large sigh and glares at him before turning back to the stove to keep working on breakfast for the rest of the team.
Effectively ending your moment with Wanda.
You pick back up your fork and knife and begin to dig into your specially made pancakes while Pietro tries to apologize to his sister to get her to make him chocolate pancakes, but she refuses and then says: "Only Y/n gets the special treatment!"
You froze, but Pietro smirked and looked at Wanda before communicating with her in Sokovian. A language you wish you could understand. Maybe in time... However, what Pietro said ended up with her yelling something back while trying her best to hide her smile.
Pietro called her out, and thus, a chocolate pancake was laid in front of him minutes later. But leaving food around him doesn't last long, so as much as you wanted to talk to Wanda some more and be terrible at flirting, you were being whisked away for a day with Pietro.
Not before waving bye to Wanda.
"Axe throwing?" You asked Pietro as the two of you walked up to the building after a 30-minute drive. "Not just axe throwing!" You tilted your head and followed the speedster inside.
Pietro took you to the newest evolution in the craze. Inside was your typical kind of place for this activity, but instead of standard sections, this place also had a glow-in-the-dark area and a gamified version where you had to play/win specific challenges for tickets for prizes.
You looked at your friend and saw his smile on his face.
Sometimes, you remind yourself that this is still the same person who lost everything months ago. And here he is with a wide smile.
Also, how in the world did he find out they opened at 10 am was beyond you. It just didn't make sense... But it's a tale, so after ordering some water and snacks, the first axe hit the board.
"No, fair, you're super strong!" Pietro was already whining.  You playfully rolled your eyes and grabbed your axe. "Yes, but that and my impenetrable skin don't make me super accurate. I'm not Hawkeye." You say with a little laugh. "Ah, right, the old man," Pietro replied, lifting the axe above his head. You smiled. "I'm so telling him you said that." You say as Pietro's axe lands slightly to the right of the bullseye.
Pietro retrieves it and laughs back before asking you about Natasha Romanoff, aka The Black Widow.
You tried your best to talk him out of asking her, but it didn't work. However, when he got knocked across the gym three weeks from now, you were there to say, "I told you so."
"Bullseye!" You cheered as your axe landed dead center. Pietro watched you walk to grab it with a smile before he did his best to shift the conversation to the real reason for today's adventure. "So Y/n..."
"So Pietro..." You said, copying his tone as he threw his axe. "You and my sister seemed to be getting along..." You tilted your head slightly. "Yeah... so?"
Pietro's axe landed a little below the target. Pietro looked at it before turning to you. "Pietro..." You said as the man stared at you. "Y/n, come on." Pietro grabbed his axe. "Just admit you like my sestra!"
"Pietro!" You raised your voice at his accurate assumption. "She likes you too!" He kept his voice level with yours. "You're too dumb or chicken to do anything about it!" You shook your head. "No. We're just friends!"
Yes, you had a crush on Wanda. Because, of course, you did, but when it came to admitting it to Pietro, you denied, denied, denied.
One, because you'd never hear the end of it.
Two, you didn't want to jeopardize anything between you and Wanda.
And three, could Wanda actually like you back??
"She made you special pancakes! You heard her. No one, but you gets them!" Pietro argues loudly, making one of the few other people in the establishment look over towards the two of you. "Pietro, shh." You say while gesturing with your head to the person, but Pietro isn't bothered by that. Too busy asking you about your crush. "That means something!"
"No, it means nothing." You argue back hoping this would be like any other time Pietro brought up this conversation and have it end reasonably quick. So, as you badly threw your axe at the wall, Pietro stood up.
"So if you think everything between you and my sestra means nothing then that must mean you don't like her."
You picked your axe from the floor. "What?" You replied, standing in the narrow space. "I didn't say that!" A customer looks over at you two. So does an employee. "So there is something?!" Pietro grins as he lets go of the axe right next to you, as you haven't gotten out of the way yet. "Pietro!" You scream even if the axe wouldn't have done anything to your body, thanks to your abilities.
An employee calls a manager over to them to watch you and Pietro.
"Just admit it: you like my sestra!" You huff, but before you can say anything else, he uses his super speed to grab the axe from the board and swing it back at you again. "Say it!" He calls out as it feels like you got a new haircut.
Luckily, nothing was trimmed.
"Yes, I like Wanda-" Pietro goes to interrupt you, but you cut him. "As a friend!" Pietro rolls his eyes and goes to use his powers again, but a man in a blue polo shirt stops him as Pietro raises his axe.
The two of you turn your eyes to the stranger—a manager.
"Hey! You are breaking some rules here and causing a disturbance. Why don't you two come with me!" Pietro looks at you and returns his eyes to the man with the name tag, 'Micheal.' "No, we're cool. It's okay."
You sigh, closing your eyes, knowing that's NOT what you're supposed to say. You move up.
"Hey. I'm sorry, my friend here is a little... much, but I-" You get cut off by the manager. "Doesn't matter what you're about to say. You two have been loud and reckless. Not to mention you're mutants." The man adds that last part in like you wouldn't heat him.
Pietro looks from you to the man. "Excuse me?"
"Pietro, let's just leave." You say, moving your eyes to Wanda's brother. But Pietro tightens his jaw. He brought you to this place to have fun and to finally have you admit that you are head over heels for Wanda. He also wants to spend time with his friend. He's tired of people telling him what to do or not do.
So, in a lapse of better judgment, Pietro uses his super speed and, thus leading to the two of you pinned to a cop car while Peitro wears Micheals's name tag as paramedics look over the man in the polo with a bloody nose. "I didn't push him that hard," Pietro comments, making you huff as a cop tightens the cuffs on the two of you.
"You both have the right to remain silent..." The mustache'd cop behind you starts going over your Miranda Rights as you close your eyes and let the world fall to a hum around you.
What the fuck were you going to tell Wanda...
The cell door at the sheriff's station closes behind you as you and Pietro walk inside. "I still think we could've gotten away. I'm super fast." You throw your arms up and let them fall against your side. "And then what Pietro? My car would still be at the place, and they'd track the registration to the compound. Could you imagine two cops knocking on the Avengers doors!?"
Pietro noticed your voice. You're frustrated and exhausted. Uneasy as your anxiety courses through you.
Pietro looks away.
The last time you were arrested was before you joined the Avengers... Those memories are seconds away from coming back.
After a few quiet moments, you take a seat on the cold bench next to your friend. Pietro hears the deep exhale come out of you. "I'm sorry." He calmly speaks up, making you look at him. "I shouldn't have engaged or acted out." You nod. "Why did you?" You ask. Pietro shrugs but looks at you. "I was more than okay leaving, but then he said... that word a-and it made me think back to Hydra. You know they weren't exactly known for being the nicest people..." He jokes with a slight smile but is still solum with his words. "Plus, I guess. I guess I really just wanted today to be the day." Pietro looks at you, and you know what he means.
"I do like her. A lot." You speak up. Pietro smiles. "Oh god, what are we going to tell her?" You say as you lean back against the grey wall.
"Tell her?" Pietro says, making you glance at him. "We can't do that." You widen your eyes. "Are you kidding me? That's exactly what we're going to do!" You say back.
"She'll kill me!" Pietro jokingly looks scared.
"Pietro, you're lucky I haven't killed you! Besides, we're calling Wanda. I'm not about to have Cap come down here and treat us like we're children. I am not about to have Natasha scold us and make our weekly gym sessions increase. I'm calling Wanda!"
Pietro knew this was the only option as everyone else was too busy or off-world. But he still argued and pleaded. But he relented when he saw you start to shake from your nerves.
Ten minutes later, you walked back into the cell, and an officer closed it behind you.
"I think she's mad." You said. Knowing his twin, Pietro knew that if you thought Wanda was mad. Gear up because she was past mad. Pietro sighed and stood up, needing to stretch his legs. "Did you tell her it was my fault like I asked?" You nodded. "But then Wanda asked me how come I was arrested as well. I froze. I told her I pushed the man back when he tried to push me but couldn't." Pietro laughed through his nose. "Your super strength and impenetrable skin will always amaze me."
"Yeah..." You sigh. "Too bad it won't make me Wanda like me again after this." Pietro watches you sit on the bench. "I'll talk to her," Pietro affirms you, but you don't know if you want him to talk to the witch or not. But before you can say anything, you hear muffled, loud yelling coming from outside the double doors down the hall. "How did she get here already?!" Pietro asks because it makes no sense. You shake your head and shrug before the doors down the hall open, and Wanda's black boots hit the white tile floor with force.
The officer with Wanda opens the cell door without a word to either of you. When you look at his eyes, you see how red they are.
Pietro looks to you and gulps.
"Sestra-" Wanda raises her hand to Pietro. "I don't want to hear it. Let's go." Wanda starts to walk away, and as much as you shouldn't, you do, in fact, look up and down her backside. Your crush on her and her demeanor towards you in this moment makes something click inside you. Fuck.
As the three of you exit into the station lobby, you realize that everyone in the building is under Wanda's control. You glance at a monitor and watch as a red-eyed officer deletes your and Pietro's files. You look back to Wanda, who pierces you with her green eyes. A smile wants to break out on her lips, but she remains stern as she gestures for you two to pick up your belongings at the front desk. You nod, and you and Pietro grab your things—one of them including your car keys for your impounded car.
"It's out front," Wanda speaks up before you send her a gracious smile. She sees it but doesn't return one as she leads the three of you outside. Her red car is parked next to your older vehicle.
"Pietro in the car," Wanda commands her brother, who does so without wanting to be under her power. As she stops in front of her driver's side door, Wanda looks to you. She opens it before closing it and walking over to you. Her green eyes looking at yours, getting softer by the second. She then surprises you with the most Wanda thing ever. She wraps her arms tightly around you and hugs you. "It's okay." She whispers to you as you feel yourself melt into the embrace. "Wanda, I'm sorry." You feel the need to say back, but Wanda shakes her head and pulls back. "Y/n, the only thing you need to be sorry for is your choice of friends." You can't help but laugh as you wipe the corner of your eye. The last thing you needed to do was cry.
Wanda moves her hands and fingers covered in rings up and down your arms to comfort you. "Pietros has already taken the blame again and again," Wanda says, confusing you until she points to her head. "Right." You nod. Wanda smiles. "A lot of yelling in Sokovian." Wanda drags her hands down and off of your arm. You already feel the loss of her touch, but look at her eyes as they find yours. "Do you think we could talk later? After we get back to the compound?" She asks, and you feel your throat grow tighter. "Not about this!" Wanda quickly corrects your thoughts as she points to the sheriff's office. "It's just Pietro called me an idiot, and it has something to do with you."
"With me?" You find yourself questioning even though you one hundred percent know what she's getting at it. Wanda nods as a shy blush appears on her face. Wanda looks back to the car before turning to look at you. She bites her lip. "I like you. A lot." Wanda confesses after a brief moment.
You can't help but smile wide.
You nod. "I like you a lot too, Wanda." Wanda feels her heart grow warm as she hears your words. "So yeah, we can talk later?" She says, making you chuckle. "I'll see you at the compound." You reply back.
Who would've thought that to get your crush, all you had to do was get arrested?
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dividers by @/benkeibear
205 notes · View notes
sunny44 · 1 month
Text
The breaking point
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Teammate!reader
Warnings: arguments, crying and maybe other things
Summary: Max and Y/n, longtime teammates with a complicated relationship, find themselves in the midst of a heated argument that pushes their bond to its breaking point. As emotions run high, Max says things that he shouldn’t leading him to hurt the only person that matters to him.
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I’ve known Y/n for years, and from the very beginning, our relationship was anything but simple. On the track, we were the perfect team, almost like we were made for each other. We pushed each other to the edge, always trying to be faster, stronger, better. But off the track, things were different. At the start it was just us not liking each other and then as time passes I started to like her, and as moras time passed I started to feel different e about her. When she was away from me I wanted her close and when she was with me I wanted her closer.
And after that I realized that I was in love with her, but there was always this tension between us, like an invisible wire pulled tight, just waiting to snap.
Today, that wire snapped.
It all started in the paddock. We were in the middle of discussing strategy, something that should have been routine. But for some reason, things escalated. Maybe it was the stress of the season, the constant pressure to perform, the fact that from being the top team and always winning races we were in fifth and sixth place in the last few races, or maybe we were just tired. But whatever it was, it made us both say things we shouldn’t have.
“I’m sick of you always blaming me, Max!” Y/n’s voice was sharp, cutting through the noise of the garage like a knife. She stepped closer, her eyes blazing, and I could see the anger in her eyes, the frustration that had been building for who knows how long. “I’m not the one that made the car a piece of shit in this last few races.”
I should have backed off. I should have taken a breath and calmed down because deep down I Ken I would snap at her even if I didn’t wanted to. But instead, I let my own anger take over.
“And I’m fucking sick of you and your bullshit! I wish I never met you!” The words flew out of my mouth before I even realized what I was saying. As soon as they left my lips, I knew I’d crossed a line. A line we’d never crossed before.
The moment the words were out there, I wished I could take them back. It wasn’t true—none of it was true. But the damage was done. Y/n’s face went pale, and I saw the shock in her eyes, like I’d just slapped her across the face.
She stood there, frozen, her chest heaving as she tried to process what I’d just said. I’ve seen her angry, frustrated, even upset, but I’ve never seen her like this—completely stunned, like I’d just ripped her heart out and crushed it.
When she finally spoke, her voice was so soft I almost didn’t hear her.
“Is that really how you feel?” Her voice trembled, and for the first time, I saw something I never thought I’d see—tears in her eyes.
My stomach twisted into knots. I wanted to tell her no, that I didn’t mean it, that it was just the heat of the moment and that I loved her. But my throat felt tight, like I couldn’t get the words out. All I could do was stare at her, my mind racing, trying to figure out how to fix this.
Y/n blinked, and a tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it. She quickly looked down, avoiding my gaze, and I could see her fighting to keep it together. She was the strongest person I knew—nothing ever got to her, and she never let anyone see her cry. But now, because of me, she was on the verge of breaking.
I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. Why did I say that? Why did I let my anger get the best of me? I knew how much she meant to me, how much I needed her, and yet I still said something so cruel, something I didn’t even mean.
When she finally looked up at me, her eyes were filled with hurt, and it cut me deeper than anything else.
“I never thought… you of all people would say that to me.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but the pain in it was deafening. “I knew you didn’t like me but that was cruel, even for you.”
I tried to move closer, to say something, anything, that would make it right.
“Y/n, I didn’t mean it.” I said, but my voice sounded weak, even to my own ears. I reached out toward her, but she pulled away, putting more distance between us. It was like a punch to the gut.
“Don’t.” she said, her voice sharp, cutting through me like glass. “Just… don’t.”
She turned away, her shoulders hunched as if she was carrying the weight of the world. She started walking toward the dressing room, her steps quick and determined, like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Panic rose in my chest. I couldn’t let her leave like this, not when she didn’t know the truth.
“Fuck… No! Y/n, wait!” I called after her, my voice cracking with desperation. I started running after her, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed her to understand that I didn’t mean what I said. I couldn’t lose her—not like this.
She didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down. She was almost at the door when I finally caught up to her. I reached out, my hand brushing against her arm, but she jerked away from me like I’d burned her.
“Please, Y/n, just listen to me.” I begged, my voice breaking. I could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but I fought them back. She needed to know how much she meant to me, how much I regretted what I’d said.
Y/n paused, her hand resting on the door handle, but she didn’t turn around.
“Why, Max? Why should I listen to you? So you can hurt me even more?” Her voice was so quiet, so filled with pain, that it made my chest ache.
“I didn’t mean it.” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “I was angry, and I said something stupid. I don’t wish I never met you—I could never wish that. You mean too much to me, Y/n. More than you could ever know.”
There was a long silence. I could see her shoulders shaking slightly, and I knew she was trying not to cry. It was killing me to see her like this, knowing I was the reason for her pain.
Finally, she let out a shaky breath, her voice barely audible.
“I never thought you’d hurt me like this, Max.” She turned to face me, and the look in her eyes nearly broke me. She looked so small, so vulnerable, and it was all my fault.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” I said, my voice trembling. “I’ll do anything to make it right. Please, just give me a chance.”
She looked down at the floor, her expression conflicted.
“I need time,” she said eventually, her voice tinged with exhaustion. “I just… I need to think.”
I nodded, even though the thought of being apart from her, even for a little while, made my chest tighten with fear.
“Take all the time you need,” I said softly. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
Y/n nodded, then turned and walked through the door, leaving me standing there alone in the corridor. I stared at the closed door for what felt like an eternity, my heart heavy with regret.
As I finally turned to walk away, I made a silent promise to myself. I would find a way to make this right, no matter what it took. Because Y/n wasn’t just my teammate—she was the one person in the world I couldn’t imagine living without.
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Bonus scene!
Y/nusername instagram stories
“Rewatching old races, getting pretty and working”
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This will have a part 2, if you want to be tagged let me know in the comments
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pookietv · 5 months
Text
denial | george clarke
just a little fluffy george clarke drabble about him being ill
very drunk at posting, re-reading it's probably a little cringe
love u all <3
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you loved george, you really did.
but when he was sick? he was infuriating, to say the least.
at first, he'd be in complete denial.
when you come round to his house after a day at work, slipping your shoes off at the door and saying hello to whoever was in the kitchen before making your way to his room, knocking gently on the door before walking in, and you see george curled in his bed, his skin damp from sweats, his duvet discarded and him left in only his boxers with a dumbly weak smile, you of course know he is ill.
"you didn't tell me you weren't feeling well," you said softly, sitting on the edge of his bed, not wanting to disturb him as he practically used all his energy to shake his head slightly.
"'m not ill, just woke up from a nap, that's all," he denied, and you rolled your eyes slightly at him. you could tell by his slightly raspy voice he wasn't well, if the sight in front of you wasn't enough. it was a little attractive, and you felt slightly weird finding your deathly looking boyfriend's sick voice hot.
"george, you're sweating,"
"it's warm in here, aren't you warm?" he babbled out, and you shook your head slightly at him.
"it's winter, it's bloody freezing. you don't need to pretend you're not sick, you idiot," you gently teased, and he groaned a little.
"i'm gonna go get you some water, do you want some paracetamol as well or anything?" you asked tenderly, and he pretty much ignored the question.
"didn't know you were coming round tonight," he said, and you shrugged.
"just felt like something might have been up, you've been sleeping the days away the past couple of days," you explained, and he shrugged back.
"just tired, thats all," he tried to lie through his teeth, but you just shook your head again.
"have you eaten yet today?" you asked, and george's head flopping back into the pillow told you all you needed to know.
you laughed a little, though endearingly, at him, "right, so what do you think you can stomach? chicken noodles? toast?"
"you don't need to make me anything, just stay here," he murmured as his hand loosely wrapped around your waist, in a feeble attempt to drag you into his bed, but you just laughed a little more, gently removing his arm.
"george," you insisted again, and he looked up at you almost guiltily.
"fine, i'll eat some toast if you'll stop worrying," he said quietly, and you nodded, pushing yourself back up to standing from his bed.
you had practically lived in the boys flat for a while now, so went to the kitchen and made some toast, along with grabbing some paracetamol and pouring a glass of water whilst waiting for the kettle to boil, thinking some tea might do him some good.
when you returned to the bedroom, he was sat up slightly in his bed, and you passed him the plate, two buttered slices of toast resting on it as you placed the paracetamol, tea and waterbottle on his bedside table.
"will you come sit down now?" george asked, and you giggled a little.
"you're very clingy when you're ill," you teased, "let me clean up some of the washing for you, and open the window, just to sort your room out a little and then i'll come," you said, hearing a slight groan of protest from george again.
"you don't need to clean my room, i'll sort it," he murmured, but you just rolled your eyes once more.
"you look like you'd pass out if you even stood up right now," you teased.
whilst you were picking up the crumpled clothes from the floor, damp with sweat, you could hear the occasional crunch of toast and you could feel his eyes on you, impatiently waiting for you to finish.
once you were done, you sat next to him, as he placed his half eaten toast on his bedside table and practically curled next to you, his arm wrapping lazily around your side and his head leaning against you.
you gently pushed the small amount of hair from his forehead, which had been practically stuck down with sweat.
"if you're still tired, you can go back to sleep, you don't have to stay awake for me," you reassured, but he just murmured out, "haven't seen you in a while, don't want you to be bored,"
"don't worry, i won't be bored. i might even nap with you," you laughed a little, and he practically pulled you down with his weight in a laying position, making you laugh a bit more.
"okay, a nap with you does sound good."
"let me just put on one of your shirts, okay? been in my work clothes far too long, and they're not the most comfy to sleep in," you explained, quickly walking to his dresser and getting changed, swapping your knit jumper for his shirt, and your pants for a pair of his boxers, george once again just watching as you did so.
"if i wasn't so ill i'd be so horny right now," he joked as you changed in front of him.
you grinned a little at his horny teenage boy esque mind, "so you admit you're ill?" you teased, and he rolled his eyes in return.
"i might be a little bit ill."
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jji-lee · 5 months
Note
HEY HOW ARE YOU, HOPE YOU'RE DOING GREAT, WONDERING IF YOU COULD DO SOMETHING LIKE Y/N AND JENO GOT INTO A VERY SERIOUS ARGUMENT
HI!! i’m doing great, sorry for the late reply i am on vacation! kinda inspired by jim and pam’s valentine’s day fight from the office (if you’ve seen it) it’s not so much an argument because i’m bad at dialogue but it’s a little couples spat. hope you enjoy anyways! ☺
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it had been tense since jeno woke up that morning. it was valentines day and you wanted to make it special for him since the last one he had been on tour. you woke up early to make him his favorite breakfast, taking the time to cut out little hearts from all of the fruits. but of course your exhausted boyfriend had slept through breakfast, having had practice till late the night before. he had taken off from practice today to "spend time with you" but he had only been spending time with his bed. you cleaned up breakfast deciding that it wasn’t that big of a deal, you had the rest of the day planned anyways. when jeno had finally woken up you were getting ready to go on a bike ride with him, your go to date activity, but you were met with a groggy smile telling you, “not today baby hm? just a little tired, but i made us dinner plans at 7 today okay?” so you complied taking off your biking gear and heading to the living room to watch some tv. jeno came out lazily and laid on the couch next to you resting his head on your thighs. as 6 rolled around you decided to get ready for dinner looking through your closet for your new dress. you heard rustling in the bathroom assuming jeno was also getting ready. by 6:45 you were finished, stepping out of your room to show jeno your outfit. as you stepped out you were met with a very laid back boyfriend, wearing jogging pants and a hoodie, he looked up at you eyes widening when he saw your appearance, “shit baby is it 7 already? i totally blanked on dinner, i can get ready real quick and tell them we hit some traffic so they don’t charge us for being late.” he stood up quickly going to your shared room to get dressed, you stopped him. “forget it jen, i’m not even hungry, let’s stay home and do nothing like we’ve been doing all day” jeno stared at you, confused by your sudden attitude, “what do you mean ‘do nothing,’ i took the day off to be with you?” you let out a deep breath, “you didn’t take a day off to be with me you took a day off to catch up on your sleep jeno, don’t act like today’s been ALL about me” he tilted his head to the side staring at you bewildered, “is this about the biking? baby we bike every chance we get, we’ll do it next time i have free.” you pushed past him leaning on the couch for support as you took your heels off, “yes jeno, this is about the biking and breakfast and this stupid dinner that you planned and forgot about, i tried to make everything special for us today and you just slept through it all, i look like an idiot running around planning stuff for my boyfriend who doesn’t even care” he walked towards you grabbing your chin, “you think i don’t care? you think getting a last minute spot at your favorite restaurant is easy? you think being away from you everyday is easy?” your eyes began to water as he let go of your chin walking towards the door “i’m sorry for being tired today, it’s my first day off in months, you think i didn’t want today to be special too? i’m sorry okay? i feel like shit cause i ruined your valentine’s day.” you heard jeno's voice crack as he spoke, back turned towards you, “i just, i can’t keep going back and forth, not today, if we’re gonna keep fighting then i’ll just meet the guys at practice, tell them our plans got cancelled,” he slipped some shoes on, grabbing his coat to leave, you stopped him, hand grasping his shirt. “don’t leave please, stay, stay with me and fight, we’ll yell all night if we have to.” he stopped and turned to face you, “you really wanna fight on valentine’s day?” you gave him a soft smile, “yes, stay with me and fight, just, don’t go.” jeno wasn’t gonna leave, not even if you begged him.
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