#and of course everyone else is just WINNING at life or doing so much better than me and i’m so tired of it all
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
smallishzine · 1 day ago
Text
very important official zine stuff for real this time guys please spread this around
we realized we haven’t asked you what you want this zine to be, so here is poll with some different options for things we could do, but this still won’t set things in stone cause we’re aware that we’re working with a relatively small albeit amazing awesome and extremely appreciated audience, but it’ll give us a good idea for what direction you want the zine to go in.
some examples of what we mean for added coherence, please read before voting unless you wanna be like that guy in the Simpsons movie:
an eras tour zine (yes this is a Taylor swift joke shut up if you’re judging us you’re wrong) would be like different pieces dedicated to each, for lack of a better word, “thing” that Joel has done. @/inthelittlezine is a great example of this concept, except the mod has far better organizational skills than we ever could hope to
tourism brochure would be like we pick a specific thing Joel, such as esmp 1 or 2, or x life, or one of his hardcore/survival worlds (I haven’t listed Hermitcraft season 10 cause that’s still in progress but if you guys really really wanna, that too), and make an in universe guide to it expanding upon the lore and characters and builds and stuff. @/scarland-artbook is an amazing example of this, though of course we would be a much smaller scale of a project.
do you wanna tell a story? Or ride our bikes around the halls? We can’t help with the second one, we’re not very sporty people, but this option is both the most difficult and dangerous to the success of the zine, and the one that intrigues me specifically the most. Like, guys, I know I’m polling this, but I’m secretly hoping that this one wins. Like all the hoping. Ever. But I’m not gonna just say yeah let’s do this because if like only three people also wanna this zine will never get made and I will be really, really sad. This option is basically do we wanna take something Joel has done and work together to create an original universe/story based off of it, each contributing a small part of the story in comic or writing form. Unless you’ve been living under a rock and/or this post broke containment sorry if it did I assure I’m usually mostly sane, you probably know where I’m shamelessly stealing taking inspiration from. We heart you @/hotguycomiczine. If we went with this we would obviously create our own universe and storyline, and we’d try to base it off of one of Joel’s characters if possible. Also, if we went with this, we’d start the mod and application process and stuff and once we knew everyone who was going to be in the zine then we’d all get together and start working on the story, and this is the part I’m worried about because if we’re all stumped then I guess the zine is out of luck and I’d be sad. Also even if we did do this, like preemptively temper your expectations I am no where near as good as the legends at hotguycomiczine at organization and promotion and story writing and all that good stuff. However, if you have an idea for a story and want to share, send us an ask cause we might just end up using it.
I think the last two are mostly self explanatory.
please reblog for reach.
34 notes · View notes
lllostgirlll · 3 months ago
Text
gotta be honest my depression has only gotten worse and has not let up for like two months wow new record
8 notes · View notes
postracehair · 12 days ago
Text
a small request
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
max verstappen x reader | 2k
even world champions deserve love letters. after missing the mexico gp, you're determined to see max have a good weekend in brazil. maybe all it takes is a handwritten note.
cw: fem!reader, being in love, softness, a track-side kiss, love letters. and google translate, sorry to any dutch speakers.
a/n: was this inspired by that video from austin? yeah, it was! sue me! also, written/posted before the gp, so. no race details <3 xx
__
You miss race weekend in Mexico. It happens. You can't be there every weekend, much as you'd like to be. You're even more peeved about it after, considering you quite like Carlos and wish you had seen him earn what very well might be his last win with Ferrari. But you're mostly upset because Max, though he won't say so, could probably have used your support.
Years of experience have him calm, cool, and collected despite the team troubles. Flippant, some headlines say. Mad Max, others. But you know he's probably just tired. Tired of the media, of the FIA, of the churning conflict between him and Lando -- something you all knew was coming someday, but maybe not so suddenly. The longest season ever continues to drag and drag and drag.
"Twenty seconds was...Christ, Max," you say. You know what happened, of course. You watched what you could, saw the sharp moves around the corner and heard the radios. It never gets easier, watching him take risks like that. Usually, everyone else backs off, but McLaren can see victory on the horizon and won't let it go. You can't blame them, either of them, you just wish it was all a bit less tense.
"I know," he says, voice raspy over the connection. "I -- well, you know how I feel about it. Don't want to say anything in case the FIA is tapping my phone."
You laugh into your hand so you don't disturb the other people in the airline lounge, not entirely used to places like this, still. Max has told you over and over that it's absurd for you to spend your own money when you're coming to see him all over the world. When you told him you moved things around so you could come to Brazil, he booked you the nicest ticket, per usual.
"Oh, ha, ha," you say. "Don't give them any ideas, Mr. Community Service." You sigh. "Do you need anything? Be honest."
"Aren't you at the airport already? Your flight should be leaving in --" A pause, like he's checking his watch -- "forty minutes."
You glance up at the departures screen. He's right, but you don't give it to him so easily. "Know my schedule, do you?"
"Well, I booked your ticket, so I should think so."
"Your assistant booked it, you mean."
He hums and you picture him in his hotel room, maybe at the window, looking over the city. "I know your flight information. Don't be silly."
"I mean it, Max," you say again. "Is there anything I can do to make the weekend better?" It's a bit of a useless question and you expect him to answer with a snarky get me a new car or apply for the position of steward.
But he doesn't. He clears his throat.
"I'm just glad you're coming," he says, softly. "I've missed you."
You never doubt how Max feels about you, but he must be pretty tired to admit it like this. He's all about actions, this man. Making sure you have what you need when you're at the track, arranging your travel, remembering your schedule. He shows you how much you matter, and that's more than enough. He never wants to make you feel bad for having a life beyond being his girlfriend. And this doesn't, not really. It just makes you ache, fills your chest with the hopeless affection you've felt for him for so long.
"I've missed you, too," you reply. "But I'd like to be useful."
"Oh, I can think of a few things, then," Max says, all of a sudden all cheek. Such a boy, sometimes. A boy in love.
You can't help but laugh, face hot. "Hush, you!"
He huffs. A few beats of silence, the comfortable, well-worn kind. Sometimes, when he's halfway across the world and up late on the sim, he'll call you just to hear you breathe.
"Max?"
"I -- do you remember what you did for my birthday?"
He'd wanted something small, quiet. There was a lot of work to be done with the team but three weekends off meant you had a little time to yourselves. A few days hardly leaving his place, a dinner with some of the guys, a cake you made yourself, hand-delivered in bed. Gifts for a very wealthy man are difficult, especially since Max doesn't seem to want much.
"Oh, the pillow with my face on it?"
Max laughs. The lounge loudspeaker announces that your flight is going to board soon, so you gather your things but keep your phone wedged next to your ear.
"No, the other thing," he says. He clears his throat and summons some of that World Champion courage. "The letter."
You'd written him a fairly long love letter, thinking it would be a nice thing to carry to the races you couldn't be at this fall. It was tempting to be embarrassed about it when you gave it to him the morning of his birthday, but his cheeks had gone pink and he'd buried his face in your neck.
"Oh, that," you say. The airport is busier outside the lounge and you push your case in the direction of your gate weaving between. people.
"You could write me another, maybe."
Max is direct. He is honest, at work and at home, but this surprises you a little.
"You do know I'm about to get on a plane to see you, right?"
He huffs, and you imagine his cheeks pink, eyes bright. "You asked!"
"I'll write you another love letter, Max Verstappen," you assure him. "I'll write you a hundred."
"One is a fine start," he says firmly. "You should be boarding soon, and I've got to go to the press conference. Text me when you've landed?"
"Of course," you reply, eyes rolling though he can't see. "I'll see you soon, okay? Love you."
"Love you, liefje."
On the plane, you tear out some pages from your journal. You'd prefer to have some nice stationery like what you wrote on for his birthday, but maybe this is more romantic, more real. Making do with that you've got because he asked.
In the last one, you told him your memories of when you first met. How your stomach swooped when you made him laugh, how his blue eyes wouldn't leave your dreams. In this one you tell him about when you first realized you loved him. How absurdly early you were sure, how badly you wanted to tell him for weeks. The way you remember every second of when you blurted it out -- his face, his smile. His voice in your ear, telling you over and over, geliefde, ik houd van je, zo veel. I love you, so much.
"You're working hard on that," someone says. You look up at your seatmate, a woman a few decades older than you with a heavy accent.
You feel a little like you've been caught doing something illicit, but you just smile at her. "For my boyfriend," you tell her. "A love letter."
She flattens her palm over heart and sighs. "How lovely," she coos. "I hope he takes care of you, too."
We take care of each other, you want to say. You could tell her about how he sends you postcards from every country he goes to after you told him you like to put them on your fridge. You could tell her how sometimes you text him during his streams to make him laugh on camera. How he remembers your favorites, how he saves you his special team gear, how he sends you flowers all the time. How he likes to sit on the couch, your toes under his thigh, fingers around your ankle. How you've been learning Dutch and how he patiently corrects your pronunciation. You could go on and on and on.
"He does," you say instead.
__
The plane lands safely in Brazil, but the pilot tells you that there is no open gate and that you'll be sitting for a while. You text Max.
stuck on tarmac, will be later than expected! :(
He must be in media responsibilities still because he doesn't reply until you finally get off the plane.
go relax at the hotel. i'll see you for dinner!
You find your ride easy enough and take a deep breath. The letter you wrote on the plane feels heavy in your pocket, and you just want to see Max. To be near him again. To give him this small thing he asked for.
"Excuse me," you say to the driver. "Do you think we could go to the track, instead?"
You text Max's assistant to say you're headed there, hoping it's not too much of an inconvenience. You're told he's almost done, maybe an hour left, and when you arrive you're led to his driver rooms. His shit is everywhere, per usual. Max is quite neat except in here -- Carmen once told you that George is the same. Clothes strewn about, his race boots unlaced and left in the way, warm-up equipment in a pile. On the table are a few of his things -- his wallet, a notebook, some papers.
Wait a second. One of those papers looks...familiar. It's been folded in three, the envelope it came in nowhere to be seen. His name is scrawled on the blank side in your hand and when you tug it from the pile you can see that it's creased, the edges a little more worn than when you gave it to him a few months ago. Max Verstappen, three-time World Champion, actually carries around the love letter you wrote him. Brings it to the track. It's darling. You love him so much. You pull the new one from your pocket and set them side-by-side on the table where he'll find them.
You ask to be taken to the pit wall, please, so you can see whatever the drivers are doing on track. Some dedication, you're told. The timing ends up being perfect and you get there just as they're finishing. You lean on a gap in the barrier where, on Sunday, crew members will be holding timing signs as the drivers zip around the hot pavement. The crowd in the stands is loud, as always, and maybe you imagine it but it seems to get a little louder when you look out.
The guys are talking amongst themselves and a few of them wave at you. You spot Max as he turns away from Charles and you can't help but grin. His eyes meet yours under his cap and his entire face chances, softens, and he breaks into a jog. You lean out over the concrete ledge and meet him in a kiss that's more two smiles pressed together than anything else.
"This is a surprise," he says when he pulls away. Eyes sparkling, he shows no signs of rejoining the other drivers as they head to whatever their next thing is. Photos, probably.
"I missed you," you tell him. "I've left you something in your room."
"Oh?" He straightens the lanyard of your credentials with careful fingers.
You reach for him, palm on his cheek. His stubble tickles and he leans into it ever so slightly. It doesn't feel like there are thousands of eyes on you, not even a little.
"Yeah," you say. "As promised." Someone calls his name. "Go on, then. I'll be waiting."
He kisses you again, a quick brush of his lips on the corner of your mouth.
Later, you'll wake from your nap in the hotel room to those same kisses on your cheeks, your forehead. Max will gather you in his arms and tell you all the moments he almost told you he loved you, how he could hardly believe when you said it first. You'll tease him for how many times he's read that first letter and he'll cheekily say that's why he needs more. And you will write him more, you'll write him as many as he wants. As many as you can, for the rest of your lives.
But now, in front of thousands of screaming fans, he smiles at only you, boyish and pleased.
968 notes · View notes
satoruoo · 10 months ago
Text
currently thinking about basketballplayer!gojo
Tumblr media
basketballplayer!gojo who brings absolute carnage to the court. on top of being unfairly tall, he's quick-witted and aggressive. the worst kind of person to be your opposition.
basketballplayer!gojo who's eyes are always finding yours throughout a game, winking and blowing kisses without shame. seeing you smile and retaliate sets his heart ablaze in a way that he can't describe.
basketballplayer!gojo who's entire team knows you, and if he's ever having one of his little "missing his girl" episodes, one of them is already texting, begging you to come and fix him so he can play at his best.
basketballplayer!gojo who somehow convinces you to practice with him even though you know absolutely nothing about basketball. he's all soft when he plays with you, dramatically falling to the floor when you dribble past him. he lets you win because he can't get enough of the way your lips tip up into a smug grin. you're both aware you're doing absolutely shit, but that's not the point.
basketballplayer!gojo whose preparation for a game involves a good luck kiss from you to soothe any nerves that course through his veins as he steps onto the court. believe it or not, the pressure sometimes gets to him.
basketballplayer!gojo who gets pissed when he hears someone from the other team wolf whistle and make an inappropriate comment about you. his team pities their opponents because gojo does not allow them to catch a breath the entire game. it's point after point after point and geto swore he saw gojo give the guy a middle finger.
basketballplayer!gojo who blows a kiss to you when he scores then makes direct eye contact with the dude who made the comment as both a warning and a boast.
basketballplayer!gojo who makes it known to everyone in the stadium that his girlfriend is present in the stands, dedicating every point to you. it's a fact, the grass is green, the sky is blue and you are his just as he is yours.
basketballplayer!gojo who's looking for you the moment his team is announced as the winners, heart running laps when he spots you cheering and clapping. he celebrates with his team until you make it down from the stands, and then he runs to you and traps you in a hug that conveys both his thanks for coming to watch and the adrenaline of winning.
basketballplayer!gojo who spins you around three times with the brightest smile you've seen in your life when he wins.
basketballplayer!gojo who revels in the attention you give him post-game. he loves the way you'll offer him a massage, kneading his muscles with practiced ease that makes him feel so much lighter. you let him lean on you, head nuzzling into your stomach as you thread your fingers through his hair.
basketballplayer!gojo whose coach notices his sloppy shots one day and calls you, sighing to himself when he finds that gojo's state is due to an argument you had this morning.
basketballplayer!gojo who only perks back up when you drop by while the team is practicing and he's immediately clinging to you and apologizing like his life depends on it. then, he's back to normal. hell, he's even better.
basketballplayer!gojo whose team hopes you never break up because they fear what gojo will become.
basketballplayer!gojo whose top priorities are you and basketball. nothing else really matters in his eyes.
Tumblr media
tagging: @sad-darksoul
2K notes · View notes
pawnshopbleus · 1 year ago
Text
The Songbird
Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Plinth!Reader
Summary - Lucy Gray Baird was the talk of this year's Hunger Games. She had the beauty and the voice to charm her way through the games, but what happens when rumors spark up around the Capitol that her mentor and your boyfriend, Coriolanus Snow, have shared a kiss?
Warnings - Mild angst, Speculations of cheating, Smut (Coriolanus Snow eats you out), Bad communication, it gets sort of better at the ends so just trust me, Very mild Lucy Grey slander (Rachel Zegler they could never make me hate you.), let’s pretend that Snow has the capacity to love, Not beta read.
Tumblr media
Being a Plinth meant two things: people hated you because you paid your way to the top, and people loved you because you had enough money to do it. Getting used to life in the capital was hard, but it got easier when you had a boyfriend who cared for you. Your brother, Sejanus, disapproved of his best friend dating his twin sister, but the two of you could care less. 
You met Coriolanus at the Academy. You were charmed by his white hair and the way he carried himself. He also wasn’t as stuck up and snobby as your other classmates. He was easy to talk to and even easier on the eyes. He must have noticed the way you were entranced by him when he asked you out. After many dates and your father's approval, he asked you to be his girlfriend.
Now, you were sitting in the lunch room, picking at the sandwich that was in front of you. It was no secret that Coriolanus’s tribute was the favorite of the capitol. She was beautiful and swept everyone off of their feet with that sweet voice of hers. Your tribute on the other hand was nothing more than a throwaway tribute from District Nine. To be frank, he was short and skinny. There was nothing much you could do for him. Maybe he could be good at hiding, but he wouldn’t last long in the arena. 
“Are you going to eat?” Coriolanus asked as he eyed your sandwich. “You need to eat, dove.”
“I’m not hungry,” you grumbled as you took a sip of your water. 
“Can I have it then?”
You nod your head and hand him the sandwich. You watched as he put it in a napkin and placed it in his coat pocket. 
You tilted your head in confusion. Was he saving that for later? “Coryo, if you, Grandma'am, and Tigris need something to eat, you can come over. You know my home is always open to you and your family.” 
He smirked and shook his head. “No, I’m saving it for Lucy Gray.” 
“Oh.” That was all you could say. Of course, he was saving that for his Lucy Gray. Him feeding his tribute would fuel the rumors that Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray Baird were developing a budding relationship. People were already invested in them after his stunt at the Capitol Zoo. 
You grabbed your tray from the table and left without saying another word. You couldn’t find it in you to confront him about what people were saying. Maybe you were being a bad girlfriend, but your jealousy got the best of you.    As the sun set and the moon rose, you lie in your room, hoping that Lucy Gray wouldn’t accept the sandwich. You wanted her to throw it back at him, scaring him so much that he would never visit her again. But this isn’t about what you want. This is about Coriolanus and his mission to get his tribute to win. 
The next morning, you couldn’t eat. You were physically and mentally sick with jealousy. You were meant to meet with your tribute to discuss a game strategy. In your peripheral, you could see Coriolanus with Lucy Gray. He was so alert when he talked with her. He once talked to you like that, but after the first time he saw Lucy Gray on the screen, he’s become distant. He was always talking about her, visiting her, thinking about her. Part of you wanted her to die in the arena, but your wishes fell upon deaf ears. 
For the first time, you were faced to face with your tribute. He was even skinnier in person. Your heart burned for him. You were so lucky that your parents got you out of the District when they could or else that could have been you on the other side of the table. 
“Okay, Finn, I’m going to be honest, you aren’t the person people root for, but I can make sure that you live as long as possible.” What you said was harsh, but true. You could get your father and his friends to sponsor him. With enough sponsors, he could get food, water, and medicine. That’s as good as it’s going to get. 
“We all know that Lucy Grey’s going to win. Her mentor has been visiting her every night. He brought her half of a sandwich last night. I saw them by the gates. I could see them talking. They were close, real close. I could have sworn I saw them kiss, but-” The rest of Finn’s sentence was drowned out by the sound of static ringing through your ears. 
— — — — 
Your knuckles rapped against the door of the Snow residence. It was later in the day, your tribute was thankful that you somewhat believed in him, but both of you knew that he wasn’t going to make it out alive. If anyone killed the Capitols songbird they would surely live a life of shame. 
Tigris opened the door and smiled when she saw you standing there, but her smile faded as she saw the tears streaming down your face. She opened her arms and trapped you in them, letting your tears stain her dress. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Her voice was soft and almost whisper quiet. She was a gentle soul and you trusted her with your darkest secrets. 
“My tribute said that Coriolanus and Lucy Gray kissed,” you said through tears. 
Tigris gasped and looked at you in the eyes, searching for something to say. “I’m-I don’t know what to say. That doesn’t sound like Coryo. He loves you too much to do that.” 
“Really? Lately Lucy Grey is all he can talk about. It’s like she’s his girlfriend and not me.”  “Because he wants to win the prize money. We need to pay rent and we don’t have enough.” Tigris said as she wiped away your tears. 
“It doesn’t help that the capitol likes them together. He might as well date her instead of me. I mean, she’s pretty and she can sing like none other. I just-” You were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing. In less than twenty seconds Coriolanus was at your side. 
His hands find their place on your shoulders as he pulls you away from Tigris’s grasp. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong, dove? Did someone hurt you?” 
You wipe your nose with your sleeve. Your mother would kill you if she found out you did something so unclassy in front of a man, but right now you could care less about class. Your eyes looked around everywhere, trying not to make eye contact with his. You knew that you would cry again if you looked into his eyes. The eyes that got you hooked on him in the first place. The eyes that Lucy Grey saw flutter close before they kissed. 
Your shoulders wiggled out of his grasp. His hands fell to his sides and you could have sworn you saw his hands ball up in fists, stopping themselves from coming in contact with your soft skin. 
You swallowed the lump in your throat and said, “My tribute, Finn. He said that you and Lucy Gray kissed last night at the zoo.” It came out more as a whisper. You hated how pathetic you sounded right at that moment. 
You could see Coriolanus search for the memories of what happened last night. He then sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “We didn’t kiss,” he began, “but I can see why the other tributes would think that. We were close, but it was only because I wanted to tell her more game strategies and I didn’t want the other tributes to hear.” 
You felt stupid. You felt really stupid to assume that your boyfriend of two years would cheat on you. “But I-I heard people in the shop the other day say that they wanted you and Lucy Gray to get together. They said that the two of you had so much chemistry.”
“First of all, that’s illegal, and second of all, I love you. And only you.” His hand tilted your chin up and wiped the tears that were still falling on your face. Tigris had retired to her room a long time ago. 
Coriolanus leads you to his room. The window that overlooked the Capitol was open, letting in the cold. “Let me show you how much I love you,” he whispered, inches away from your lips. 
“Yes,” was the only thing you managed to say before he kissed you. The kiss started off soft and slow, but as his hands found their home on your waist, the kiss got harder. Your lips found a good rhythm as they got familiar with one another. His tongue skittered across your bottom lip, begging for permission to enter. Your tongues danced with one another before Coriolanus broke the kiss. 
His lips pressed light kisses along your neck. He nipped at your skin causing you to jump a bit. He smiled into your skin and laid you down on his bed. His hand slid down to the bottom of your dress. You had changed after you got home from the visit with your tribute. You wanted to get that stupid uniform off before it suffocated you. 
“Do you want this?” he asked as his fingers inched the bottom of your dress up inch by inch until the only thing that was left covering your bottom half was your underwear. They were already soaked through. He began placing soft kisses on the skin of your things, but he wouldn’t go any further until he got your permission. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. After all, this was supposed to be about you. 
You nodded your head and Snow nipped your inner thigh. “Words, dove.” 
“Yes, Coryo.” 
“Good girl.” He breathed before his fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear. He slowly took them off of you, dragging this on as long as he could before you went mad. Your chest rose and fell as you focused on the man in between your legs. 
Right now, the games were the least of your worries. The people who started the rumors of Coriolanus and Lucy Grey could go to hell for all you cared. You finally had the truth. Coriolanus loved you, and no District Twelve songbird could change that. 
Coriolanus nuzzles his nose against your clit as his tongue prods against your entrance. Your hand clamped over your mouth as you tried your best to muffle your moans. You would just die if Grandma'am or Tigris heard what their beloved Coriolanus was doing to you. 
Seconds later, his mouth hungrily sucked on your clit. Your eyes went wide and you let out a silent moan. Overwhelmed with pleasure, your thighs clamp around his head, but instead of pushing them back, he keeps them there. He looks up at you and his beautiful blue eyes flutter close, enjoying the way you taste. 
His fingers trace along your wet hole, gathering your slick. First, he inserts his index finger and then his middle one. His fingers are long and skinny, but they feel oh so fucking good. His fingers fuck in and out of you, stroking along your G-spot. 
You can’t hold on much longer. He can tell by the way your pussy clenches around his fingers. He hungrily laps at your clit, drawing small and tight circles with his tongue. Coriolanus loves this part. The part when your back arches off his bed, when your pussy spasms around him, and when your thighs shake as you let out the prettiest moan. Chills run down your body as you shiver with pleasure. You come off your high as he takes his fingers out of you. They’re soaked with your release and he grins down at them. He licks his fingers clean of your slick and kisses the skin right above your hips. 
“That better?” he asked, lying next to you on the bed. 
You nod your head. You weren’t able to form words right at the moment.
“I’m sorry for making you believe that I would ever cheat on you. I really do love you, my dove.” 
Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach. You let oxygen fill your lungs before you exhale and turn it into carbon dioxide. “Coryo, I’m sorry for being jealous. I know how much this annual Hunger Games means to you. You know that my father would be more than happy to pay your rent. He knows how much you mean to me.” 
Coriolanus shook his head. “That’s not what this is about. Dove, I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you for your father.” 
You got up and straddled his lap, your bare pussy was just inches away from his hard cock. Coriolanus gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing. Your hands wipe away some hair from his face. “Then what is this about? Please, let me know. I want to help.” 
He hides his face in the crook of your neck. “I want to show the Dean that I can win. I want to show him that Snow lands on top,” Coriolanus mumbles against your skin. 
“Figuratively and literally,” you whisper. 
Coriolanus spent the rest of the night showing you exactly what he meant by ‘Snow lands on top.’
3K notes · View notes
ethereal-night-fairy · 5 months ago
Text
I wonder how Slasher!Soap would deal with a passively suicidal victim. This was inspired by @ghouljams drabble.
Slasher Masterlist
Warning: MDNI dark themes, dead dove, child neglect, passive suicidal ideation, attempted murder, implied horny thoughts.
Tumblr media
Exam season is getting to you. The food here sucks. You hate your dorm, all your friends seem fake and superficial. You don't enjoy your course work. The professors here are assholes and your job keeps forcing you to work overtime when you clearly needed to focus on your exams.
You're fed up with life wondering why you even bothered applying to this college major when you knew it wouldn't make you happy. You suppose you always wanted to make your parents proud yet they hardly ever cared. They didn't even bother to see you off when you left. Too 'busy' as they put it.
But you're too far in to drop out now. You've already spent too much money to back out. It always been like this. It's always you putting everyones needs above your own. You shot yourself in the foot this time though. You could've picked something you liked to study, but you didn't. Only because you had a small hope if you followed in the footsteps of your parents perhaps they'd pay attention to you. But you're an idiot for hoping that. It's the same story retold ever since you were a child.
At least you're good at putting up a front. No one ever suspected anthing from you. Not your family, not your so called 'friends'. You suppose you can attribute that to your acting skills. You're good at lying, you're good at masking your emotions. You're good at plastering on a smile to get through the day. As exhausting as it is you can put up with it for now. You're living like a zombie, a put together zombie but a zombie nonetheless.
But it seems that God was merciful. Because you were sent someone who'd finally put an end to your suffering. During a time where all you did was work, study and sleep he promised you everything you've ever wanted. An early grave where you could finally rest.
He promised you he was going to end your life and you felt relieved? Most people would be afraid but not you. No, unlike everyone else you were flooded with an overwhelmingly amount of relief. After so many years of pain and suffering were you finally going to be put out of your misery?
You first noticed him on your late walks home from work. There was someone following you. Someone keenly keeping an eye on you. For the first time in your life someone had taken an interest in you.
Then the notes started appearing in your dorm. Short cute but threatening notes detailing the things he wanted to do to you. Soon after the calls started. They always came late at night when you'd get home from work. And strangely you enjoyed them. Not in some sick perverse way, but just because someone wanted to talk to you. You didn't mind playing along to keep his attention on you.
For once in your life you don't have to worry about anything because you knew things were coming to an end. For once someone had shown some kind of attraction to you. Even if it is just to objectify you. You didn't mind though. Any attention is better than no attention. This takes the whole blame and guilt off you for wanting to kill yourself. No one would blame you for wasting money, no one could technically be mad at you for dying when it wasn't your fault.
And that's what you wanted, a blameless death, one that no one could argue and fight over. If someone else does kills you it doesn't really count as suicide does it? And your parents wouldn't blame themselves because you didn't do it to yourself.
It's perfect. A win-win situation for both parties.
But that's what ends up fucking everything up.
When he finally came to end your life your nonchalant attitude to dying threw Soap off his game. The worst part to Soap is that you're not even horny about the whole ordeal. This isn't a kink thing to you like he suspected in the beginning. Which confuses Soap even more because you were playing the game so seamlessly up until now.
You led him on with your fake pleas for mercy, your fake cries of fear, your fake gasps of terror. But everything was a lie, you led him on. And for some reason that upset him more than anything else. The fact he was fooled playing his own game.
Most of his victims play into the fantasy at the start thinking it's some sort of BDSM scene. Not realising they're actually going to die. He thinks that's mainly due to how handsome he is. No one ever suspects the handsome ones.
And then they end up dying in utter terror and agony. And oh how he loved their screams changing from that of pleasure to pain. Knowing full well they couldn't do anything to stop him. No amount of begging or pleas were able to spare their lives.
While with you, you fully expected to die at his hands and he finally understands now it was you who was playing with him. It was you who was weaving the game and puppeteering him to your end goal. He never had control when it came to you.
You stare at him with tired eyes and a peaceful smile as his hands tightened their way around your pretty neck. The same neck he left a necklace of hickies on just a few seconds earlier. He squeezes down watching your body fight your mind. But there's no rush of endorphins, no blood pooling to his cock as he watches you gasp because there's no real fight in you. You've long given up.
And he hates it. He hates he was tricked, he hates he was made into a fool, he hates your dead eyes. He hates that you look so broken.
Only because it wasn't him that broke you.
So his hands loosen and the colour returns to your face while you look at him confused but more upset than anything.
"There's no fun in killing the dead Dove..." The tiredness re-enters your eyes as you look at him with your withered soul. You looked so done with the world. So beaten down that killing you would be akin admitting defeat to himself.
There's no way he'd allow someone to beat him at his own game... Especially not someone as pathetic as you. He'll just have to breathe life back into you and restart this game in his favour. He'll win one way or another. Even if he has to break his own rules to do it.
Tumblr media
Dividers by @cafekitsune
Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.
511 notes · View notes
xxxdreamscapexxx · 6 months ago
Text
How badly do you want to win
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
G!P Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff
Word count: 5.2k
Description is mostly in the screenshot of the request, so I'm gonna move on to the warnings ;) But also, OMG, I'm so excited about this fic! Thank you, nonnie, for sending this in! I loved it!
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, developing relationship, enemies to friends to lovers, G!P Wanda, Oral sex (both giving and receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, cum swallowing, some thigh fucking, shower sex... I think this might be it, but I could also be wrong.
Masterlist with all my works.
Wanda always thought that Natasha was beautiful. The way she wore her hair in a braid, the determined look in her eyes, whenever she played, the way her body moved and her muscles flexed. She was simply gorgeous. Way better than the rest of her team. And she knew it. She wore that confidence as she walked out on the court, when she played, when she practiced. It was that confidence that first captured Wanda’s attention.
It started as competitiveness, of course. Getting in each-other’s faces, a silent challenge and a glare in their eyes as they measured each-other. But there was more underneath that. Perhaps a kind of recognition of a kindred spirit. Or maybe it was the adrenaline and excitement of the game, but they always felt this pull towards each-other.
On her end, Natasha took one look at Wanda and she knew that she had met her match. Someone who could give as good as she got, not only on the court, but in life as well. The brunette had such intensity in her eyes, such passion… And on a closer look, perhaps a little secret too. At first Natasha thought she imagined it, the outline of a bulge in the other girl’s shorts, which seemed a little too loose, compared to everyone elses. But as time passed, Natasha knew it wasn’t just her imagination. Whenever she’d stand in front of Wanda, blocking her teammates from passing the ball to her, their bodies sometimes brushing against each-other, she could feel something there too and the thought excited her so much. Professional rivalry was one thing, but who said they couldn’t be something else outside the court?
Such an idea excited the redhead and as the championship approached, she started to go to some of Wanda’s games, waiting for the match to be over, lurking near the back exit, where the players left, so she could see her. She’d congratulate Wanda on a game well played, she’d sometimes tease her for missed opportunities… Then she started to get bolder, inviting Wanda for a game of pool, or ask her to go have coffee somewhere, offering for them to go out for a drink, just so she could spend more time with the girl.
At first, Wanda thought it was a trick, snappy responses leaving her lips easily. She thought it was some kind of mind game Natasha was playing, so she could distract Wanda, get under her skin perhaps. And at first she avoided the redhead, even if she was curious to spend time with her. But as time passed, Wanda decided that two can play such games and eventually she agreed and that night changed everything.
Wanda had a million ideas about how the night will go, but she certainly never expected to like the girl so much. They had so much in common. Both had competitive siblings and parents with high expectations, both felt the pressure of being the best… Both had that yearning for more than life had given them. So they bonded, mutual understanding growing into respect and a spark of desire that was simply undeniable. It didn’t happen in a day, it grew slowly, day after day.
They made it a tradition, having a day out after a game, talking about their teams and their hopes and dreams, growing much closer than they ever intended, their playful banter turning into flirting and teasing touches. When they couldn’t see each-other, they texted, smiling at their phones whenever they saw a new message from the other girl.  The air felt charged whenever they saw each-other and they brought the best out of the other. Whenever Wanda would see Natasha in the crowd of people during a match, she’d always play a little better, pushing herself to show that she’s the best, that she was deserving of the other girl’s attention. Natasha did the same. Her usual confidence was always cranked up to 11 when Wanda was there to see her play. She’d use more tricks than usual, she’d take more risks, in hopes of impressing her. And it worked. In Wanda’s eyes, she was the most spectacular player she’d ever seen.
For some reason they both agreed to keep it secret. Their teams were considered enemies, both fighting to win the same competition and the rest of the players simply wouldn’t understand. Perhaps very few would understand… But then again, perhaps that was just another thing that brought them closer together.
Then the championship came, the two teams won match after match, getting closer to a game when they would have to play against each-other and their fans were going crazy. All kinds of rumours were flying around, people hyping their favorite team, making banners, posting challenges online… It was almost too much. Their teams were getting eager too, their coaches adding more practice sessions in their schedules, all in the name of winning. But through it all, they had each-other, their connection growing stronger.
The night of the big game, Wanda felt restless. Tomorrow their teams would face each-other and she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t focus her thoughts, or make up her mind. She felt conflicted. She wanted to win, no she needed to win. But she didn’t want to do it by making Natasha and her team look bad. She was afraid that this game would change everything. That if her team won, she’ll never see Natasha again. But if her team lost, because of her… Her chances of a professional career would be over. Her parents would be disappointed, her team and couch would be devastated. Not to mention that she wouldn’t hear the end of it from Pietro. He already had a contract with one of the best teams in the country. If she didn’t do as well… Then what?
With a huff Wanda got out of her bed and dressed in a rush, silently sneaking out of her dorm and walked the familiar path to the gym, easily finding her way to the basketball court, picking up a ball and bouncing it against the floor aimlessly. She felt lost. But before she could let her thoughts spiral once again, her phone buzzed.
She opened her messages suspiciously, wondering who would text her so late, only to see it was from Natasha.
“I can’t sleep.” It read simply and Wanda smiled.
“Neither can I.” She responded. Then, an idea struck and she turned on the camera on her phone, snapping a quick picture of herself on the court.
She sent it quickly, before she had time to lose her nerve and she waited with bated breath for the other girl’s response.
“Stay there!” Is all she received, before Natasha went offline and Wanda smiled, pocketing her phone.
She played mindlessly, mostly trying to score from different positions and angles, practicing her 3-point shot, until the sound of nearby footsteps stopped her in her tracks and she turned to find Natasha behind her.
“Wanna play?” The redhead said simply, hands in her pockets.
“Why not.” Wanda shrugged, passing the ball to Natasha.
The redhead caught it easily, dribbling lazily as she got onto the court.
“Anxious about tomorrow?” She asked, still not really playing. Wanda only nodded. “So am I.” Natasha admitted with a serious expression, her actions pausing for a moment. Their eyes met briefly and the air suddenly felt charged, when Wanda spoke.
“Will you still be my friend?” Wanda asked suddenly. “If we win…” She clarified, her eyes down.
“Aren’t you cocky, Maximoff? What makes you think you’ll win?” Natasha countered playfully, starting up her dribbling again.
“You think you can take me?” Wanda asked, a challenge in her voice. She wasn’t sure she could win, they never actually played one on one before, but she never liked backing down. And besides, this would get her mind off things at least for a bit. “Let’s find out. Play.”
Their words faded after that, all their focus on the ball. They played with the same competitiveness they always brought to their games, each one leaning on her strengths, scoring again and again. In the end they were evenly matched, Natasha leading by just 1 point, when they fell to the floor, utterly exhausted.
“You didn’t answer my question.” Wanda finally said, when she was able to steady her breathing. She was lying on the floor, too tired to even sit. Natasha was the same, panting next to her in the middle of the court.
She regarded the brunette for a long moment, considering the question, memories shared between them flashing before her eyes. Natasha knew what the stakes were. For the both of them. But somewhere along the line, her priorities had shifted, her goals had changed and she knew that she saw so much more than a friend in Wanda’s eyes.
“Do you want to win?” Natasha asked, intentionally ignoring the question Wanda had asked.
“I’ve always wanted to win. Ever since I was a little girl. I’m just not sure that basketball is what I want to win at.” Wanda admitted. “But I don’t know what to do, who to be, if not this…” She continued sullenly.
“You have excellent grades, Wanda. I’m sure you didn’t just pick literature as your major, because you thought it would be easy…” Natasha pointed out. “So I’ll ask again. Do you want to win?”
“Do you?” Wanda countered, unsure how to answer this question.
“You know what I really want?” Natasha asked, straightening a bit and getting closer to the other girl. “I want to finish college, play basketball, I want to have a girlfriend and real friends, who like me for who I am, not my reputation. I wasn’t genuine relationships with real people…” She started, her eyes burning with passion. “At first, when I met you… All I wanted to do was win. Then I wanted to get to know you. And now that I have… Wanda Maximoff, what I want most is you. The more I got to know you, the more I’ve been wanting you. And tonight? It wasn’t thoughts of the game that kept me up. It was you.” She said as she stroked Wanda’s face, which seemed to grow serene at her words. “I don’t care who wins tomorrow… I want you. And I think…” Natasha paused for a moment, gathering her courage. “I think you want me too.” She said finally, forcing herself to look in Wanda’s eyes.
“I really do.” Wanda nodded, her voice wavering from the intensity of it all.
Hearing that was everything Natasha needed, before she leaned down, kissing the girl in front of her. She did it gently at first, just their lips brushing softly, giving Wanda a chance to catch up. Despite her usual confidence, the redhead felt exposed, felt vulnerable after everything she had said and even with Wanda’s confirmation, she still feared the other girl may push her away. But the brunette did no such thing. Her hand only cupped the back of Natasha’s head, pulling her closer, her mouth opening to let Natasha’s tongue inside.
The redhead took the hint, easily sliding on top of the other girl, straddling her things and leaning down to deepen their kiss, smirking when Wanda moaned from underneath her.
“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to do that.” Wanda said suddenly. And she had. She’d thought about it for months now. Pictured what Natasha would be like, pinned underneath her, legs spread wide, taking all of her deep inside…
“As have I.” Natasha whispered in a sultry tone, grinding her hips against the girl underneath her and pulling her from her thoughts. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.” She confessed, leaning down to steal more kisses from Wanda’s lips.
They kissed like this, right there on the floor, until they were both panting, Natasha’s hips moving involuntarily against the brunette in a delicious rhythm that drove them both wild, feeling Wanda’s member harden underneath her, the outline of it impossible to hide now. She looked huge and so fucking ready and it made Natasha go wild with lust. That’s when the redhead started to sneak her hands underneath Wanda’s clothing, lifting the hem of her shirt, so she could trace her sides and the toned muscles of her stomach and smirking devilishly when the other girl moaned at the feeling.
“We shouldn’t do this here.” Wanda tried to object, even if her voice didn’t hold much resolve. She felt uneasy, being undressed in the middle of the court and she didn’t want anyone to see this moment between them. She wanted the other girl all to herself.
“Lockers?” Natasha suggested, happy to go anywhere as long as Wanda kept touching her like that.
“Showers.” Wanda panted, wrapping her arms around Natasha’s waist and getting up with her still in her arms, making her squeal in excitement.
She carried the redhead easily through the court and down the hall, into the locker rooms and then the showers, now dark from disuse. Wanda didn’t even need to look to find the light switch, pressing it, before she continued further inside, depositing Natasha on the edge of the row of sinks and settling between her legs.
Her hands explored the other girl’s body slowly, gliding down her shoulders and back as they kissed, pulling her impossibly closer to herself, their chest pressed together. All time had lost meaning to her. There was only this moment. Now. With Natasha in her arms. And it was heavenly.
“Take this off. I want to see you.” Natasha panted between kisses, taking hold of Wanda’s shirt and pulling it over her head, revealing a sports bra underneath.
The action was enough encouragement for the brunette to start undressing the other girl as well, pulling on her clothes and admiring her breasts, hidden in a lacy bra. God, Natasha was so beautiful. She had such delicious curves, it made Wanda’s mouth water.
Following Wanda’s gaze, Natasha only smirked, reaching back and unclasping her bra, dropping it dramatically and leaving her breasts exposed to the girl’s hungry stare.
“You’re so beautiful.” Wanda whispered, once again pulling Natasha in a heated kiss, her hands cupping the redhead’s breasts and massaging them gently. She rolled her nipples next, eliciting low moans from Natasha’s throat, feeling her fingers bury themselves in her hair, guiding her head down.
Wanda took the hint, eagerly leaning down to suck on Natasha’s erect nipples, swirling her tongue over them, one after the other.
“God, I want you.” Natasha gasped, loosing the last of her patience and pushing the brunette backwords.
Using the momentum, Natasha jumped down from her spot, stalking towards Wanda, before she started to pull on the rest of her clothes, removing her bra swiftly, having only a moment to admire the perfect breasts underneath, before reaching down to take off her shorts.
“Natasha, wait!” Wanda grabbed her wrists suddenly. “I have to tell you something…” She panted, her eyes drifting subconsciously to her member.
“Oh, I know!” Natasha smirked. “I felt it. And I think it’s really hot.” She said with a genuine smile on her face, which seemed to reassure Wanda a little. “But we don’t have to do anything…” Natasha continued, her hands running up and down Wanda’s arms reassuringly.
“I just never…” Wanda shook her head. “I mean… Not that way.” She said, unsure how to clarify what she meant.
She’d been with other girls before. Being the star of the basketball team, she never lacked attention. Girls liked to throw themselves at her all the time, but she never actually gathered the courage to fuck them the way she wanted. She didn’t know how to tell them, so she just never did. She never let them pull down her pants, or make her feel good. But she had plenty of practice, using her fingers and her tongue to make girls cum. Truthfully, she didn’t mind it that much. She loved bringing them pleasure, making them cum… She was good at it too and she knew it. But with Natasha. With her, what she used to do simply didn’t feel enough. She wanted to feel Natasha, wanted to experience her. All of her.
“We don’t have to, Wands.” Natasha shook her head, seemingly understanding. “We don’t have to, I promise. But if you want to… I want you to know that you’ll be safe with me.”
“Are you sure?” The brunette whispered shyly.
“Yes, I’m sure. I want to feel you, baby. I want to make you feel so good.” Natasha nodded, her eyes locking with Wanda’s and searching them for any sign of hesitation. “Will you let me make you feel good, honey?” She asked, her eyes attentive.
“Yes.” Wanda whispered eagerly, pulling the other girl in for another heated kiss. “Yes, please.” She gasped, when she felt Natasha’s hot hands on her body again.
“That’s what I like to hear.” Natasha smirked, pulling away just long enough to pull down her sweats and taking her panties with them, dropping the clothing on the floor.
When she was done, she stepped closer to Wanda, giving her a reassuring smile, before she kissed her again, hands gliding over every inch of exposed skin, until she felt the girl relax against her. That’s when she hooked her fingers in Wanda’s shorts, pausing briefly, before she started to pull them down, watching them pool around her ancles and helping the brunette to step out of them.
“You’re gorgeous, Wanda.” Natasha whispered against the girl’s lips. “Will you let me take these off too?” She asked, playing with the waist band of Wanda’s boxers, her hand slipping lower to cup her length.
“Yes. Take it off.” Wanda moaned, head falling back at the way Natasha’s fingers gripped her cock.
Natasha didn’t hesitate for a second, eagerly pulling the last bot of clothing from Wanda’s body, only to reveal her cock. She looked even bigger now, pink and girthy and painfully hard.
“Fuck you’re so big.” Natasha cursed, licking her lips at the sight of it. She doubted she could fit even half of it in her mouth, but she’d be a liar if she said she didn’t want to try.
Before she could make another move though, Wanda pulled her close again, stepping backwards and into the first stall she could find, turning on the water from the shower above as they kissed more.
It didn’t take long for the brunette to find her way down Natasha’s neck, peppering kisses and licking the length of it, before moving down, mouth latching on to one of her breasts again and sucking on the sensitive nipple, while her hands moved even lower, cupping Natasha’s ass and pulling her closer, keeping her waist in a tight hold, while her other hand found its way between Natasha’s legs, fingers running over her folds and feeling the wetness there.
“You’re so wet for me, baby.” Wanda gasped. She’d never felt someone get so wet for her. Natasha was practically dripping.
Before the redhead could respond, she felt Wanda’s fingers probe at her entrance, dragging her slick juices up to her clit and circling it in a slow motion.
“Inside. Wanda, want you inside me now.” Natasha gasped, guiding the other girl’s hand back to her entrance. “Stretch me out for you, baby. Stretch me for that big fucking cock.”
Just the words had Wanda’s cock throbbing and she hurried to do as she was told, her fingers slipping inside Natasha with ease, feeling her walls squeeze them in anticipation. Her lips followed the path of her hands, trailing kisses down Natasha’s belly, before they joined her efforts, eagerly attaching themselves around Natasha’s clit, so her tongue could swerve over it in circles.
“Oh my God!” Natasha gasped, burying her fingers in Wanda’s hair, pulling her closer, hips grinding against her face. “That feels so good.” She managed to say between moans. Her legs were shaking and she had to lean against the tiles just to keep herself upright, refusing to let Wanda go.
She was getting close embarrassingly quickly, but she didn’t care. Wanda’s fingers were curling inside her in just the right way and her tongue was swirling over that spot that made her see stars and it all made her feel so good.
“God, you’re gonna make me cum.” Natasha panted, briefly opening her eyes to see Wanda’s eager ones, staring right back at her.
“Cum for me.” Wanda detached herself just long enough to speak, before she was back at it again.
Natasha felt herself get even closer to the edge, the tidal wave of pleasure rising within her. She was so close. For a brief moment she felt suspended in time, her body riding the edge in the most delicious way possible, before she finally let go, the tidal wave of pleasure finally crashing over her. It felt so good, she could hardly contain the filthy moans that spilled from her lips, her hips grinding against Wanda’s mouth in search of more, wanting to prolong her pleasure, until she had no more left to give.
She sagged against the tiles, a grin forming on her lips as she pulled Wanda up and against herself, trying to catch her breath. She felt kisses on her face and neck, on her shoulders, Wanda’s arms running up and down her body in a soothing manner that made her wish they could have done this in a bed instead.
When she was able to recover, at least slightly, Natasha pulled the other girl for a kiss, tasting herself on her lips and loving it so much. She hadn’t tasted herself before and the filthiness of it excited her even more. But it was Wanda’s hard cock, pressed against her thigh, that finally brought her to reality. She felt so damn hard.
“Oh, honey…” Natasha gasped, hand reaching down to take hold of Wanda’s length, jerking her slowly. “I’ve been neglecting that poor cock…” She said with a trace of fake pity in her voice. “Let me make it up to you.” She suggested, grabbing Wanda and spinning her around, until she landed against the tiles, taking Natasha’s previous spot.
Wanda’s cock throbbed in Natasha’s hand and the girl couldn’t resist any more. She dropped to her knees quickly, her hand still moving up and down in a teasingly slow motion. Damn, that thing looked even bigger up close. But that only made it more enticing for Natasha and she opened her mouth, licking a long line from the base of Wanda’s cock, all the way to her tip. It made the brunette moan so wantonly.
“You make such pretty sounds and I’ve barely touched it.” Natasha said teasingly. “I wonder what you’ll sound like if I do this…” She continued, her eyes glinting with mischief and amusement, when she leaned down again and wrapped her lips around Wanda’s tip, giving it a long, wet kiss.
“Fuck!” Wanda hissed, hands clenching into fists, holding back the urge to grab Natasha by the hair and make her suck it for real.
Natasha did it a few more times, swirling her tongue over Wanda’s cock-head and giving it slow, wet kisses that drove the brunette crazy, before she finally relented, taking more of it in her mouth and sucking lightly, while her hand jerked the rest of it in a steady rhythm.
“Don’t hold back, baby.” Natasha whispered. “Show me what you want.”
And it was all it took, to make Wanda snap, hand flying to Natasha’s hair, holding her in a firm grip as she started to guide her up and down her length. She tried to be gentle with the redhead, pulling back when she felt her tip reaching that soft spot on the back of her throat. Even like this, Natasha’s mouth felt divine. Much better than Wanda’s own hand ever did and she knew she wouldn’t last long.
“Nat… Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” She tried to warn, hands releasing Natasha’s hair, so she could move away, but the girl did no such thing.
“Don’t you dare waste it, baby. I want to taste you.” Natasha said in a low voice, pulling away just long enough to say the words, before her mouth was back on Wanda’s cock, taking it as deep as she could without gaging.
And that’s all it took for Wanda to cum. Curses spilled from her mouth as rope after rope of cum shot from her tip, gathering on Natasha’s awaiting tongue. Nothing had ever felt better than this and Wanda allowed herself to enjoy every second of it, hips stuttering with every new wave of pleasure that she felt.
When she was finally spent, she managed to open her eyes just in time to see Natasha pull away, her lips closing as she swallowed it all down with a grin that made Wanda weak in the knees.
“I can’t believe you just did that.” She panted, her cock starting to harden again at the thought alone.
“What can I say… You taste so damn good.” Natasha smirked and it made Wanda want to wipe that smug smile off her face.
She pulled Natasha in for a kiss then, hands landing on her ass, so she could keep her close, pulling one of the redhead’s hips around her waist and feeling the slick heat of her pussy rub against her cock. Damn, that girl was driving her crazy.
“I want to be inside you.” Wanda whispered between kisses, pausing to look in Natasha’s eyes, making sure that it was ok.
“So take me.” Natasha smiled warmly. “You can do whatever you want to me.” She said, hands gently cupping the other girl’s face.
Their foreheads touched for a moment, eyes closing to savour the intimacy of it. They kissed, lips moving slowly, tongues brushing against each-other in a slow dance as the warm water cascaded down their bodies, until they couldn’t take the anticipation any longer.
Wanda’s hand reached between their bodies then, taking her cock in her hand and giving it a few slow strokes, letting the tip of it rub against Natasha’s wet entrance. She tried to prepare herself for the moment she’d slip inside, but nothing could prepare her for the way Natasha felt around her. She was so warm, her slick walls pulling Wanda in deeper, spasming around her in a way so blissful, she could hardly contain herself.
“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Wanda gasped, trying to steady her breathing.
“And you’re so damn big, baby. Such a big fucking cock.” Natasha rasped, eyes rolling to the back of her head at the feeling of being so full.
Wanda waited a moment, letting the redhead adjust to the feeling of her, before her hips started to move. Gently rocking back and forth at first, holding Natasha soothingly in her embrace. Then her pace started to quicken, the feeling of Natasha’s tight pussy too overwhelming to stop.
She flipped them easily, pressing Natasha’s front to the tiles of the shower stall and positioning herself behind her, strong hands taking hold of Natasha’s hips, her cock entering the redhead once again with a deep thrust that had Natasha moaning in pure extasy.
“Fuck! Just like that!” Natasha panted, her mouth opening in a soundless moan as Wanda started to fuck her with deep, steady thrusts. She could feel Wanda’s cock sheathe itself fully inside her with every thrust of the girl’s hips, making her see stars.
“You feel so good.” Wanda panted behind her, head falling on Nat’s shoulder and giving it a few gentle kisses.  
It took everything in Wanda to keep herself from loosing control. She’d never felt anything like this before, she never even dared to imagine it could ever be this good and even though she had orgasmed just minutes before, she was desperate to cum again. She wanted to fill Natasha up with her cum, claim her as her own for good, she wanted to bury herself inside her and never pull out.
With a steadying breath, Wanda pressed herself even closer to Nat’s back, one hand on the wall to steady her, while the other circled Natasha’s hips and found its way between her legs, fingers probing between her folds and finding her clit, so she could play with it in steady circles.
“God, Wanda!” The redhead panted, pressing herself into Wanda’s warm body. She was getting close and she wanted to come surrounded by Wanda in every way. “Fuck, I’m close. Don’t stop, please.” She almost mewled, desperate to reach her high.
“I’ve got you, Nat.” The brunette whispered softly. “I’ve got you and I won’t let you go.” She promised. “Come for me, pretty girl. Show me how good I’m making you feel.” She encouraged, even if she was dangerously close to letting go herself.
With a cry and a harsh thrust from Wanda’s hips, Natasha came, hands flying to keep the brunette from moving, wanting to feel every inch of her cock buried deep inside her as she felt the best orgasm of her life. Her walls spasming around Wanda’s cock as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. She could feel the pleasure of it spread over her entire body, making her feel almost weightless and she braced herself on the wall.
When she was done, she almost whined at the feeling of Wanda pulling out and she guided the girl closer to herself again, placing her cock between her thighs, letting her length rub against her sensitive pussy, as she started to move back and forth.
“Nat! Baby, I’m gonna cum!” Wanda warned, both her hands now braced on the tiles, while Natasha milked her cock between her thighs.
“Go ahead.” Natasha panted, movements speeding up.
In just a few seconds Wanda let go, spurts of white shooting out of her cock and smearing over Natasha’s thighs and between her legs, painting her skin in sticky cum.
When it was over, they both chuckled, looking at each-other with excitement and tender love. They embraced gently, letting the warm water wash their bodies as the stood there in peaceful bliss.
“I don’t care about what happens tomorrow.” Natasha finally spoke. “I only care about you.”
“You know… I don’t even know why I play anymore… I guess it’s just what people expect of me…” Wanda admitted. “My parents, my brother, my coach, my team… That’s what they all want from me.”
“I fucking hate your team.” Natasha said, pulling Wanda even closer. “But I love you, Wands. So, whatever happens, I want you to know that you have me. And I support you, ok? If you want to play, I’ll practice with you every day. And if you want to quit and do something with that literature major then, I’ll be there too. You have me. Some stupid game is never gonna change that.”
“You love me?” Wanda asked, pulling her head away from Natasha’s chest, so she could look at her.
“That’s what you took from that whole speech?” Natasha pushed Wanda playfully, only to have the brunette snuggle back into her.
“I love you too.” Wanda said, as she nestled her head in the crook of Natasha’s neck, knowing that whatever happened tomorrow, everything was going to be all right.
594 notes · View notes
guided-by-stars · 3 months ago
Text
One of the aspects of the systems of belief established in ISAT that makes it so fascinating to examine is that they are are centered around praxes that aren’t focused on as much in the major religions in our world.
Much has been said about how the Change belief encourages self-exploration, (transness is seen as holy, exploration of identity is encouraged) and pressures those who don’t want to change who they are (Mirabelle). The underlying core of the Change belief is action. Active Choice is more encouraged than anything else. The choice to change your body, the choice to change yourself, the choice to change your circumstances, the choice to go on a pilgrimage, the choice to learn new skills, etc. Of course passive change is also celebrated- death is seen as just another Change, and I assume that would apply to aging in general (appreciation of elders?), but it’s not as pushed. In this way, the Change belief encourages autonomy, control over your own life, and ownership of your life circumstances.
On the other hand, those who believe in the Universe as a force of power in the world are faced with the opposite pressure. When the King and Siffrin are relating for the first time over their shared culture, they both remember the phrase “The Universe leads, we can only follow.” The underlying core of their belief is that what is fated must happen, it’s inaction. Passivity. Any drastic action that is taken is justified by it being a path the Universe led them on. When the King starts the battle, he says “Let’s see which side the Universe favors!” Whoever ultimately wins at the end was fated to win, and that could never have been changed. It’s about resignation, acceptance.
This ultimately impacts everything about how the story plays out. When Siffrin first realizes he’s in a time loop, he’s excited! The Universe has given him the power to change things! He’s being led on a path where he can protect his friends and make sure everything is alright! They’re fated to win! As the futility of his quest sets in though, he very quickly turns to resignation instead. What’s the point of getting upset over having to die again and again? There’s nothing he can do about it. The Universe leads and he can only follow. If anyone else was the one looping, they would probably react quite differently just due to that.
However, it’s more complex than just that. What about Wish Craft? Isn’t that purely about taking action, making a Change? Well, partially, but because of the culture that everyone who knows about Wish Craft is part of, it’s seen more as appealing to the Universe. Asking, pleading, for the current to bring you down the left stream instead of the right in the fork in the waters. If you gain something from Wish Craft, you were given it, you didn’t take it. Once again, it’s passive. If Wish Craft was a Vaugardian thing, it would certainly be seen differently.
If the Change belief’s focus on action encourages autonomy, control over one’s life, and free will, what does that say about the Universes resignation and acceptance? Once again, I’m reminded of Euphrasie repeating words as if she’s prerecorded, skipping like grooves on a well-worn CD.
There’s also something to be said about how, in the Change religion, they appeal to a deity, one that you can have a personal and positive relationship with, and those who believe in the Universe are believing in an unfeeling force of nature. None of this is to say either is more beneficial than the other, the pressure to always Change can be extremely destructive, and sometimes acceptance is much better than change. It’s just fascinating how much they come into conflict with each other.
311 notes · View notes
llamagoddessofficial · 9 months ago
Note
As a scuba diver I can confirm how quickly a peaceful dive can turn scary; on a sea dive I was so caught up in the moment that I completely forgot to watch my oxygen gauge. Thankfully my buddy was there to let me use his air supply and take me to the surface.
What would the siren boys do if MC got into danger while diving, such as very low oxygen? Maybe MC was pulled by the current and drifted away from other divers? Would they help her or take advantage of the situation?
Sans: Her life entirely depends how serious the 'trouble' in question is.
He'll save her if it's a very easy problem for him to solve. Like... if she's near the surface but runs out of air, he can rush her up the last couple of metres. If she drifts away from her friends and is struggling hard against the current, he can loop her arms around his neck and swim her back to them. Things that are emergencies to her, but slight inconveniences to him, he'll help with - especially since saving her life is a very easy way to get a LOT of favour with her. He likes the way she looks at him after he saves her. Beautiful, breathless, exhausted, staring like for a moment she adores him as much as he adores her.
However... a more complex issue? He'd let her drown. Maybe she's too far away from the surface and taking her straight upward wouldn't be safe. Maybe she's entered a state of panic and is making things worse for herself and he can't convince her to hold onto him. Maybe, even, she's in trouble but she simply hasn't seen him. If she never knew he was there she wouldn't be upset he didn't help.
He'll watch. It's just a little bit of discomfort. Then? They can be together forever.
Red: Come on. It's our boy. Our respect women juice chugging world champ - of course he'll rescue her, no matter what.
Her dive buddies definitely recount the story to her. Red was goofing off like he always does, nipping and shoving people he doesn't like, making it clear he's the 'alpha' around here. But suddenly, something about him flips... something in his disposition instantly changes. He becomes completely serious, and beelines into the near distance.
... And it's only once he's with her that everyone else notices she's silently struggling. They wouldn't have known to help if Red hadn't drawn attention to her.
He acts silly and stupid. But he's always paying attention to his mate, even when far away, using his incredible senses to keep tabs. He can sense her heartbeat with his electroreception, hear her breathing in the regulator, smell her blood in her veins. He's much smarter than he acts, and if the situation gets messy, there's not much better help underwater than a massive aggressive shark who'll move mountains to keep her safe.
Skull: Surprisingly, he'll do his absolute best to save her.
You'd expect the big lug to be the one actively pulling her down. But Skull doesn't really have a plan, so to speak, with his beloved little diver, he isn't plotting her death like Sans. He just wants to be around her; he wants to court her, show her what a good mate he'll be, show her pretty rocks and gifts, win her love and pull her back no matter how many times she tries to swim away from him. So it doesn't really matter what's happening - if Skull sees her struggling, he just sees his mate in distress, and he wants to rescue her. He doesn't like seeing her in visible pain or terror.
He might be delayed in helping if she's under the effects of nitrogen narcosis, because that just makes you act silly and drunk, so he wouldn't actually know anything was wrong. But as soon as he notices something off (she takes out her regulator, passes out, etc) he'll do everything he can to save her. He's a good boy underneath all those scars and deadly tentacles.
553 notes · View notes
writtenbymisunderstoodnerds · 4 months ago
Text
Rock bottom (But you pulled me up) (Ingrid Engen x Reader)
I'm trying to work on my requests and WIP, but inspiration is lacking so I thought I'd try something new. This is my first time writing for someone out of the uswnt and in this style so please let me know what you think.
Warnings: Mentions of depression, anxiety, brief emotional abuse. Slightly suggestive at the end. Anything I've missed let me know.
Words: 2.8K
You could tell Ingrid was hurt, it was written all over her face. She had made you a lovely dinner and just wanted to have a movie night after not spending much time together. Yet here you were making an excuse to leave once again, you felt like a horrible girlfriend. Ingrid had taken the time to do something nice for you, but you couldn't get out of your head enough to enjoy it. Before you had the chance to get up, Ingrid uttered those three words that sent dread coursing through you. "We need to talk."
You swallowed hard before speaking, "About what?" 
"You barely spend anytime with me anymore. You never message me first, we only do stuff because I organise it. I don't feel like you want me anymore. You're slipping away. Are you trying to get me to break up with you because this hurts so much more than just doing it yourself."
"No! Ingrid-" Tears stung your eyes as you tried desperately to keep it together. Afraid that if she saw how broken you were she would just leave. Things had been difficult for you lately, you were depressed, anxious and stressed. You felt so close to rock bottom, as a result you had been pulling away from Ingrid. The last thing you wanted was Ingrid to leave you, but you also didn't want to be a burden to her or scare her away with your emotions. 
"Then what is it? Did I do something wrong?"
You could practically see the hope disappearing from Ingrid's eyes the longer you didn't answer, leaving hurt in its place. "I feel like when I see you, I need to be able to give you 100% of myself, of my energy and time. I can't do that right now and it makes me feel guilty. Like I'm a horrible girlfriend, that you deserve better than what I'm giving you."
Ingrid took your hand, everything in you fighting the urge to lean into her touch, to fall into the comfort you knew was waiting. If only you could bring yourself to accept it. The voices of your parents and ex-girlfriend hung in the back of your mind stopped you though. The voices that told you you were a burden to the people around you, that everyone had bigger problems to worry about and didn't care about you. The voices that told you Ingrid deserved better than you and your problems. 
"Elskling, relationships don't have to be equal all the time. There's times where it'll be 50/50, but there's times where you give 90% and I'll give 10% or the other way round, sometimes it'll be 70/30 or 60/40. You get my point. What's going on? You haven't been yourself lately and it's really worrying me. Talk to me please."
You sighed pulling away from Ingrid to cross your legs under yourself, grabbing a cushion to hold. There was a part of you that thought being single would be easier, that there was less risk of hurting Ingrid that way. At the same time you knew it was those stupid little voices in the back of your mind that kept pushing that thought. You loved Ingrid more than anything in this world and deep down you knew she loved you just as much. You didn't want to let everyone else win, you didn't want to let your mind win for once in your life. 
Talking about feelings was incredibly hard, it wasn't something you could do while being comforted by Ingrid or anyone really. "I'm sorry for the way I've been acting lately, it's not fair to you and I know that. I-I'll try to explain it all, bu-but I need you to be patient with me. Just let me speak and not touch me, I can't do this if you do."
"Anything you need. I just need you to know that whatever you tell me, I won't ever judge you. I love you Y/n, I love you so much."
"I love you Ingrid. I'm sorry if I ever made you doubt that. Okay, so I um I think I need to start with why I have such a hard time letting people in, especially those I love. My family, well to put it bluntly they're assholes. They were constantly putting down everything about my sister and I, nothing we ever did was good enough. Any problems we went through were nothing to them, they always told us that people had bigger problems, that they had bigger problems and we were just adding more stress to their lives if we talked to them about anything remotely not positive. Tha-thats the short version anyway. My uh my ex was pretty similar, she would tell me that she had better things to do then deal with my trauma or depression. If I was unhappy she would turn it around, say that she wasn't enough to make me happy. Even before her, I majorly struggled with my feelings and opening up to people. Fear mostly, that's why I um haven't told you anything. Fear that I'll be too much for you and that you'll leave me."
Tears threatened to fall, but pushing them back you continued talking. "I'm really struggling right now Ingrid. My depression is the worst it's been in years. The anxiety just sits there constantly under the surface making it feel impossible to breathe. Constant doubt about if I've made the right decisions, if I'm good enough at football, if I'm good enough for you, there are so many more things I could list. Sometimes I feel like everyone would be better off if I just packed up and left. I'm so sick of feeling like this, but I don't know how to get it to stop. This is probably one of the scariest things I've ever done, but I've had already almost lost you Ingrid. I can't let them win by actually losing you. I love you so fucking much, I can't lose you Ingrid, I can't."
Tears were near pouring out of you both as Ingrid sat there for a second. When you didn't speak she must have decided you were finished talking because the next second arms wrapped around you so tightly and you completely broke. Ingrid held you tight until the sobs turned to sniffles then you feel silent. Ingrid's hold never completely let go, it was like a life line at this point. 
"I love you Y/n. I loved you before and I still love you just as much now. I'm not going anywhere. Nothing your parents or ex said is true. I always want to know how and what you're feeling, I will always be here for you. No matter what your mind tells you, you are never too much for me or for the team or anyone who truly loves you. Our lives are so much better with you here so please don't even think about leaving because we will miss you. I will be here every step of the way while you figure things out, I will help you get the help you need. If you need space, I'll give you that, but if you need me here then I will always be here. I know you feel like you need to be giving me all of yourself, all of your energy, but you don't. Even if you can just give me 1% until you get over this bump in the road then that's enough for me. You are enough for me Y/n."
"I think there will be times when I need to be alone, but most of the time I just really want to be with you. I need to work on accepting that I deserve your love and comfort so I actually seek it out when I need it or want it. Some reassurance every now and then will help I think. Can we talk about the next steps tomorrow? I just want you to hold me right now."
"I will give you all the reassurance you need and more. Have you eaten today?" Ingrid asked, but the look in her eyes told you she knew the answer so you just shook your head. "Okay, I'm going to order some food while we cuddle here then we can go to bed."
True to her word, Ingrid held you tightly while you lay on the couch, staying close to your side during dinner and as you got ready for bed. "Thank you, for everything you've done, for being here, for loving me."
Ingrid kissed you softly, before pulling away and leaving soft kisses over your face, "Always."
Lying in bed later that night, head resting against Ingrid's chest, you decided to admit the one thing that kept swirling around your mind, "I think I need to take a break from football. Not the training, I think that helps me, but games. The pressure that comes from each game feels like weight being added. Makes me feel like I'm being dragged further down into this hole."
"Okay, if that's what you feel you need then we can talk to the coaches or Ale and she can sort it out. I know the thought of telling anyone else what is going on is scary, but Ale or anyone else on the team aren't going to judge you or think any less of you because of it."
"I think maybe we can talk to Alexia, not tell her everything, but the jist of it."
"I'll be by your side when you're ready." ---
It had been a few weeks since the talk with Ingrid and since you made the decision to stop playing in games for a while. The only person who knew why was Alexia, it was clear that everyone else was worried, but until now you hadn't felt ready to tell them and thankfully they didn't push. 
There was still a long way to go, but things had been slowly getting better over the last few weeks. You had started seeing the team therapist multiple times a week and had restarted medication for the time being at least. Everything was starting to become clearer, you weren't as anxious all the time, you were becoming more willing to talk to Ingrid, to actually spend time with her without worrying about not being enough, and smiles and laughs were becoming more genuine when they did happened. 
The team had been amazing despite not knowing what was going on, they were as supportive and loving as ever. So you decided it was time to let them in a little bit. You squeezed Ingrid's hand, getting her attention as you spoke quietly, "Can you get their attention please? I know they're worried about me and I think I'm ready to tell them."
"Hey! Can we have your attention for a minute."
Once everyone's attention was on you, the anxiousness started to creep in, but with Ingrid's hand still firmly holding yours, you took a deep breath and spoke, "I know you've all be wondering why I've effectively benched my self the last couple of weeks and I want to be honest about it. I've uh I've been um struggling a lot mentally at the moment and I decided I needed a break. The pressure was too much, I couldn't handle it on top of everything else. So uh yeah, I don't want you guys to keep worrying about me."
It was quiet for a few seconds before many arms wrapped themselves around you, mumbled we love you's and we're proud of you's were heard as you sunk into the arms of your teammates. Surprisingly, Mapi was the first to pull away, cupping your cheeks as she spoke uncharacteristically softly, "You keep doing what you're doing and come back to us when you're ready. You always have is in your corner Y/n. We are so proud of you and we love you. If there's anything you ever need you can come to us okay?"
"Thank you Mapi. Thanks all of you." --- A few months had passed and you were finally feeling like yourself again. There were still hard days, you were pretty sure there always would be, but you were genuinely happy again most of the time. You found yourself more willing to open up to not just Ingrid, but some of the other girls you were closest to. It was safe to say your life was pretty well back on track, there was just one thing left to do and that was get back to football. You hadn't told anyone of your plans to start playing games again, you had just been put in the line up as a sub, but after conversations with the coaching staff you knew you were likely to come in at half time. 
When the line up came out, Alexia was the first to notice and speak up effectively getting everyone else's attention, "Y/n?"
"Yes Ale?"
"Is there anything you want to tell us?"
Ingrid looked at you confused as you shrugged trying to be as innocent as possible while knowing exactly what she was talking about. "Oh really? Well how about the small fact that your name is on the substitute list again?"
"Oh yeah. That is a thing I guess."
Smiles grew on everyone's faces as it clicked what was happening. Ingrid practically jumped on you repeating over and over how proud she was, kisses placed over your faces. The team joined not long after, everyone cheered and congratulated you. 
"Okay okay, you can let go of me now. Yes I finally feel ready to come back."
Once everyone had let you go, Alexia pulled you up into a hug. Since she found out about your struggles, Alexia had been amazing. She was always subtly checking in whether you were at training or not, she would pull you away when everything got too overwhelming and Ingrid was busy, making some excuse so know one else would know the truth. Alexia was always just there in a way that was subtle and comforting. "Well we're so so glad you're back. I'm so proud of you Y/n."
"Thank you Ale, for everything."
As soon as your foot hit the pitch, you felt the excitement, adrenaline and happiness that you thought may have been gone for good. You felt yourself falling in love with football all over again, it was like the final weight had fallen from your shoulders. There would always be bad days or even bad weeks, you knew that, but with Ingrid, your family and your new found coping mechanisms, you finally felt ready to face them. 
---
You arms wrapped around Ingrid as she chopped the vegetables, she briefly turned to kiss your cheek before going back to her task. "Hi Elskling, you played really well today. How did it feel?"
"Hey love. It felt incredible, I know I needed a break, but man did I miss it. Anyway, enough about me I have a surprise for you. I was originally going to give it to you after dinner, but I can't wait anymore. Here." You replied, placing an envelope on the counter in front of her. You could never express how thankful you were for everything Ingrid had done for you over the last few months, for sticking by your side through everything. So instead you had decided to start with a few days away in Venice. It was something she had wanted to do for a while and you decided to make it happen.
 Ingrid looked at you for a second before opening the envelope, a smile appearing as she looked at the tickets inside. "What's this?" 
"I know what you're going to say to this, but I am so thankful for everything you've done for me. Sure we've spent a lot of time together, but it hasn't been the quality, good time you deserve. So you and I are going to spend a few days alone in Venice in a couple of weeks when we have a bit of time off. Now I don't want to hear any buts or I didn't have to do this, just say you're excited and give me a kiss."
Ingrid cupped your cheeks, allowing you to press her against the counter as she pulled you in for a lingering kiss. Just as Ingrid went to pull away, you cupped the back of her neck pulling her back in as the kiss grew heated. You didn't want to say that you stopped enjoying Ingrid's kisses because that's impossible, it was just intimacy beyond cuddling between the two of you had dropped off to almost nothing the last few months. There were still short kisses here and there, but you couldn't get out of your head long enough to actually be present for anything more and that wasn't fair to Ingrid. Your lips moved along her jaw as a quite moan slipped past Ingrid's lips.
"Di-dinner," Ingrid moaned as your hand slipped under her shirt. 
Ingrid's legs wrapped around your waist as you walked back to the bedroom, "Dinner can wait."
226 notes · View notes
justwinginglife · 3 months ago
Note
Can I req a hoshina x reader, but school au and they're academic rivals? Leikk, they're in the same class and debates every now and then who's correct. Fights aren't uncommon between them especially when they both ran for council
But what's surprising is that they actually study together outside school?
(I'm sorry if this is to much 😔, I love your fanfics. Theyre my oxygen, ty for keeping us hoshina fans well fed 🫶)
You absolutely do not need to apologize! I am totally happy to do this for you. Thank you so much for your support, and of course, I'm always happy to encourage the Hoshina hyperfixation.
The Best Plans
You had so many ideas about how you thought your college life would go; you'd be top of every class, give a rousing speech at graduation, rock your first internship, and score a killer first job. You didn't anticipate anyone having the smarts to fuck up your masterplan. But Soshiro Hoshina was a whole different beast, something you couldn't have anticipated.
Your whole life, you'd been smarter than everyone around you even without trying. It was just a given that you were better. So you never could've predicted that you'd have to break a sweat just to keep up with him. For the first time in your life, you were pulling all nighters, just raw dogging tests with no sleep, no sanity. You were frequenting the library so much, studying at all hours of the day and the night, that you had become good friends with the librarian. Her name was Himiko. She had two cats and loved Italian food. She was a sweetheart.
But even through all this struggling, you persevered. You got 100% on almost everything (with the occasional 99% that Hoshina would tease you about relentlessly until your next 100%). You were not about to let some scrawny, short-ass, bowl-cut wearing, squinty-eyed, nerd disrupt your whole plan.
You hated the way he laughed at you. It was loud and unhinged. And it was uninterrupted, nothing could stop him once he'd started. And the way that he smirked was so smug and unapologetic, you thought you might just hit him with your encyclopedia.
Your favorite class was debate, because then you could argue with him to no end and even win participation points for it. Of course, you'd argue with him for free, but it was significantly more fun to destroy him for a good grade. It was like a nice little treat to yourself, compensation for having to endure his cocky personality.
And you endured a lot. You had the unfortunate luck of knowing him better than you had ever wanted to, better than anyone else ever could know him or ever would know him. You knew what arguments he was going to use before he used them, you knew what energy drink he felt was more effective for his late night study sessions (you'd run into him so frequently at the library), you knew his poker face, his stressed face (you were surprised to discover that he actually got stressed, and you teased him incessantly about not being so superhuman after all), you knew which subjects were his favorite, which subjects were his least favorite, which classmates he liked and disliked. And you had always thought you were on the "dislike" list until one day you both ended up on the student council together.
It was the first time in this school's entire history that they'd ever had two student body presidents. Your grades were so even that it was hard to assign the role to just one person. Though, Hoshina would constantly introduce you as his vice president anyway. You'd get him back by telling people he hadn't even qualified for vice president, so he was stuck with the position of treasurer. No one knew who to believe, but everyone knew the two of you had an intense rivalry.
It was so intense, you almost thought you wouldn't be able to handle being in even closer proximity to him than you already were, but you refused to step down from the council and let him be the president, and of course, he wasn't stepping down anytime soon either. So the two of you spent even later nights together, poring over the school budget, planning out events, discussing new policies.
And eventually, to your shock, he admitted that he actually enjoyed spending so much time with you. He enjoyed the banter, he enjoyed your perspective, he enjoyed hearing your opinions even if he teased you that they were wrong, and he especially enjoyed the way you'd walk by a vending machine and think of him, then buy him a snack but -not wanting to let on that you cared- you'd chuck the bag of chips in his face, saying if the hunger didn't kill him first, you would.
And when he admitted these things to you, you were shocked to realize you felt the same. You liked the way he absentmindedly ran his hands through his hair when he was deep in thought. You liked the way his eyes settled on you when he was listening intently to your plans. You liked the way he always made your plans into a reality, shrugging and saying that it was no big deal and it was half his plan anyway.
You spent so much time together in school, that eventually it spilled over into your personal life, and suddenly he was visiting you at home. He'd bow to your mom, shake your dad's hand, wave to your little sister, and then run upstairs and collapse on your bed beside you. You'd stare up at the ceiling and talk for hours, until he'd decided to tickle you, to which you responded by shoving him off the bed.
And then you'd eat dinner together, study together, and just keep living life together.
It was hard to believe that just a couple months ago, you were butting heads, clawing at each other's throats. But it was even harder to think about living without him anymore.
And suddenly, all those plans you had for your college life, all those goals and lofty ideas, none of them mattered as much anymore. Your only plan at this moment was to enjoy your time with him, and pray it never stopped.
138 notes · View notes
peaches2217 · 1 month ago
Text
Mario has ADHD. He was the kid in school who always got into trouble because he’d shoot spit wads and fly paper planes during class. Homework couldn’t keep his attention at all, no matter how simple; a five-question paper could take him three or four hours to finish because he just couldn’t focus. He’d do stupid shit just for fun, or just to make others laugh, without considering the consequences — “Wanna bet I can jump out of the swing when it’s way high up and stick a superhero landing?” (He could not.)
Kids, as a general rule, tend to be reckless and restless and all that jazz; unlike Luigi, who was singled out for being so quiet and easily scared, Mario was considered “the normal brother,” because at that age he wasn’t outwardly much different than anyone else. A bit of a problem child, if anything, but easy to brush off with a misguided but well-meaning “Boys will be boys.”
Now, on top of his neurological condition, Mario has a physical condition too: hypochondroplasia. To the unaware, it’s a growth disorder, a form of dwarfism that shortens the arms and legs, affects the joints and posturing of the spine, makes the hands and feet broad but the toes and fingers short, etc. Symptoms typically begin showing during early childhood and become more pronounced as the person grows.
The older he got, and the more obvious his symptoms grew, the more heavily bullied Mario was. Normally, when he stepped in to stop the other kids from picking on Luigi, they would back off. By the second grade, they stopped backing off and merely redirected their focus onto Mario. It wasn’t just comments about his physical attributes, either: now that he’d been marked an “other” for his different appearance, everything else about him came under fire. His flightiness, his hyperactivity, everything that had once been accepted by his peers as “normal” was now worthy of mockery, all because he no longer looked just like everyone else.
He took it in stride, all things considered — if a kid was too busy making fun of him to make fun of Luigi, he considered that a win! But he was still just a kid. He wanted what any kid wants: acceptance, respect, friendship. The bullying got under his skin, and as his brother’s self-appointed protector, he didn’t even have the luxury of expressing his hurt, because he had to be strong and fearless or else what good was he? What’s a kid to do?
Overcompensate, of course. If he was going to be cast out anyway, then he’d go the extra mile and become faster and stronger and more powerful than anyone else, and then no one would mess with him or his bro again! So around the age of eight or nine, he dove head-first into the world of physical activity and undertook any and every sport he was given the chance to try.
It’s among the best decisions he’s ever made in his life. Even before his muscles and heart rate and stamina began reaping the benefits of all that activity, he could feel change.
The high-demand-high-adrenaline bursts helped him burn off excess energy, and suddenly he was sleeping better than he’d ever slept in his young life. He had goals to focus on with each sport he tried, but with that focus came tactile stimulation: the wind in his hair, the pounding of his feet against the ground, the rubbery textures of basketballs and baseball bat grips. As he grew stronger and faster and more powerful, he started receiving the admiration of his peers once more… but by the time that happened, he no longer cared what his peers thought of him. Sports and PE helped ground him, gave him a sense of self and purpose unlike any he’d experienced before.
Sure he wasn’t great in school, and sure his recklessness could get the best of him, but he could master any sport he set out to try, and he could intimidate bullies with increasing ease and better protect himself and his brother, and that was worth more to him than any superficial approval. That’s something he’s carried into adulthood, and something he’s eternally grateful for.
134 notes · View notes
shirefantasies · 9 months ago
Text
How Many Kids Do They Want? LoTR Edition
This is just a headcanon set I like to think about because I love little ones & think all of the characters would make great parents in their own way 🥰 I definitely am going to expand on this in the future but for now enjoy!
Aragorn
He wants to bring a life into the world, but only under good circumstances. When the time comes, he favors a small family he can focus on- one child is enough for him. As much attention as he can possibly give goes to his little one that way, no resentment, no competition, all of the time in Aragorn’s world to spend with those dearest. Despite the pressure to have a son, he is happy to have either a son or a daughter as long as they are happy and healthy and provided for. Aragorn’s child will grow up with an amazing guide to do what is right and care for their friends and family, not to mention learning Elvish and many skills to survive outdoors if need ever arises.
Legolas
Open-minded for sure, but I think he actually leans toward a larger family. No extreme amount, but four or five sounds good to him! Legolas is very caring, patient, and even has a playful side that all lend well to spending time with wee ones. No strong preference on sons or daughters, Legolas cares more for smiling faces and fair hearts. He pretends to be competitive with his children to motivate them, but always caves and lets them win in the end! They’ll all become amazing archers if he has anything to say about it.
Boromir
Having a big family warms Boromir's heart. He wants to be different from his father, carve out space for each and every child individually. Having a big family shows in his mind how much he loves his spouse and can provide for everyone, too. Boromir is definitely the type of dad whose children just come barreling toward the door upon his return home, rocketing into his arms as he manages to catch them all! If you ask him, Boromir's ideal family size would be four or five children. He loves the idea of having a son or sons to train up, but really doesn't want to miss out on having beautiful daughters too, so his hope is for a mix of both. Constantly encouraging his sons and praising every achievement at their passions. The girls are ladies of Gondor and nothing shall take that from them, least of all their father, who is always joining their tea parties and letting them take turns as queens knighting him and each other.
Gimli
Dwarves tend to have smaller families, whether that is by choice or happenstance. Gimli enjoys the idea of having three children, a moderate amount, and of course he really would love a son. He wants a mini-me as they say, a small reflection of himself to share all his favorite things with and teach to defend all that is important to him. Daughters are less common among his people, thus of course they are of great value and would be a blessing were he to have any as well. Gimli would constantly be hyping them up and reminding them that they are worth so much, any man in their life had better treat them so or else!
Frodo
If he were to have children, Frodo favors a smaller family. Growing up, it was just him and his uncle for as long as he remembered, and he likes the idea of being able to focus more on his child. Thus, his perfect family size if you ask is simply one or two children. In his mind there’s something about having a son, perhaps a mirror to his own youth or someone to impart his lessons into in the sense that feels most traditional to his family dynamic, but the idea of having one of each makes him so happy- Frodo’s little girl would have him wrapped around her finger!
Sam
I know I said at one point Sam only wants like three but that’s because I didn’t realize he canonically has so many forgive me. We all know Sam loves the idea of having a big family! Canonically he’s even down to have thirteen children, but of course he is fine with a smaller number too. Just definitely more than one, at least three or four. Sam has so much love to give and he adores bringing life into the world and nurturing it more than anything. Every little one is their own unique person he loves to foster and dote on. He wants some of each of course, but just loves the idea of having little girls especially!
Merry
Really wants one of each. His family will feel like a full package that way and he wants every type of experience he can have, walking a daughter down to her wedding and letting her dress him up and playing games with his son. Teaching both of them how to stand up and fight for themselves, of course! Merry is so the type who wants a mini version of both him and his spouse if he can have it. Would make so many jokes about the little clones and just melt for the child who looks like his partner. Regardless of who she looks like, his little girl has his exact smile and you'll always catch them making it at each other before the next moment of teasing and mischief!
Pippin
Wants so many kids. Five to ten, no problem. Numbers aren’t his concern so long as he can be involved with each and every one of them. Just the type who wants his family to be a small army! Definitely wants to experience having sons and daughters, but statistically he’s going to anyway at his rate! So good at getting down to their level and having the greatest time with them, but also showering them with love and calming words and learning their needs by actually listening. Just Pippin and his little army of fellow neurodivergent sweethearts all with different passions and gifts and special interests.
Faramir
Willing to concede to his partner especially if that’s who actually bears the children. Faramir adores the idea of having a family, of doing everything differently than he experienced, of pouring true love and respect into a little soul doing their best, and that is where his happiness truly lies. A part of him likes the idea of having two sons as full atonement for his and Boromir’s difficult childhood, but even one would make him happy. He is so patient at explaining things to a young mind and his optimism comes out all the more when spending time with a little one- all the world’s beauty is that much brighter!
Eomer
Big family! More than a number he dreams of a boisterous, active home where no one is ever lonely. A warm hearth and the voices of children nearly ever-present. His heart swells as he imagines having one in each hand and plenty more all around him. Eomer, for whatever reason, has the number six in his head. Of course he wants sons, sons to train as fine riders and fighters, but his sister has proved to him that that future is not lost on Rohan’s maid either. He would be so much softer, gentler with his daughter(s), still showing her things like how to shoot an arrow or how he sharpens his blades but with greater care. Gathering everyone for story time is one of Eomer’s greatest delights.
Haldir
For much of his life, Haldir did not think about children, was uncertain that was a future he would even attain. Thus, as the time approaches for consideration he realizes he simply feels blessed by the prospect and is very willing to listen to his partner about their wishes. Granted, he does not wish to live beyond his means or in a way that he could not provide for all he needs to, but in general he is open. The beauty of Lothlórien grows with every new addition, every fair member of elfkind so he is happy with boy(s) or girl(s). He would teach his daughter(s) to walk with grace and uphold their ancient strength and remind his son(s) that honor and respect must center all their actions.
Eowyn
Traditional housewife ‘duties’ were never her desire. Thus, she does not want a large family, though the idea of raising a little life with her partner makes her happy. She only wants one child, maybe two so they can play together, and her family will feel complete. Any child(ren) of hers will surely be active, so she and her spouse will have their hands full with whoever! Strength is a matter of the heart, and Eowyn will raise a strong family no matter if they are male or female. She loves the idea of having a daughter or daughters to share her stories and triumphs with, though- future Shieldmaidens of Rohan!
Arwen
She wants to be able to focus on her family, so ideally not a huge one. Carrying on her legacy and having someone to care for with her partner, a living breathing proof of their love and commitment, is the most important part. She has never been too particular about if the child is a boy or a girl, just that she wants to be there for them and a calming, loving presence in their life as much as possible. So good at holding and reassuring them it’s like magic.
Elrond
Elrond is patient, steady, and he likes to take his time both with his children and between having them. He is happy with a smaller or average-sized family, two or three children. That way he can spend his time, care, wisdom, on them all and lavish Rivendell’s resources on them in different ways. Perhaps they are interested in the rich history, the weapons of old, the art, textiles, the sheer natural beauty of the location. Whatever it may be, he will offer it to them so long as they use it well and with respect. It appeals to him to have one of each, but we all know he would have a soft spot for his daughter!
Lindir
All I can picture is twin dad Lindir. Don’t ask me why, all I know is this man elf has his hands full with a baby on each side. Exasperated but lovingly shaking his head as the two identical little elves/half-elves try to convince him they are their sibling again! Or even having one of each on one fell swoop, teaching them both their favored instrument and singing with them! Lindir doesn't mind so much whether he is to have sons, daughters, each, so long as his children have the finest things in life and know that he shall always give them what he can.
Taglist: @kilibaggins @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart | Reply/Message/Ask to join!
340 notes · View notes
mr-ys-phantasma · 29 days ago
Text
🌙 Moon Phases 🌙
Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader
Word: 1175
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 4:
You followed everyone down the stairs, eventually ending up in the spacious basement existing beneath the house.
You glanced around, seeing the many piled up items and household appliances like a washing machine and a dryer. 
You suspected when Agatha had her powers, that place was her lair; her witchy basement as the cliché media would call it. You also had one, though yours was mostly a storage for your crystals and trinkets and some star maps you had hand drawn.
One would be surprised what ways you had found to spend your rather prolonged life on.
Mrs Heart or better say Sharon, your supposed Green With, remained clueless as ever while looking around at the slightly dark but ordinary basement.
"So, um, are we doing laundry together?" She asked, looking from the washing machine to the witches in the room.
Agatha realised the boy was still with them and cleared her throat, earning his attention. "Why don't you head upstairs and let us just do our thing, okay? She asked, trying to sound at least a little bit nice so he would not argue.
He did try, but in the end, he gave up, realizing he was not going to win this argument. Though if he could be honest, he hadn't won any of the other arguments either.
"Okay, but you'll let me know..." he commented, trying to remain positive and not think the women would dump him behind.
"Yep. Yeah. Scoot. Scoot."
You watched him go up the stairs again, your gaze lingering on his retreating form for a moment longer than you wanted.
You could not help but shake this feeling, that there was something more about him. It also settled wrong the idea that Agatha kept him around because that was not like her.
Yet again, this could all be your buried jealousy at the fact that you might have been replaced. Or worse, that boy had some connection to her; a sign that she had found someone else to love, worship, and spend her time with...
Someone else that was not you.
"Sugar," her voice bypassed the rising waves crashing against the walls you had lifted around your heart. 
You graced her with your attention, realizing the others were already standing in a circle around the drawn symbol of a door on the floor beneath them. 
Agatha kept your gaze, a silent and passive act to ensure you were okay. She never showed her worry a lot or in ways you would expect, rather all being subtle and too quick to dismiss.
Yet you learnt to understand and notice them, appreciate the lengths she would go to try and show her concern without ruining her projection of the cold-hearted woman to the others.
Ironically, you were rather similar.
There were times your actions and replies were cold, any warmth lost. And other times, your actions were sweet and passionate, going the extra mile to show your concern and care. .. and love.
You took your place right by Agatha's right, a small distance between you and her. On your right was Lilia; who was observing you a little too much and yet said nothing.
As if her thoughts were forbidden to be spoken out loud, her theories and questions too sensitive and dangerous to be brought up.
You didn't chase it either, for there were more important things to focus on; like opening the door to the road before your time was up.
That howl you had heard before was a mere warning of what was coming, and it was too close for your liking.
"So, all we need to do is sing the Ballad, and a door will appear, and we'll be on our merry way to having all of our magical dreams come true" Agatha explained to the other witches. "Okay? All aboard?"
Of course, Jen had to comment yet again. "So, who's going high?" She asked, earning an eyeroll from Agatha.
Sharon looked at her, confused. "Oh, no, thank you. I don't take drugs."
You let out a sigh and chose to help with the situation. "She's talking about the harmonies." You explained.
"I'm an alto is all I'm saying."
"Ladies," Agatha drew everyone attention on her, having grabbed an old summoning bell. "Shall we start?"
There were no more arguments, a sign that everyone was ready.
You looked at Agatha, who gently tapped the bell, and its sound vibrated across the silent room and through your very own core.
Then she started to sing, being one again the one to lead the ritual.
~ Seekest thou The Road
To all that's foul and fair
Gather sisters fire
Water, earth, and air  ~
~ Darkest hour, wake thy power
Earthly and divine
Burn and brew
With coven true
And glory shall be thine ~
You could not help but stare at her and hear her melodic voice, gently carried across the room without much of an effort.
You always found her singing voice as enchanting and commanding as her real one, something you often could have a hard time resisting.
Sometimes, she would gently hum a tone after an eventful night while you laid your head on her lap, and she gently passed her long expert fingers through your hair.
It often impressed you how those fingers could find different ways to either make you beg, moan or just lullaby you to sleep, always accompanied by that bewitching voice that you could never forget or even get out of your head.
At last, your part came and along with the other witches continued singing the Ballad; your voices mixing in a haunting tune, the words of the song always a warning of what you would all face down the Road.
Even Sharon, who at first only watched, ended up singing along; carried by the melody that both existed in your hearts and in your magical cores.
As you glanced around, hands touching and holding; you sang without much thought. Your mind drifted to a memory, the first time you and Agatha tried the road.
You had stood in similar formation, though instead of a basement; you were in the middle of the woods. Red and yellow leaves had been pushed o the side, giving you a clean patch of dirt to draw the figure of the road.
You all had sang with the same passion, the full moon above you lightning exactly the door, and you could all see the white lines glowing with power are you summoned forward the door to glory and death. 
~ Down, down, down The Road
Down the Witches' Road 
Follow me, my friend
To glory at the end ~
The song came to an end, and you could feel the magic in the room, your own magical core vibrating with power and life.
And yet, when you opened your eyes and let go of the hands you were holding; you realised the door was not glowing nor had it manifested.
It remained a simple chalked drawing, earning both disappointment but also confused looks at the failed attempt.
Chapter 5
93 notes · View notes
emilsgrippers · 5 months ago
Text
Today, TDI Tumblr, I’ve come to rant about Alejandro and how YOU GUYS TREAT HIM.
This is Alejandro. (And his girlfriend Heather, say hi Heather)
Tumblr media
Alejandro is 18, allowing him to just BARELY pass as a young adult. Despite him still being so young, he is often sexualized due to his looks and personality.
This is not cool.
Most of his fans who sexualize him in this way will alter his personality to further push the typical Spanish lover stereotype onto him (I’m aware this is what he’s based on), however, he’s more than that!
He’s very intelligent, and he’s good at mostly everything. He’s not just Spanish lover who takes his shirt off and dips you while holding a rose inbetween his teeth.
In Alejandro’s lore, he has two brothers, José and Carlos. Carlos is the oldest, José is the middle child, and Alejandro is the youngest.
Little is known about Carlos, but José is well known, and Alejandro rants about him on a few occasions. He explains how José pretty much bullied him his whole life, by punching him in the arm and calling him something he hates being called ‘Al’.
Since it went on for..his whole life, and even resumed when we see José in TD:AS, it’s easy to deduct that his parents do nothing to stop this.
Now, Alejandro was always kind of the lesser brother, if that makes sense. José was always better, always more, always just overshadowing him in a humiliating manner.
So, Alejandro was taught to use his looks to get what he wanted, since, with José around, it was really all he had going for him. (That’s another part of why he doesn’t eat any junk food).
Hence why he manipulated half off the TDWT cast and then revealed himself to have sinister intents to eliminate everyone else. Of course he only wanted to win, but, do you want to guess why he wanted to win so bad?
To prove he was better than José!! Wow!! Before his tie breaker with Cody, Alejandro , in the confessional, says something about José at home seeing him tie with someone like…Cody. Alejandro says José will already have his insults ready before face palming sadly.
that’s just a quick debrief ^_^
Now! Thats everything about him really. But here’s what the fandom reduced him too
“Daddy? Sorry Daddy?” “He could get it!!” “I could take him (not in a fight)”
I’ve seen all of these commented on Alejandro posts…yikezzz…
Now, does he look good? Yeah, he does! (But Blaineley is right there) But not to the “I need to sexualize him and drawn him in lewd poses, positions and outfits!” Kind of way. Remember, he’s just 18.
(“18= adult so!!—“ he’s just 18)
And mostly everyone else just gives him the “mi amor” treatment.
He calls her ‘mi amor’ ONCE. During the world tour finale, and that makes sense considering it’s between a heartfelt confession and a make out session. He never carries her bridal style while calling her mi amor. He does do countless loving things for her, like using the immunity idol to have her eliminated!
But carrying her in his arms and calling her mi amor never happened. It never happened with..ANYONE? He holds Heather bridal style for one challenge..where she was a bride.
He would NOT call you Mi amor, guys. Maybe carry you? But he’d call you by your name. Maybe a nickname? But not Mi amor. ‘If he did it once—‘ in between a heartfelt confession and a make out session does he ever just see her and go “hi mi amor… *wink..!” NO he doesn’t
Also!! He’s not a CREEP.
I see so many people say “he probably rewinded (whatever episode Heather accidentally lost her top in) so many times 🫣” no I don’t think he did..!
That’s a double whammy! Why sexualize one (practical) minor…when you could sexualize two?!!!
Plus it’s just gross..it’s disgusting what you’re implying by saying he rewinds it all the time.
In conclusion, I’m gatekeeping him and you need to bring me a legal document proving you’ll be aloud to use him in any bit of media from now on. Using his name is now prohibited unless what it says above comes into account. Thank you
143 notes · View notes
multifandomworldsposts · 4 months ago
Text
My Boxer
pairing: WWE!harry styles x fem!reader
warning: yelling, hickeys, making out, eating out, riding, unprotected sex, getting caught
Tumblr media
Y/N’s POV
Harry Edward Styles, the most famous boxer that’s out there. And here’s me, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, Harry’s girlfriend almost fiancé. His fans think I’m just a groupie because there would be a lot of them at the stadiums seeing Harry or the other fighter.
One day, our worlds went downhill…
“All you fucking do is fight!” I yell at Harry.
“Because that’s my job Y/N!” He points at himself.
“You’re insane Harry! You’re insane!” I continue to yell.
“Me? I’m insane? You’re the one that hates every fucking thing I do!”
“That’s not true!”
“That photo shoot with those models, you hated that shit!”
“Harry! One of those models was flirting with you! That’s why I hated it!”
The way Harry looks at me, he knows I’m telling the truth.
“You’re such a liar!”
“You’re the liar Harry!” I point at him.
“Why is that huh?”
“Harry, I saw her looking at you and giving you a look that any groupie would give anybody who's in a sport."
"Groupies?"
"Yes! Most of your fans are groupies!"
"Y/N, I- No Y/N!"
I gather my things and try to leave but Harry tries to stop me.
"Harry, do you love me?"
"Of course I love you. Listen, I don't give a shit about any model, groupie, or anyone else, I love you more than anything. Why do you have an engagement ring on your finger?"
"Because you love me."
"Exactly honey. I won't give anyone the look I give you every time I see you in the crowd when I win." Harry holds my face.
"You mean that?"
"Y/N, you mean the world to me."
I give Harry a kiss and he kisses me back.
“I love you, okay? I love you so much, everyone in our lives knows it.” He still holds my face to look at him.
I nod. Of course, I love him, it's just I get paranoid sometimes.
A WEEK LATER
Harry has a boxing tournament on Friday, and he really wants me to come to see him but something is going on in my family's life, so I have to go to my grandma's house to talk about it, but I know Harry will be pissed but my grandma's health is more important.
"Are you sure that you're not going to the tournament? You know it's so important to my career." Harry says.
"I know that Harry, my grandma's health is so important right now!" I get angry.
"I know honey! It's just I want you to see me."
"We can just watch you on my grandma's TV, she's important to my family at this point, she broke her back a few weeks ago and I want to hear where she's going at this point, Harry!"
"Fine, go see her I don't care," Harry said but in a defeated way.
"Harry," I said.
"No, go see her. Her health is way more important than my boxing match." He said.
I can't believe he said this to me. He knows that she's having trouble walking, and my family and I are going to help her.
FRIDAY
I'm at my grandma's nursing home and we put Harry's boxing tournament on and he's losing. I can tell my family looks disappointed, I mean I am too.
"Y/N, go see Harry." My grandma says.
"What?" I look at her.
"Go see Harry, Y/D/N told me about the argument you two had, and I want to see him. I'll be fine Y/N."
"Are you sure gram, I mean I wanted to come see you," I said.
"Go see Harry." She said holding my hand.
I look at my family and they agree with what she's saying, I kiss her on the cheek, and she hugs me, I go up to my family and they hug me back, I'm going to see Harry.
I get to the stadium and the security brought me to my seat. I see Harry looking beaten up. He notices me and I see him looking relived. He gets back on his feet and started to do the last round, he starts fighting, he getting a lot better. I get kinda scared because I'm scared he might lose.
He wins! I jump up and down and scream his name. He looks at me and smiles, he's so happy already. He runs up to the section I'm sitting at and when got to me, he picks me up and kisses me all over my face, I giggle.
"I'm so glad you came." Harry says hugging me.
"My grandma wanted me to be here. My family and I were watching the fight and they noticed that you were having trouble so my grandma wanted me to come here." I confess to Harry looking at him.
He smiles, "Your family loves me."
"I know they do, they talk about you all the time." I smile.
He chuckles, we kiss again and I hear screaming, I look up to see us on the Jumbotron, I hide my face in his chest and I can feel him laughing and then we hear, 'Kiss your girl Harry!' in the stands, everyone laughs, Harry and I kiss again but we kissed for a long time. I totally forgot that people were cheering around us by how long kissed.
After the fight, Harry and I went backstage to celebrate his win with his crew.
"Another win, another victory!" John yells with a can of beer in his hand.
Everyone in the room cheers, Harry kisses my temple and I wrap my arms around him. I hope my family is happy about this win.
Harry and I go somewhere private to talk things out about some of our fights.
"Y/N, I'm sorry for how I acted a few nights ago, I was stressed about the whole boxing match and I know your grandma's health is important right now." He says while holding my hands.
"It's okay H, I know you were stressed, it's just I feel bad for yelling at you a week ago about your fans and everything, I know about your fans and I've met them with you, most of them are kids." I crest his cheek.
"It's okay baby." He makes me get closer to him.
He looks around and whispers to me, "Wanna do something?"
"Like what?" I whisper back.
He crests my thigh and I grab his hand away from me.
"Harry!" I whisper yell. "Someone can come in any second."
"Then let's give them a show." He wraps my legs around his waist.
He takes us to the nearest wall and begins to make out with me, I try to not moan and scream very loud. I feel him giving me hickeys all over my neck, which makes me moan and giggle at the same time. I tug on his hair and I can feel him smirking on my neck and then he begins to kiss me again.
Harry sets me down so we can take our clothes off and I see some scratches on his shoulders.
“What’s this from?” I point to the scratches.
“You.” He smirks.
I get confused on what’s he’s talking about.
“Remember last Thursday night?” He asks.
I think about it, now I remember that night, he was a little too rough for me.
“Now you remember?” He whispers into my ear.
“You were too rough baby.” I tug his hair a little.
“You want me to be rough again?” He says making us do nose to nose.
I look up and down at him for a bit until I grab his face to make out with him. He grabs me to take us to the floor and I continue to kiss him passionately until he stops kissing me, I whimper, he starts to kiss my body, I gasp and fluff his hair and then he starts to kiss my inner thigh and looks at me with lust. I heavily breathe while looking down at him, and then he begins to eat me out. I lay down and arch my back and I scream but I try to keep myself quiet but Harry keeps going. He puts my right leg on his shoulder but continues to eat me out. I climax and I feel his tongue on my cunt.
“You’ve been a good girl Y/N/N.” He says looking up at me.
“Only for you.” I heavy breathe.
He smirks again and sets my leg on the floor and crawls up back to me and kisses me again. I moan into our kiss. I can feel him wanting to fuck me so I stop kissing him and allow him to enter my cunt and he fucks me. We go in a normal pace but then he goes in a slow pace by him giving me hickeys all over my chest. I giggle and tug on his hair.
“You want me to ride you honey?” I ask him while he’s sucks my left nipple.
“Are you sure Y/N/N? I just fucked you and ate you out, I don’t know if you want to ride me tonight.” He says looking down at me.
I moan, “We’ve done it before H, remember last time?” I get a strand of his hair away from his face.
He thinks about it and then he takes himself out of me which made me gasp and he lays down so I can sit on him.
I giggle and I position myself so I ride his cock. He groans by my pace and helps me out with guiding my movement. I gasp and look a bit at the ceiling and look down him, looking like a mess.
“Hey Har- OH MY GOD!” Mark yells and shields his eyes.
Harry and I try to cover ourselves. “Get out of here Mark!” Harry yells.
Mark closes the door so quickly.
“I’m sorry Y/N/N for him to come in to see us like this.” Harry looks terrified.
“It’s okay baby, besides, I rather do this at home, where no one can open the door and sees us looking this.” I whisper in his ear covering my body with his t-shirt.
He gives me a little smile, I giggle and kiss him again.
“You wanna take shower and probably go back to where the crew is at?” I ask Harry.
“Wanna do round two?” He smirks again.
“Harry!” I playfully slap his bicep.
“Oh come on, I’ll help you with your body and you can help me with mine.” He sits up and says to me.
I stand up but I almost fall down and Harry catches me and carries me bridal style to the shower and god only knows what’s gonna happen in the next 20 minutes.
97 notes · View notes