#i GET that we all want the world to be clear cut into good guys and bad guys and moreso in our stories | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

last-words-ofashootingstar · 9 months ago

Text

Allure

Part One:Sunshine

❥MATZ x fem reader

Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa. The most known and feared alphas of the new generation. It took two dozen elder alphas to subdue them and stick them in the world's most secluded prison- hidden away in the mountains. The prison that sweet little omega (Y/n)'s works at.

Knuckle Velvet (Part Two)

Smoke (Part Three)

➯a/n: i've always wanted to write a story i would like to see as a movie or show, and i very much enjoy supernatural and dark romance, so i made this ! it does get very dark so please read the warnings and take care of yourself first and foremost. i am very proud of this, i hope you enjoy 💕

✃ "Because you're... alluring."

✫彡wordcount: 9.3k

♫"Hey, you should leave that young thing alone, ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday." - Flower Face (original by Bill Withers) ♫ Allure Sountrack

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au

ಠ_ಠWARNING/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BIH

chapter specific: literally what have i done, not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forget everything you know about werewolves, so much world building, extremely yandere behavior, talk of attempted child murder, class division of werewolves, panic attacks, vulgar language, mind control, lots of scent stuff, unhealthy relationships, ptsd, flashbacks and nightmares, physical violence, manipulation of others dreams, supporting character death, forced soul bonding, forced marking, reader implied to have mental health issues, murder, gore, violence- all that good stuff. THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC ALL EVENTUAL SMUT WILL BE CONSENSUAL.

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

˚➶ ｡˚ PART ONE ˚➶ ｡˚

You hate weekdays. That much is true for a lot of people. You like to think your reasoning is especially valid.

Every Monday through Friday like clockwork, 6:30AM you walk into the prison. That on its own wasn't so bad. You lived only ten minutes away; the gothic building looked over your village in tandem with the mountains. You could see it when the weather was clear, even from your bedroom on the edge of town. You were no longer afraid of it like when you were a child.

You are, however, afraid of the newest prisoners.

New arrivals didn't usually rock you. This is the only prison in the country fit to hold lycans, after all. They all got transferred here eventually. From beta's who were just stealing to eat, to alphas who used their powers on humans, to those who believed in the old ways and fed on humans.

You had to interact with them all face to face.

You weren't excited for that particular aspect of your job this week.

You made your way through the double doors and greeted the security guard, your friend Hyolyn, as you went through the metal detector. It went off on account of the scent blocker that was embedded in your neck. She chuckled and switched it off so it stopped its incessant beeping.

"Don't laugh at me!" You threw a smile her way as you got your small purse from the plastic bucket she slid towards you. She doesn't bother to check your bag. She knows you well enough to know you wouldn't bring in any "fuck shit", as she would say. "You alpha's don't have to worry about accidentally spewing scent everywhere."

"Thank goodness for that, this place would stink to high heaven." Her unintentional reference to the new arrivals makes the air turn stiff. She could tell you were on edge immediately. "They aren't all that scary," she lays a comforting hand to your shoulder as you fiddle with the long strap on your crossbody bag.

"I heard one of them killed Alpha Greene... you think that's true? That guy was huge, I saw him at The Thing last year, I almost peed myself cause he looked at me-" You stop your own rambling, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a shaking sigh. "I don't want to go in there. Honestly, why can't we install a laundry chute or something, fuck."

"I'll follow you up, I c-"

"No, no, it's visiting day. You need to be down here. You know Chungha? Her daughter is visiting today. Don't want you to miss her." You offer a sad, tight lipped smile, but that doesn't trick her instincts to protect her weaker pack member. She knows you too well to be tricked.

"You just scream and I'll be there. Either of those cocky fucks lift a pinky in your direction and I'll gut them. They don't deserve to see a trial anyway."

A small exhale in the form of a chuckle lightens her protective instincts, she can tell you feel more at ease with her promise to be right there at the slightest hint of trouble.

"See you, Hyolyn."

"Later, babes."

You wave your fingers with a smile as the elevator doors slides shut. As soon as they clunk together, you let it fall and crouch with your head in your hands, taking in deep and slow breaths as you try and force all of the rumors you've heard about the two newest inmates away from your head.

The older alpha of the duo was the first born in this generation. They're always powerful. But he was born to two bloodthirsty rouges. Born in sin and blood lust.

The younger alpha was born just some months after, to an arranged marriage that was purposefully formed to make powerful children. They surely regret that now. Some say the man has the strongest, sharpest claws since the first lycan in Talbot Castle.

When the elevator dings, you're already upright and have that strong facade on that you put on when you're clocked in.

˚➶ ｡˚

You start with the familiar. "Hey, Chungha," you tap on the silver bars of her cell, "hand 'em over." She smiles as she stands, stripping the sheets from her cot and holding them through the bars for you. "Thank you," you draw on with a tug on your lips that matches hers.

"Yunnie in town?"

"Mhm," you hum as you fold the blanket before dropping it in the large basket on wheels, "she came over for stew, I made sure to feed her good and well, don't worry."

You know it was probably problematic, but you couldn't help it. Chungha came here three years ago on a charge for battery, and over those three years you became sort of friends with her.

The battered in her case was her grandfather. When her five year old daughter, Jiyun, started to show signs of being an omega- he left her in the snow to wither away. She managed to survive until her mother came home, and said mother was furious.

She was lucky she didn't charged with attempted manslaughter.

"She said she'll be here first thing."

"Thank you," she had a heavy pull on her voice. You don't have the emotional connection to other wolves like an alpha or beta did. But it was clear to anyone she was being sincere. "You're a good woman."

"Don't mention it, Yunnie is good company. Oh," you start to wheel the basket away when you remember something. You reach into the purse that you had set on the handles. "She made this at art class, asked me to give it to you so it didn't have to wait in processing."

It was a small, cruelly made ceramic bowl in the vague shape of a heart. It was clearly made by an eight year old, but made with love.

"I owe you."

"Just keep working on that parol work." You said lightly and blew a kiss as you moved to the next cell.

The rest of your work nearly cleared your mind as you went from cell to cell, floor to floor. Omega's were on the second floor. Beta's on the third. Alphas on the fourth. High security on the fifth.

It's on the fourth level that you begin to feel those nerves that you had just worked away. The scent was becoming stronger. They didn't put them on blockers? Maybe they didn't think it would be worth it. Everyone knew that they were the worst of the worst, they didn't even try to hide it. They would undoubtedly be put to death. Why waste two perfectly good, expensive, blockers?

The basket of used sheets is nearly full, accumulating into a weight that makes you put your back into it as you push it into the elevator.

Your index finger reaches out, and before you can stop yourself you've pressed the button to the fifth floor.

You blank out until the door opens again. Your teeth are eternally grateful for the gum between them so they don't grind themselves into dust. The mint flavor does little to calm your nerves.

The only thing that makes you come back to your own head is Changbin. He's a big, buff beta with a gun full of silver bullets on his work belt. He won't let them hurt you. His smile washes away a lot of the nerves.

But the growl that rumbles against the walls makes them return ten, one hundred, one thousand fold. You don't dare say a word. A deer in headlights until Changbin places his hand on the small of your back. "Go on, don't give them the satisfaction of scaring you. They aren't going nowhere no time soon. Take a look."

He motions you deeper into the hall, florescent lights buzzing above you, matching the jittering feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach. It smells too strong. Too much. You're about to fall to your knees from the weight and you haven't even come face to face with the near feral criminals.

Changbin opens the doors at the end of the hall.

They've definitely gone all out to keep them in place. Two large cages placed next to each other in the middle of the enormous room. Made of pure silver and wrapped in wolfsbane. The unpleasant smell of the plant makes your nose twitch. A ring of blood ash surrounds it. Only omegas can pass through blood ash, and now you start to realize why they sent you.

You want to curse the warden, but the second you open your mouth, a loud cackle sounds out from one of the cages.

Changbin's hand twitches at the gun attached to his side.

"Oh wow," the smaller alpha chuckles, eyes closed, head tilted back, as he sniffs the air. "I didn't expect that." More manic giggles slip past his lips.

You haven't even looked up to see them and you want to cave in on yourself.

"What are you rambling about, huh?" The guard next to you shouts, making you flinch instinctively.

"That sweet... sweet, smell," he moans. You can hear him shuffling. "From a peppy little spit fuck omega."

You gasp abashedly, and now two laughs ring out. You want to wonder how they can smell you. Your insurance provides the best scent blocker in the country. But you're too scared to breathe, let alone think.

"Shut up," Changbin groans, he can feel you tense next to him, "don't piss me off, Kim."

"Awe," a new, rumbling voice makes you cower the second it reaches your ears, "this your mate? Hm, no... you wouldn't bring your mate here. You're not an idiot. Then, say... omega." You don't make a move to look when he addresses you, you stay looking at Changbins grip on his gun, silently.

"Omega, come!" Your feet move for you, and that manic laugh almost makes you wet yourself as you realize that your wolf is making you move toward them without your consent. You stop just outside of the blood ash, where you know you're safe.

"Changb-"

"No. I'm the one you're speaking to."

Changbin seems to be weighing his options, eyeing the men as they eye you.

"Why are you here? You a shrink?"

You shake your head.

"You a lawyer?"

Again.

"She works here, dumbass, look at her scrubs," the younger speaks, and you nod subconsciously, to which he giggles, "what can we do for a pretty little thing like you?"

When you refuse to speak, the guard does it for you. "She's here for your sheets today. Get used to her."

You hated that this was your job, but it was easy and accessible, and available for omegas. Werewolves are clean freaks. Every day you had a different cleaning task, but you didn't complain. Not until right now- you wanted to rip out the throat of whoever's idea it was to not shoot these criminals on sight.

"Ah," he hums, and you can feel his eyes raking your body. You can feel both of their eyes. "Not too bad of a sight to get used to. Huh, Hwa?"

"Mh, that's right... can't wait to get my hands on her."

Your head snaps back to Changbin.

"Awn, she thinks he's gonna help her!" The high pitched giggles bounce around in your head. "Oh, little omega~"

The saccharine coo finally pulls your eyes to the men in the cages.

If you thought you knew what fear was before this moment, you were wrong.

The two strongest criminals in the country, staring you down like a piece of meat. It doesn't matter that they are the ones in cages of silver and wolfsbane. You are the one who feels cornered.

You can immediately feel out their dynamics. The taller one is the older one, quiet and still in his cage as he sits in the center. Shaggy, shining hair framing his face and neck like an elegant piece of lace over a brides face. He has a sleeve of tattoos on one forearm, a thick tattoo on his neck. Eyes glowing a deep, blood red, as he tries to read your entire story with only a look in your direction.

The giggling one is less intimidating, only by a hair. Chemically lightened locks pushed back messily, letting his entrancing features shine in the light from the narrow windows high on the walls. He has tattoos as well, but they seem few and far between. His eyes are human for a moment before they meet yours. Instantaneously, they flick black.

The knot drops from your throat and you let out a small, pathetic, squeak.

Changbin breaks your staring contest with the alpha, shouting orders at them. "Take the sheets off your cot and set them outside of your cage. Do not attempt to touch her, I will shoot you."

Neither criminal makes a move to follow his orders, both simply staring at you.

A low growl is emitted when the older alpha finally snaps up, tearing the sheet off the sorry excuse for a bed in one fell swoop. The younger follows his lead, shoving their sheets through the bars that are wrapped in the poisonous flower.

You look to the guard, and he nods, "go." With his finger twitching at the gun ready to pull it, you jump over the dark red ashes and into the wolves den, snatching the sheets up as quick as possible and dashing away, out the door before they even get a chance to lock in your scent up close.

The giggles follow you all the way to the elevator and ring in your head even as the thick metal thunks shut.

As you take a deep breath, you notice the sheets are gripped to your chest, your claws drawn subconsciously in your panic and ripping them up. "Shit!" You let out a curse and shove them into the bottom of the basket so you don't have to smell it as closely on the long ride to the basement.

˚➶ ｡˚

The lingering wafts of your fresh scent are long gone, nothing to distract the alpha's from their caged boredom and bubbling rage over being caught. "I'll have that runts heart in my hands by the end of the month." Hongjoong groaned, to no one in particular- he knew Seonghwa was too deep in thought from their recent revelations. "Fucking back stabbers. They're more pathetic than a bitch in heat trying to get off with a dildo."

The thought hit his mind as soon as the words left his lips.

The thought of you, legs spread with your hand dipped low, trying to satisfy your primal urges and-

"Stop that." Seonghwa growls, kicking the bars of their shared 'wall'.

"Settle down!"

"Oh, like you weren't thinking it!" Hongjoong rolls his eyes, a scowl on his face as he crosses his arms. "Your ruts coming and you don't want your-"

"I said stop," he nearly roars, grabbing Hongjoong's state issued orange top and ripping it with his claws as he pulls him forward.

"I know you want her because I want her too." He whispers, smirking at the telltale signs of desire and bloodlust in his mates eyes. Red swirling around the brown of his human eyes. "Imagine how good she'll smell when we take out that stupid blocker. We'll be drowning in her scent." He moans, grabbing his wrist, "I get the honors, my claws are sharper, anyways," he draws them quickly, digging them into his skin as if to prove a point.

"I can use my teeth, mark h-"

"Oh, will you two stop? Love of God..." The guard in the large room slaps his book down on the rickety table. "What is there possibly for you to be fighting about? You're about to be executed, you know that right? No jury in the world will let you walk, especially the human half."

Their frustrations turn to the man, letting each other go. "Ah, you think so?" The older croons, dragging his index over his bleeding wrist and bringing it to his lips, sucking it clean before he continues. "We won't be around these parts long enough to meet the jury."

"What do you mean by that?"

Hongjoong covers his mouth when a laugh slips past. Seonghwa simply smirks as he sits cross legged, eyes locked with the guard as he licks his wound.

"What do you mean by that?!"

The blonde man breaks out in a fit of laughter. The brunette simply flashes his bloody canines in a twisted smile.

˚➶ ｡˚

You spent the whole time doing your daily tasks trying to hype yourself up to go back up to the fifth floor.

You usually went top down, four to one. Nobody has ever been on five before.

You go bottom up today, starting at Chungha with a full basket of freshly washed sheets. She prattles on about her visit with Jiyun, and how she's so thankful for you.

You choose that as your focus point for the rest of the work day, even as you press the button to the fifth floor.

You think back to the first time you spoke to Chungha, she was a crying mess, unable to sense that you were an omega like herself. She cried and cried and cried as you held her hand through the bars of temporary holding. She cried for her daughter, for cursing her with the shame of being the weakest link of any pack. When she looked up and saw your eyes, barely glowing, she cried more.

She apologized profusely, but you reassured her that her words were true, and you hadn't been offended. You told her that, in fact, she was the first to ever share your feelings of what being an omega really meant. It meant loneliness beside anyone but other omegas. Fake relationships born with people who only stuck around because of their primal instincts to either prey on you or protect you. It meant facing the fact that you were outcasts from both of the world's dominant societies. Outcasted from humans for being a werewolf. Outcasted from werewolves for being weak. So weak, in fact, that blood ash didn't even think of you as a wolf.

That night, you drove four hours to the next village over and looked after her daughter until her aunt had room. You remember the first thing the girl said to you. She didn't speak that whole day, surely in shock from the past few days events. But when you tucked her into the motel bed, she spoke as soft as a ghost, "sing me a song?"

You hum it to yourself now, the soft sound reverberating through the metal around you until the door opened.

You wheel the basket with you this time, like it will protect you as you approach the open doors, already feeling the unwavering gaze of the criminals.

"Hey, dolly~" Hongjoong, you had learned when you took a peek into their files, purred your way.

You didn't give him the satisfaction of responding verbally, but he saw the goosebumps on your arm as you reached into the basket, stretching on your tip toes to get the last two sheets.

"You never shut up do you, Kim?" The guard sighed with an exhausted tone, making you smile as you slowly made your way to the ring of red dust.

The throaty rumble from Seonghwa, the older, taller wolf, makes that smile drop to the depths of Hell.

The new guard seems to notice your anxiety, eyeing you up- in a much less predatory manner than the caged men. "Go on, 'mega. I'm watching them."

A bang on the metal bars makes you glue your foot right back where it came from. It's the blonde one, "you shut the fuck up!"

"No, you shut the fuck up! I'm the one with the silver bullets!"

All of the yelling is making you tremble, Hongjoong and the guard going back and forth. "She isn't your omega!"

"She ain't yours!"

Seonghwa watches with a sinister smile as you back away from the ash and the guard, calling to you quietly, "hey."

The soft tone of his voice makes you raise your eyes, but not your head. His eyes don't hold that threatening and dominating red from before. They're a soft brown color that reminds you of a beautiful dark oak in the morning sunshine. "What's your name?"

"(Y/n)..." your tongue moves without your consent, fresh blankets held to your work scrubs.

You desperately want the guard to notice this trance you're in, and grab you out of it. You want to do it yourself, but you can't do anything but admire the beauty of the criminal who has you hypnotized.

"You're a pretty omega, y'know? What color is your wolf?"

"Black..." It's a slur off your lips, barely registering in his sharply tuned ears over the yelling that continues to fill the room.

"Mine too. What's her name? His is Akma."

"Solis."

"Very pretty. Is she fast?"

"Yes."

"Does she want an alpha? A mate?"

"Yes."

The guard finally notices your raised gaze, affixed to the infamous, unlawful, man. He puts his gun back in the holster quickly before gripping your shoulder and forcing you to turn around. "You idiot, didn't anyone ever tell you not to look a first born in the eyes?"

"Sorry. I'm sorry." No one had ever told you that, actually.

Both of the criminals share a smirk as the man from your pack attempts to calm you. It wasn't hard for them to figure out you were an alpha-less village. They could smell every single wolf in five miles, and not a single stench from a wolf even nearly as strong as them.

There was, however, you. A honeyed smell that filled their guts with the primal need to rip out the eyes of anyone who dared look at you.

The guard couldn't be more wrong. You are their omega. You just don't know yet.

"Go and give these fucks their sheets, then get the hell out of here." The man shoved you, making you jump clumsily over the ash so you didn't break the seal.

He yells at them to back up, and they do so without a fight.

You shove them both in at the same time before running back out quickly, grabbing the empty basket and dragging it with you, the sound of the wheels scraping with the force of your panic echoing in the near empty room.

"You guys get off on scaring defenseless girls?" The guard scoffs, not expecting an answer as he drags the chair out of the room and slams the doors behind him.

Seonghwa lets his facade fall the second the door shuts, falling to his knees and grappling at the sheet like he's a starving man with the last piece of food on Earth. Hongjoong watches for a moment in confusion until the scent catches up with his weaker nose. Then he's quickly falling in the same position.

"It worked, the guard was so easy to distract," Hongjoong chuckles, face buried into the sheet that smells vaguely like you from your time spent holding it. "What did you learn?"

"(Y/n), a black wolf named Solis," he pauses, eyes rolled back as he takes a deep breath. They're red when they re-open. "No mate. It's really her."

"You think we should have told her?" Hongjoong inquires, looking through the bars.

He's never seen Seonghwa on his knees for anyone but him or the moon.

"No," he shakes his head, turning to lock eyes with him. "She'll figure it out when I mark her."

"When I mark her."

He rolls his eyes at his defiant nature, knowing full well he won't disobey his orders no matter how badly he wants to do something.

In a dog eat dog world, the strongest was the most powerful. Unlike their human neighbors, werewolves don't decide political or social standing by money or family name. They decide based on who comes out on top in a battle of the body and of the wits.

It had been determined years ago, when they were just young rebellious pups, that Seonghwa was the alpha. A fight in the woods under the moon had set it in stone between the two.

He could have ripped Hongjoongs throat out right then and there, but now, 13 years later in the present; they're bonded for life.

Sometimes he still sees Hongjoong as that 12 year old boy under his teeth, still snapping and growling even as he bled out with tears in his dark eyes, fighting to survive purely out of spite.

"You can mark her first," Seonghwa speaks quickly, turning his back as he puts the sweet smelling sheet on his cot.

He smiles at the man, a quiet thanks spoken through their bonded souls.

˚➶ ｡˚

Tuesday, they don't see you until much later in the day, but they bask in the sight of you opening the door with a broom and tray in hand, smiling at Changbin. You'll be here for a while, it's a big room.

"Hey, Binnie," you whisper to the beta, and Seonghwa has to bite his tongue.

Binnie? Ugh.

Hongjoong isn't so polite, "hey, Dolly! We don't get a hello?" You barely peek at him, eyes flicked from him right back to the floor in a millisecond. He knows you noticed his pout when he hears the smallest 'hello' tremble by your lips.

You start in the corner, headphones attached to your walkman with your favorite song on repeat to try and soothe yourself. Bill Withers calming voice blocks out every word of the teasing alphas, but you can still feel them mocking you and picking at you.

You don't dare sweep anywhere near the blood ash on the floor. One less precaution in place was one more thing to worry about.

"Bye, Binnie."

He does growl that time, eyes narrowed on your back until the door shuts.

˚➶ ｡˚

Wednesday, you have a frown on your face. "Three days in a row?" The guard Hongjoong got in a yelling match with, Merle, greets you as you come into the cavernous room, "bad schedule huh?"

"No kidding," you sigh, feet slightly hesitant to pass the dust border, "I'm here to fix your shirt. It's state property." You don't look at them, but they know who you're referring to.

They act like they don't, though. Just to hear more of your voice. To make you wriggle under their attention. "Sorry? What do you mean?"

You look and point to Hongjoong, his collar ripped from Seonghwas grasp. "State property."

"Ah, of course." He grins like a jackal, pulling it over his head and sticking his hand out of the bars just in the slightest. "On one condition."

You pout, eyes on the shirt which is just far enough away that you'd have to step closer. And it's the cutest fucking thing they've ever seen.

You look back up at him, silently asking. "Sit and talk with us. The guards here are no fun!" His laugh makes you jump back further, he sounds like a mad pirate.

You look over to Merle, who just shrugs, "just get it over with so these guys will shut up. They're only talkative around you, they need an audience for their antics."

"We won't bite," Seonghwa chuckles with his teeth exposed, making you shiver.

"Fine, give it here." You take a single step forward, palm out infront of the blonde.

When you grab it and go to race away like always, his claws wrapping all the way around your wrist stops you, sharp edges threatening to slice your skin down to the bone. You scream your head off, silenced when Seonghwa coos softly, "sit with us, and talk."

"Let me go..." you plead, eyes frantically flicking to Merle, whose gun is drawn to Hongjoongs head from the border of the ash, waiting for him to take one more wrong move so he can rid the world of one of its greatest criminals.

"Sit, omega." You do so, slowly lowering to the floor with your wrist and life still in Hongjoongs hand. "You have your sewing kit with you, I can hear the buttons hitting the needle. So sit, stay, and talk while you fix it."

Once again, they're the ones caged in. But you're the one who's stuck.

One look to Merle tells you he probably wouldn't help you even if he could get to you. He lowers his gun as your tailbone hits the concrete floor.

Your thin work scrubs do little to fight the cold of the old flooring, one reason of many that you shake as you reach into your purse and get the small tin box.

Hongjoong releases your wrist and sits mirrored to you, hands perched on the bars in the gaps of the purple vine flower wrapped on them. Seonghwa comes to the corner of his side of the split cage and breathes in deeply through his nose, eyes locked in on your every movement. "So you're essentially the errand lady? Maid?"

"Yes..." You murmur under your breath as your fingers work to thread the needle, slowly backing away until you're out of reach, but still stuck in the blood ash with no one to rescue should the men infront of you decide to rip their cages open. You only stop backing away when you hear a warning growl.

You don't care to see which it came from, you just want to do this as quickly as possible and get far, far, away. They could have chose anyone to focus their annoying efforts on. Changbin, Merle, the warden. But no, just your luck.

"You live in the village, right? Were you born here?" Seonghwa continues to do the talking as you carefully fix the shirt.

"Yes. And no."

A small hum from the one in front of you is a sign they want you to continue. "I was born to an overpopulated pack. They kicked me out when I turned eighteen. Our old alpha took me in." The hitch in your voice is a clear sign that it's a sore topic. And Hongjoong continues to poke the wound.

"How did they find you?"

"Woods."

"Woods?"

You can't help the small growl of frustration, lip curling as you look up. "Woods."

The reaction is one you wouldn't have expected from a normal person, but then- they aren't normal.

They laugh, cooing over your gesture of anger. Compared to them, you seem like a teacup puppy. "My, my," the brunette chuckles breathily, "is that Solis coming to play?"

"At least she can," you snap, sent to the back of your own head as your wolf tries to defend you, "she isn't a caged mutt."

Hongjoong breaks out into a manic fit of laughter, while his paramour is the opposite: his eyes flick red before your own, sharp teeth on display in a show of dominance over your smaller ones that are subconsciously bared at him. "Watch it, omega." He spits his words with venom, "I won't be so nice when I get out of here."

You rip the extra thread with your claw, kicking the shirt across the floor so it sits at the bottom bar of Hongjoongs cage. His chest still wracks with laughter, watching as you sit up in a low squat so you're still level with the alpha.

It's clear that you aren't currently you. Your wolf has control of your mouth and body, crouched in a position akin to that of a dog ready to pounce as you hiss your words, "I'm going to laugh in your face as you hang."

"Aw, is that how dear old alpha died?"

"Cut it out!" Merle screams disinterested, eyes glued to his flimsy magazine.

"I heard he got gutted~" Hongjoong giggles, watching the color flicking in your eyes.

"I'll gut you!" Your threat only makes him laugh more.

"(Y/n)!" The voice of Hylyon breaks your wolf away from you immediately, falling to your bottom and crawling to the sound unwittingly. "You fucking idiot, Merle!"

She reaches over the blood ash and pulls you over the ring, letting you collapse into her as she drags you away, still throwing profanities at the incompetent guard. Hongjoong is laughing loudly. Seonghwa yelling at you to come back. The elevator cuts of his roar, the last thing you see through your blurry vision is his fist making a dent in the silver cage.

You fall onto the floor of the metal box. Thoughts flood your head too quickly for you to swim though them, making you drown and try to escape by releasing the pain with tears. You don't even notice when your friend turns her key in the elevator to make it stop in its tracks, you only see her when she sits right infront of you.

"Babes, calm down, I've got you," she reaches out slowly and places a hand on your leg, slowly rubbing her thumb over your knee.

"I can't go back up there... they're too strong, they make me feel like I'm suffocating," you splutter through gasps, "I'm too weak!"

"Hey, hey, you're spiraling!" She opens her arms and pulls you into her, letting you sob into her uniform. "In and out, girl," she holds the back of your neck securely, almost instantaneously making you calm. "I got you... I got you..."

You sit there for a good while, crying into her shoulder as you sort through your wracked brains.

Your alpha was gutted. Right in front of you. Because of you.

Unbeknownst to you, their tuned ears are still listening in, the elevator stuck within their ear shot as you begin mumbling your favorite song to yourself through tears.

˚➶ ｡˚

The sound of claws slicing through the skin on your back rings in your ears. Though, you can't feel it. Your eyes are locked in on your own claws, dug into the hardwood floor of your humble home to keep yourself from being dragged.

You've been here a million times before.

Blood pooling off of your body and onto the frigid surface below you. Teeth sharp and bared to the moon though the open window, begging that she might let you survive. Eyes aglow with your instincts as your wolf tries with every fiber of her being to turn, but she knows it's no use.

The distorted voice above you drips with mocking venom, a chuckle as its owner realizes you can't even fight back like other wolves might: by letting your wolf fully transform.

The wind blows through your curtains, washes your body in the artic breeze. The snowflakes on your windowsill are so delicate, all of their features fade into a blurry mush as they make contact. They melt, dripping down your wall.

This time it's different.

You're turned over, gaping wounds slammed into the floor as always, but when you look up to your aggressor it's different.

His eyes aren't the yellow of a rouge, but the red of an alpha. His hair isn't that unruly blonde curl that you pulled at frantically, that you can still feel on your finger tips when your hands are unoccupied. It's long, shining, soft looking dark locks.

You fall through the floor into another time, another place.

Face first into the snow: your hands, shaking with adrenaline, do little to catch you.

You don't remember this.

This isn't right.

This isn't your nightmare.

You find yourself in a clearing in a forrest, the densely packed trees creating a bubble of nature around you. "(Y/n)?"

You whip around, coming face to face with an unfamiliar man. Almost face to face. If he weren't floating a few feet in the air.

His legs are crossed under him, hands facing palms up on his knees.

"Don't worry. You're only dreaming." He speaks calmly as he floats around you in a circle, like a shark examining its potential prey.

You follow him with your feral gaze, that familiar feeling of an adrenaline crash quickly approaching.

You know you're only dreaming. You've had that last dream more times than you can count in the past three years. It always plays the same. But not this time. You're only slightly thankful that you don't have to witness your alphas death again, but the gratefulness is overshadowed by confusion.

"Are you an angel?" You whisper, watching the man's soft and rounded features as he comes to a stop in the air in front of you and gracefully lowers to his feet.

"I can be, if that's what you want me to be. I'm only here to watch your dreams, fight off the nightmares."

"Why?" You feel distant from your body, watching powerlessly as your hand takes his, letting him lead you out of the clearing and into the darkness of the woods.

It disappears around you, warping into a spring day on a familiar path.

"A favor for a friend."

With the snow gone, you're in your spot, your old towel on the dewy grass with a book laid atop of it and the soil beneath your feet as you approach.

"Enjoy."

The hand vanishes from your own, leaving you alone on the side of the path. You look for him. But he's just an eidolon, watching you from the sky where you can't see him.

You warily take a seat and pick up the book.

˚➶ ｡˚

They don't see you again through the week. And when the next Monday comes by, their sheets are removed while they're in the showers.

Hongjoong sighs from his place on the floor, for the tenth time in the past half hour.

"Hong-"

"I miss our omega!" He whines, cutting him off.

Seonghwa stands from his cot, slowly lowering to the floor next to their shared bars. He lays flat on his back, mirroring Hongjoong as he tilts his head to look at him. "Soon." Is the only word he utters.

He reaches through the silver bars, ignoring the sting as the fresh wolfsbane brushes his wrist, and takes his hand.

The both of them look up at the ceiling through the bars of their enclosure.

Your scent is long gone from the room, and their noses can barely pick up on it through the rest of the village and prison.

"I want out of here," Hongjoong whispers, so lowly that the guard can't hear him from outside of the door, "when are they coming? Your bond with them is stronger, I can barely feel them..."

"Soon." He repeats, "very soon, Joong."

˚➶ ｡˚

Tuesday you manage to talk your coworker into sweeping the top floor, and you rejoice in the freedom of not being under the alpha's gazes. You've worked out a good schedule to completely avoid seeing them, and it's made your job feel like it's back to normal.

You can still smell their power wafting through the AC, but it's bearable. You distract yourself in your free time by making excuses to be on the second floor with Chungha and the other omegas.

Today, that excuse is 'omegas need physical outlets too', and the warden let you bring up buckets and brushes so you could all scrub the base boards.

"Oh, I've got one!" The omega to your left speaks, lifting his brush in the air in a eureka moment, "Texas Chainsaw Massacre or... Halloween?"

Chungha scoffs with a smile as she scrubs away to your right, "are we including sequels? There's like a billion!"

"No, stand alone original," Beomhan goes back to scrubbing as he continues, "both of them are classics but which one is a better classic?"

"Halloween is the classic slasher, Texas Chainsaw is like psychological horror," you chime in as you dip your brush into the bucket, sitting on your calves as you take a breather. "I think it's not fair to compare them... but Texas Chainsaw, definitely."

They laugh along with you, and Chungha shakes her head, "Halloween has more rewatchablity. You don't want to see Sally go through that more than once, but Laurie Strode fights harder and it's more like, yeah I'll watch her kick ass again."

"Cinematography in both is so beaut-"

The lights above you flicker before they shut down completely. People start muttering their concerns, quite a few of them looking your way. "Don't worry!" You hop up and get your keys from your pocket as you make your way to the locked stairwell. "I'll go and see what's going on, keep scrub-"

A loud siren echoes in the brick walls, shocking you all to cover your ears.

Everyone looks to you for answers, and you don't have any as your brain starts throwing theory after theory at you.

"It's okay, go back to your cells! Shut them behind you!"

They listened, however grumpy about it. The cell doors locked automatically when they were closed.

"Hey, what's going on?" Chungha asked over the clanging of the cell doors. The two of you, along with Beomhan, were the only ones left after a moment.

"Go back to your cell, Beomhan, hurry."

"No, what's happening?"

The sirens cut off and leave you in a pregnant pause for a moment as you simply try to calm yourself.

A deafening scream ricochets through the air vent next to you, scaring you into their arms as you all stare at it.

Usually, the air flow covered the echoes throughout the floors. But with no power, you could hear everything- albeit muffled.

Yells and shouts. Gunshots. Growls. Unidentifiable chaos. And above all, your ears tuned in on a rumbling, calm voice through it all.

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... It's not warm when she's away..."

Your eyes widen as theres a bang at the stairwell door. "Go, go!" You grab each of their wrists, dragging them into Chungha's cell. You slam it behind you and let down the sheet she has over it, backing away and staring at it as you hear the door hit the wall behind it with the force it's slammed open.

"(Y/n), what the hells happening?!"

You slap your hand over his mouth and bring a finger to your lips. The other omegas on the floor are all making a ruckus, and you can only hope that it will confuse that unfortunately familiar voice so he can't find you.

˚➶ ｡˚

The beta in the large room ignores Hongjoong as he continuously asks after 'the pretty omega'.

He just sweeps and sweeps, finally understanding why you hate coming up here. He has his back turned to the cage, and consequently, to the windows.

High on the tall walls, the narrow glass is opened from the outside. Seonghwa smirks, and gestures his head to it. Hongjoongs gaze follows, and he has to slap a hand over his mouth so he doesn't laugh.

A skinny figure is sliding its way in through the window sideways.

He drops to the floor as silent as a mouse, landing on his knees and grinning wildly up at his alphas.

Hongjoong throws his head back in preemptive relief, while Seonghwa is watching with a similarly wide smile as the man walks straight through the blood ash, breaking the circle with the tip of his shoe.

The worker still has his back turned as the lock on Seonghwas cage is picked with a long claw. He doesn't even know what's happening as the next thing he knows, he's thrown across the floor.

Blood ash knocks up around him, coughs wracking his body as he looks up to his assailant.

Park Seonghwa, newly freed from his cage, looks down at the worker with his eyes glowing red.

"Now usually..." He begins, crouching to be face to face with him, "I'd go through this whole place just for the fuck of it and cause some beautiful chaos. But I'm looking for someone."

"(Y/n)?" He stutters out, backing away only to knock into Hongjoongs legs. Stuck between the two criminals, he chooses his own head over yours. "The second floor! Sh-she's on the second floor!"

"Let's go get our omega, Joong."

Nonchalantly, Hongjoong draws his claws and slices the neck of the worker. He hops over the gurgling body and follows his mate with an ecstatic giggle.

He wraps his arm around the skinny man's shoulder, "Wooyoung! Our savior~" He ruffles his hair and laughs as he groans.

"You guys know I've got your back. Seonghwa told me about your new omega, you seem excited," he mimics the alphas smile as the eldest of the trio opens the doors.

The guard on duty, who happens to be Merle, looks back with wide eyes.

"Yes, oh yes!" His eyes roll to the back of his head, touching the stitches you made on his shirt. "Oh, you'll love her, she's a feisty omega just like you."

He makes a run for the fire alarm at the end of the hall, but Seonghwa is faster. The beta is tackled to the floor.

"I'm glad you both will have a buffer, tired of you always at each other's throats during ruts," Wooyoung laughs, looking down at the guard as they pass.

Seonghwa had simply torn out his throat with his bare hand and made his way to the elevator, holding it open with an impatient glare.

The door closes behind them and the only sound is Seonghwa's heavy breathing.

"You're real eager, huh?" The omega breaks the silence, "San should be coming in any second to block the main door. No one will get past him. The rest are in the village, just as we planned."

"Good, she'll need somewhere to rest before we take off....Fucking idiots, thinking they can cage us." He groans, eyes flicking to the number above the doors as it dings.

3? "Fuck."

The door opens and the woman on the other side takes a moment, nearly walking in before she notices the crimson liquid dripping from Segonhwa's hand.

She makes it halfway through the hall before Hongjoong pounces on her, fighting her effortlessly as if she's a rag doll. The guards run to try and save her, but it's too late for the unfortunate woman, and they just signed their own death certificate as well.

Seonghwa and Wooyoung make quick work of them, but their plan is already foiled as the lights flicker to a halt and leave them bathed in dim light of the setting sun in the few windows.

The alphas fall to their knees as their sensitive ears are bombarded with a loud, incessant siren.

"Wooyoung!" Hongjoong screams over it, "go turn that shit off!"

He nods, taking the keys off a mauled guard and dashing to the stair well, leaving it unlocked behind him.

Hongjoong crawls to Seonghwa, collapsing into his chest with his teeth clenched and palms over his ears. His ears were always more sensitive.

His partner places his hands over his, thumb running over his own. He looks down with his eyes glowing red, meeting pure black.

He leans and kisses him deeply, all teeth and bloodlust, trying to merge their souls until the sirens cuts off.

Their foreheads rest together, ignoring the chaos of the beta's around them yelling to be released.

"Are you ready?" Seonghwa whispers, gathering another set of keys from the fallen workers. He throws it to one of the locked in prisoners, a smirk on his face. So much for not creating chaos.

"Let's go," Hongjoong holds the door to the staircase open and lets him go first with a dramatic bow.

It takes one scream to start the havoc. The entire prison is filled with the sickly sweet sounds of caged animals with a taste of freedom. Gunfire and howls bring a smile to Seonghwa's lips as he sings out,

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... it's not warm when she's away..."

He hums the song with a wide grin as Hongjoong kicks the door. It takes only one more kick before it slams open and bangs against the cement wall.

The omegas in their cells are all yelling at them, at one another, in general.

Hongjoong kicks one of the many buckets on the floor over and groans, "here I was thinking she'd make it easy. I guess we'll have to go cell to cell!" A small spike of a heartbeat in his ears makes him smirk, following the sound that he memorized the first time he'd heard it.

Seonghwa follows him, immediately zeroing in on the same cell. He comes to stand infront of it, his breath making the blanket behind the bars sway slightly.

You see both pairs of orange slip on shoes and you feel your heart stop in your chest.

You cower further into the corner with Beomhan as Chungha stands in front of you. The sheet is grabbed from the outside and ripped away, making you all shriek.

"Were you playing hide and seek?" Hongjoong giggles, throwing the blanket to the side with his eyes never leaving you, a scowl growing on his features as he notices the way you're curling into another wolf. "You should know better than to hide from your alphas. Come on out."

You shake your head, gaze lowered as you hold onto the back of Chungha's uniform.

"(Y/n)," the saturnine man speaks, "come here."

"No, leave us alone! Leave me alone," your voice cracks despite how strong you want to appear.

"If I have to drag you out of here I will be very angry. Just come on, do us all a solid."

"No-"

"Open the fucking door!"

"No!"

The cells were built to hold lycans, which means lycans shouldn't be able to get in... right?

"Fucking-" Seonghwa hits the bars, leaving a dent and making the three of you jump.

Hongjoong leans on his tiptoes and whispers into his ear, and whatever he says makes his eyes begin glowing a murderous red.

He slowly wraps his clawed fingers around the bars, and the way Hongjoong backs up makes your stomach churn in anxiety of what's about to come.

And it was warranted anxiety.

With a loud growl and a single tug, he rips the silver bars from their cemented place in the wall, causing a large crack to form.

"Holy shit!" Beomhan screams, arms wrapping around you tightly.

Chungha is ripped from the small room and tossed all the way across the room, back colliding with the wall and leaving her unconscious.

You yelp as Beomhan meets a similar fate, torn from your grasp and out into the rec room like he's a mere bag of trash. You see Hongjoong approaching him with his long black claws out and proud, but your vision is blocked by the large alpha infront of you.

Your hips back into Chungha's small desk, and your hands clamber around, landing on something small and solid.

You swing it at his head and he ducks, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the small cell. You manage to swing again, making contact with his head. The small ceramic bowl shatters into pieces and leaves him only temporarily stunned, glaring down at you.

"Fucking stop," he growls quietly, shoving you to the floor.

He lets you shuffle away, only because Hongjoong is right behind you.

The blonde chuckles, pulling you back up by your collar and crashing you face first into one of the round steel tables bolted into the floor. "Ow!" You yell out as your head makes contact, fighting against him with all your might, but it's fruitless.

He kicks your feet apart and stands between them, leaning his chest over your back. You can feel his nose against your neck, over the healed skin above your scent blocker. You snap your eyes shut and do the only thing you can thing of.

You can't fight. Begging to these men would be useless. You can't disappear into the floor like you wish you could.

"Please, Selene," you pray to the moon, tears slipping past your shut eyes as you feel the claws of the mad man on your neck.

You cry out as the other worldly sharp nails slice into your neck, slowly and almost surgically. His other hand is cupped on the back of your head, keeping your head pushed into the cold metal. "Shhhh," he gushes above you, "it's okay."

Seonghwa sits at one of the bolted stools and rests his head to mimic yours, cheek on the table. "We'd've been more gentle if you listened, omega."

Between the tips of his claws, Hongjoong holds your small alloy scent blocker. Almost instantaneously, your natural scent floods their senses.

Their deep rumbles of pleasure make you snap your eyes back shut, missing the way Hongjoong stomps on the device.

"Fuck," the wolf behind you curses, body pressed close to yours like he wants to fuse together, he places his hands in yours and tells you, "you might want to squeeze."

"Wh- ah!" Your scream echoes over all of the other chaos as his teeth sink into your left shoulder, and you do just that. Your clawed hands squeeze around his, sharp nails knocking together as you hold on like his hands are the only thing keeping you from slipping to the underworld.

It feels like a million pins and needles washing over you, leaving you paralyzed in place as he purrs into the wound, making your bones vibrate.

A warm, comforting hand on your cheek makes you force your eyes open. Seonghwa smiles sweetly, like he isn't witnessing one of the biggest crimes in the lycan community.

Forcing someone to be your mate for the rest of your mortal lives.

"Breathe, omega," his words make you realize you're holding your breath, and you let it out as a sob. "That's it," he hums, rubbing his hand down your head with all the gentleness he's capable of.

Hongjoong pulls away with a moan, resting his head between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath.

Your wolf is already calling for her mate, howling in the back of your mind as you cry.

"Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." Seonghwas words have little time to register in your adrenaline filled head as he turns your head the other way and climbs up on the table.

It hits you when he moves your ruffled shirt away from your right shoulder. "No! No!" You find yourself with two million pins and needles in your body now, squeezing Hongjoongs hands all over again as Seonghwa sinks his teeth into you at an excruciatingly slow pace.

They're bigger, or maybe they only feel that way because your body is on fire. You sob freely, feet stomping pathetically to cope with the pain.

What little comfort you find in Hongjoong squeezing your hands back is washed away by the simple fact that it's him. That blood from his claws drips onto your skin.

It feels like a century later that the older alpha finally pulls away, a bellow of pleasure as he runs his thumb over the wound: making you jump.

"Your turn, omega."

The weight of their bodies is gone, but you can't bring yourself to move. Out of fear, maybe. Pain, perhaps.

"You know what happens to wolves who don't finish the bond." Hongjoong purrs teasingly, knowing full well that you will have to mark them back least you want to suffer at the hands of the moon herself.

A life with them was better than being turned inside out and left to the elements. Just barely.

You lift yourself on shaking arms and nearly fall as you turn. You would have if not for Hongjoong catching you. He lifts you back to the table much gentler, letting your legs dangle as you sit on the table top.

"Why... why me?"

"... Have you heard of Harry Talbot?"

"Harry Talbots a myth... what's he got to do with your fuck shit?"

"Harry Talbot was the first wolf that could smell his mate. He could tell just by her smell, they were meant to be." Hongjoong slots his way between your legs, smiling down at you with his bloody teeth, "her smell called to him. It wasn't just good. It wasn't a normal scent. It was...alluring."

You were growing dizzy, head spinning.

"Strong alphas can sniff out their true mate. And, baby, we're the strongest that there is."

You have to force yourself to swallow. Have to remember to breathe.

"Why? Because you're... alluring."

That's the last thing you can register before your world turns dark.

˚➶ ｡˚ PART ONE END ˚➶ ｡˚

#yandere fic #smut fic #ateez fic #yandere ateez #park seonghwa #yandere seonghwa #ateez matz #kim hongjoong #yandere hongjoong #ateez smut #ateez x reader #matz x reader #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yandere ateez x reader #yandere x reader #yandere werewolf

1K notes · View notes

cherrynflowergarden · 2 months ago

Text

જ⁀➴ bitter truths|| dealer!matt x doll!reader

sturniolo masterlist add yourself to the taglist

she was laughing, leaning against her desk as she chatted with noah, a guy from her college. her eyes sparkled as she giggled at something he said, her entire posture relaxed and comfortable in his presence. but matt, standing by the door, could feel something dark twisting in his chest as he watched them. he didn’t get jealous—but he’d seen noah around. he knew the guy. he wasn’t some harmless friend and he surely didn’t have the best intentions. and watching her so openly enjoying his company made matt’s jaw clench.

he cleared his throat loudly, catching her attention. she glanced over, her big smile faltering as she noticed the coldness in his eyes.

“oh! matt,” she said, pulling herself away from noah. “this is noah, from my psych class. he’s been helping me with some notes.”

noah nodded politely, but matt didn’t return the gesture, his arms crossed tightly, eyes narrowing. “right. helping,” he repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm. her expression softened, her brow creasing slightly as she sensed his tension.

“can we talk?” he said, his tone stiff. “alone.” he added, bitterly eyeing noah.

she looked at noah apologetically. she barely had a chance to say goodbye before matt grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the room. she could feel the anger radiating off him, heavy, simmering, the kind that made her stomach twist.

she shifted under his gaze, trying to hold her ground, but his intensity made her stomach twist.

“what the hell are you doing, doll?” his voice was cold, almost a snarl. “hanging around with a guy like him?”

she frowned, taken aback by his tone. “he’s just a friend, matt. he’s helping me with some notes—”

“a friend? you don’t get it, do you?” his voice was mocking, filled with a bitterness she hadn’t heard from him before. “people like him don’t want to be friends with someone like you. you’re just easy prey.”

her eyes widened, a hurt expression flashing across her face. “matt, why are you being so—”

“realistic?” he interrupted, eyes narrowing. “because someone has to be. you think everyone’s got some good in them, that everyone’s gonna treat you the way you treat them. but that’s not how the world works, doll. you’re too blind to see it.”

her lip trembled, but she took a shaky breath, trying to stay calm. “you’re wrong, matt. i know what he’s like with me. just because he doesn’t fit into your world doesn’t mean—”

“oh, please,” he cut in, rolling his eyes. “you really think you know what you’re doing? you don’t have a clue. you’re just letting him string you along because he’s nice to you. that’s all it takes, isn’t it?” his words were sharp, condescending. “anyone gives you a bit of attention, and you’re ready to trust them with anything.”

her face flushed, her chest tightening at his words. “i thought… i thought you trusted me, matt. trusted that i could figure things out.”

“trusted you?” he scoffed, shaking his head in frustration. “y/n, i’m just trying to keep you from getting hurt. but you’re too stubborn, too naive to see that half these people only see you as an easy target.”

the word naive cut through her like a knife, each syllable laced with disdain. “so that’s what you think of me?” her voice was barely above a whisper. “some… some helpless girl who can’t take care of herself?”

“isn’t that exactly what you’re proving right now?” he snapped, his patience finally snapping with it. “you’re so desperate for everyone to like you, so willing to see the good in people, that you don’t even realize they’re laughing behind your back. they see you as this silly soft girl they can use and toss aside.” his voice was harsh, each word landing like a blow.

tears pricked at her eyes, but she held them back, swallowing hard. “i… i thought you saw me differently.”

he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “doll, you’re… you’re sweet, alright? you’re too sweet for your own good. ‘t’s gonna ruin you if you don’t learn to see through people like him. and right now, you’re just proving me right. you’re proving you don’t get how people are.”

she flinched, his words making her chest ache. “maybe… maybe i don’t want to see people the way you do, matt. maybe i want to believe in people. i thought you’d get that.”

“get that?” he scoffed, crossing his arms. “’m done trying to understand why you’re so determined to get hurt. you don’t get it, do you? you’re weak and you refuse to see it. you refuse to admit that you need someone to watch out for you.”

the words echoed in her mind, his voice searing into her heart. weak. naive. silly. and what hurt her the most was how he addressed her by her name and not as doll. she felt a tear slip down her cheek and quickly wiped it away, but matt didn’t soften, didn’t reach out to her.

for a moment, she couldn’t even speak, her throat tight with unshed tears. “if that’s really how you see me, then… maybe you don’t know me at all.” her voice was shaky, laced with hurt she couldn’t hide.

he watched her, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t move. he didn’t apologize or reach out to stop her as she turned and walked away, each step heavier than the last. she kept her gaze down, trying to block out his words, but they echoed in her mind, relentless.

days passed. she avoided his texts, his calls, even ignored the harsh banging on her door and every attempt he made to reach her. every time she saw his name flash on her phone, her chest tightened and the hurt bubbled up again. she knew matt was protective, that he cared, but his words had felt like a betrayal, like he didn’t trust her to know what was best for herself.

an; angst bc i'm sad(⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠) also tell me do we like this small title font more or the quote font one?

taglist; @mattsdolll @izzylovesmatt

580 notes · View notes

revasserium · 6 months ago

Text

know, know better

suo hayato; 3,591 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", banter, so much flirting, mentions of bodily harm (its wind breaker lol), first!kisses, semi-whipped!suo, suo will break the world for the one he loves likes, suo is a jackass gentleman exhibit 329048293

summary: the only difference between a garden and a graveyard is what you decide to put in the ground

a/n: yes, i know i've used that metaphor before in another fic for another fandom. no, i do not care. yes, i will continue to reuse this metaphor bc i love it.

001.

He sees you for the first time on the roof, and for a second, he wonders if he’s hallucinating because — well, no one else wears dresses at Fuurin other than Tsubaki-chan and he’s certain he just saw them downstairs, arm slung through Umemiya’s, squealing about a new line of glittery eyeshadows that just launched over the weekend.

“Ah — excuse me!”

“I know, I know — but I couldn’t just let the poor cherry tomatoes suffer like this! Go tell Ume-nii that he’s been neglecting — oh!”

By the time you look up, Suo is already bending over your shoulder to peer politely down into the garden trough, his single eye wide and bright and curious.

“Uwah… you seem really good at this!”

You lick your lips, tasting salt, feeling an unfamiliar heat creep up the back of your neck.

“Uhm… yeah — well —” your clear your throat and turn back towards the cherry tomato plants, reaching out with a gloved hand to flick one of the budding green tomatoes, “these lil guys need a lot of sunlight and Ume-nii let them in a patch of shade, so I couldn’t just leave them there, yknow?”

You smile as you get to your feet, Suo backing up politely, his hands tucked behind his back, his eye following the graceful lilt of your movements, the lithe, slenderness of your arms and legs. He can’t help the way his gaze catches on the hem of your skirt, the way it brushes the creamy skin of your leg just above your knees.

He forces himself to look away.

“You… must be one of the new first-years, right? I heard Kotoha-chan talking about you guys!”

Your voice is clear as a bell-chime, and almost as sweet, but its your eyes he can’t stop himself from coming back to. Irises purled with gold, limned by dark lashes that cast shadows against the round of your cheeks. He feels something inside him stutter as he tries to focus back on the way you’re reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, how the other errant strands frame your face so perfectly that he has to fight down the urge to reach out and tug the slip of hair back down.

“… your name?”

“Hm?” Suo smiles before he realizes you’re waiting for him to say something, “Ah — apologies — how rude of me. Suo Hayato, it’s a pleasure.”

He dips his head in greeting as you extend a hand.

“Pleasure, huh?” you giggle as he takes your hand in his and shakes. Your skin is warm and soft, and Suo finds — for the first time in a long while — that he doesn’t really want to let go.

002.

He sees you the second time at Cafe Pothos, laughing behind the counter with Kotoha. He pauses in the doorway and lets the sound wash over him, even as you both look over at the sound of the doorbell.

“Oh! It’s you!” your smile sets his world spinning off on it’s axis and it’s all he can do to keep it from showing. Beside him, Sakura frowns.

“You know each other?”

Suo grins, stepping over the threshold to slip into one of the bar chairs.

“Yep! We met on the school roof the other day!”

“School roof — wait, I thought there weren’t any girls in Fuurin — unless —” Sakura cuts off as he whips back towards you, his eyes wide as he looks you over once, twice — before Kotoha rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers in front of his face.

“Oi! Quit ogling my friend — and no, there aren’t any girls in Fuurin, but we do have a delivery service for the VIP clients.” Kotoha winks as Sakura’s cheeks go pink. Suo props his chin on the heel of his hand and offers you a bright smile; your mirrored smile back makes his chest squeeze.

“So… how’re the cherry tomatoes doing?” you ask, reaching out to set a traditional tea service in front of Suo, your fingers light as they pluck a tiny porcelain cup from a shelf to place it on a small, bamboo tray.

“They’re getting really ripe! I’ve been checking on them like you asked…” Suo’s voice trails off as you go about the work of putting loose leaf tea in a tea bowl and warming it before pouring out the first wash of liquid.

“How… did you know I’d like this kind of tea?”

You grin, shrugging, “I just… had a feeling.”

“It’s her superpower,” Kotoha leans over with a sly smile, “she can usually guess a person’s favorite kind of food and drink within… about five minutes of getting to know them!”

“Oh stop it — it’s nothing like that! I just… had a hunch is all.” You glance up to catch Suo staring, his gaze so intense you almost fumble the teapot in your hands. It clinks against the empty cup, but before the cup has a chance to tumble off the table, Suo reaches out with a deft hand to catch it, placing it smoothly back onto the tea tray.

There’s a faint stutter in the fluidity of your movements as you blink at the cup now sitting innocently, perfectly centered, on the tray. And then you’re reaching out to fill the cup with a steaming, golden liquid, fragrant enough to fill half the room. Even Sakura leans over with a curious sniff.

“Whoa. Smells good,” he says, “smells like…”

Suo smiles, reaching down to trace a finger along the razor-thin rim of the tiny glass, “Smells like flowers.”

003.

You are young in all the ways that teenage girls can be young, and old in the all the ways that people have to be in Makochi. Your ribs hurt, your lip’s split, and there’s an ache settling over your right eye that tells you there’s probably an incredible bruise blooming into existence there.

“Ouch… damnit… I’ve really… done it this time…” you groan as you try to push yourself up off the dark alley wall. You wiggle each of your fingers in turn and say a silent prayer when you find that they all respond. Good, you think, so nothing’s broken. **

Not yet, at least.

Footsteps to your right. Light, but hurried. You squeeze your eyes shut and brace for the worst but instead — there’s only warmth, and a soft palm cupping the curve of your face.

“Hey… it’s okay — you’re alright.”

“S-Suo…kun?”

“That’s right — it’s me —” a soft, exasperated sigh, “we were looking for you afternoon —” arms wrapping around you, lifting you up. You hear the soft rustle of bags and groan as you try to reach out but a firm hand stops you.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

He doesn’t sound angry. If anything, he sounds just as measured as he usually is. But pressed up against his chest like this, you can feel the wild, racehorse hoofbeats of his heart, feel the shakiness in his every breath. His fingers are tight as he cradles you to him, carrying you from the alleyway.

“I wanted… yokan…” your voice is hoarse, and a bit ragged. Suo casts his eyes up toward the sunset sky and counts down from ten.

When he’s certain his voice won’t shake, he says —

“Eh? But the Minami tea store always sells really good yokan — why’d you… ah… you wanted to get the famous mizu yokan from across the tracks, didn’t you?” Suo sighs, gently adjusting his hold around your body, pressing you ever closer to his chest. Your breathing is shallow but even; like this, he can almost hear the faint fluttering of your heart deep inside your chest, see the soft quiver of your lashes as you shift in his arms.

“Silly girl,” he whispers, leaning down to press his lips into the seam of your hair, “next time, just tell me and I’ll go with you.”

He can sense your consciousness fading, and though the logical part of him knows that you’re in no immediate danger, he still hastens his steps, his stomach twisting inside him like a wrung-out towel, dry and aching.

“But…” he leans in; your voice is barely a whisper. He almost jumps as you reach up to trace a finger along his eyepatch, “Then it wouldn’t have been… a surprise.”

004.

“Happy Birthday!”

“Wow! Thank you!” Suo blinks for a second before his expression breaks into a bright smile. He’d had an inkling, after the “yokan-incident”, that this might’ve been the reason. But still, it twists something deep inside his gut to know that you’d gotten so hurt because of — well — something to do with him.

Even unsolicited. Even then. He detests the thought of it.

Nearly the entire first year class is there, and a good few students from the second and third years, crammed into Cafe Pothos. There’s a full traditional tea service set out on the tables, pieced together into the center of the room, and an array of tea snacks enough to make even the most ascetic eaters take pause.

“Suo-kun! C’mon, you shouldn’t keep everyone waiting, right?” Kotoha waves him towards the center table, where a multicolored display of mochis are placed in a barely legible “Happy Birthday”, each with a matching colored candle shoved into the middle.

“Sakura-kun did the mochis!” Nirei offers, pointing, seconds before Sakura smacks him upside the head.

“You don’t have’ta single it out!”

Suo takes his time, moving from person to person, chatting and laughing and thanking them in turn. There’s a softness pulsing inside him, something warm and growing, purring, curling up with a creamy, spine-deep contentment. Until he gets to you, busy wowing a group of first-year boys with your kung-fu tea skills, pouring the steaming water from higher and higher, never spilling a single drop.

“— the water can’t be too hot, or else the tea will get burnt — and that’s why sometimes —”

“Sometimes, when you make tea at home, it tastes awful and bitter, right?” Suo sits down, smiling even as he purposefully encroaches on the personal space of the freshman closest to you. To his credit, the freshman boy laughs, inching back as Suo props his chin on his palm and turns to look at them.

“A-ah… that’s really uh — cool! Wow — those shortcakes over there look really good — guys, let’s go grab some before they’re all gone!”

They scurry off, dipping their heads in your direction before ducking away.

“Mm… you’re lucky its your birthday,” you say, placing a warmed cup of tea in front of him, reaching over to slide over a glistening piece of mizu-yokan.

“Hm?” Suo takes a sip of the tea, savoring it’s depth of flavor, before taking a bite of the tea-snack.

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so nice to someone who’s driving off all my best customers,” you say, flashing him a knowing, indulgent smile. Suo doesn’t miss a beat.

“Your best customers?” he makes a show of pivoting towards where the clueless freshmen boys had run off to, now crowded around Sakura, laughing all too loudly, “if I didn’t know better… I’d say you need to raise your standards.”

You cock your head, hands pausing over a fresh pour of tea.

“But you do, don’t you?” you ask, resuming your movements. A second later, you place a fresh cup of tea in front of him.

“Don’t I… what?” he asks, playing at innocence.

“You should,” you parry, propping open the lid of the tiny teapot with two fingers, bending down to take a deep breath of the fragrant leaves.

The lid snaps back onto the pot with a solid click.

Suo blows at the surface of his teacup, pausing at the sound. He looks up to meet your knife-sharp gaze.

“Know — better.”

A shiver kisses up the length of his spine, and he nearly drops the fresh cup of tea. He clears his throat and takes a long sip. The heat drips down his throat, unfurling in his stomach, setting his whole body ablaze with the kind of fire that refuses to go out.

“Mm… this tea is delicious! Where’s it from?”

You shake your head, the motion just on the other side of innocent. But as you said — he knows better now.

“Somewhere… over the rainbow, I suppose.”

In a flicker, faster than a flash, he reaches out, fingers skimming along a thin line marring the perfect skin of your left cheek.

“This wasn’t there two days ago,” he says, almost casually, before his voice drops in register and his eyes go dark beneath his curtain of too-long lashes, “where’s it from?”

You make you shake off his hand but he’s too quick, catching your chin between two fingers.

“Don’t know. Must’ve been an accident.”

Suo tugs you towards him, his grip now bordering on too tight, “Ah… pretty girls like you shouldn’t make a habit of lying so much.”

You lick your lips, breath caught in your chest as you tug your face from his grasp, flicking a strand of hair over your shoulder.

“And pretty boys like you should really know better than to ask questions they don’t want to know the answers to.”

“And if I don’t?” Suo’s voice is sweet and soft and low. He sets down his empty teacup; you reach out to refill it.

“Don’t what?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

He catches your wrist, pulling up your sleeve before you can protest to reveal a series of dark bruises scattered up the length of your arm. The air around him seems to condense and cool as he stares for a second before his expression fixes itself back into one of detached sweetness.

“Know — better,” he answers, simply, letting his hand fall as you snatch your arm back, massaging the place where his fingers had been.

You narrow your eyes, but before you can say anything else, a group of boys all stumble over, singing loudly as they pull Suo back towards the center of the room, where yet another cake has materialized out of god knows where. He laughs, clapping along, blowing out the candles on instruction.

But for the rest of the night, you can’t help feeling the weight of his eyes on you, though you never again catch him staring.

005.

“They’re doing well, aren’t they?”

You jump, jerking upright even as Suo approaches you on the rooftop garden, hands laced behind his back, his earrings fluttering in the light breeze.

“Y-yeah. They really are.” You turn back to your cherry tomato plants, a few of them ripe to bursting. You reach out to pluck one off a vine, turning to offer it to the boy crouching down next to you.

He takes it from you, examining it for a second before popping into his mouth.

“Mm… sweet!”

You laugh, reaching out to tug another one off the vine. You bite into the soft flesh, feeling the explosion of flavor on your tongue.

“So much better than the ones from the supermarket, right?”

Suo sighs, nodding, but his expression sobers a second later.

“You shouldn’t have done that — just for my birthday.”

You pause, hands halfway towards another tomato. Suo reaches out to pluck it for you. As he presses it into your hand, you sigh, shaking your head.

“I didn’t do it just for you.”

“Oh?”

You roll the bright red fruit between your thumb and forefingers, holding it up to the light.

“Do you know what the difference is between a garden and a graveyard?” you ask, dropping your hand back down, your eyes trained on the plump little tomato now sitting in the palm of your hand.

“Tell me,” Suo says, watching you intently.

You turn to glance at him, a sad little smile on your lips.

“What you choose to put in the ground,” you say, before reaching out to press the cherry tomato to his lips. Suo blinks at you for a second before slowly opening his mouth to let the tomato slip through. He bites down, doesn’t reach up to wipe at the thin streak of juice slicking down his chin. He watches as your eyes flicker down, feels the pad of your thumb swipe across his skin.

He’s tugging you forward before he can stop himself; you taste the bright burst of sweet and sour on your tongue seconds before he pulls back, eyes wide. You lick your lips, expression half-shocked, half-satisfied. He opens his mouth to apologize —

“S-sorry, I should’ve asked — mmphf!”

You reach up and pull him towards you by the collar of his school uniform. It’s all he can do to catch himself against the rough ground of the rooftop garden, bits of gravel biting into his palm.

The kiss is sweet, is savory, is tentative — and then, suddenly, it bursts into something more — like a bite of over-ripe fruit, with juice sluicing down it’s seams — he surges forward, catching you around the waist. He savors in the friction of your lips against his, the teeth-aching sweetness of your warm breath as you gasp open for him, and only him. And by the gods, he tries to be a good man — a respectful man, but the tiny noise you make as he curls his fingers into the bend of your waist threatens to render all his flighty codes and morals to ash.

It is a noble pursuit, he decides later on, this of all things — to kiss you until there is no other way for you to be kissed. To kiss you just like this, until your mouth is ruined for all other tastes but the one of his tongue. He’s never thought himself a greedy man, but like this — with your body pressed to his on this rooftop garden, he thinks he might’ve learned a few more things about the depths and widths of why greed is considered such a cardinal sin.

When he finally lets you go, he’s satisfied to see there’s a dazed, unfocused haze to your eyes as you blink up at him, fingers fisted into the front of his school uniform.

“You still haven’t told me —” he leans down to press his forehead to yours, reveling in the way you gasp, the hitch in your voice as you lick your lips and he fights back a thick groan.

“Told you what?”

“Why you’d go out of the city bounds to get all those things for my birthday.”

You sigh, pursing your kiss-swollen lips.

“Because… those stores, like the earth, they… they might just need one good seed — one nice interaction —” your lashes flutter and Suo has to physically bat down the urge to lean down and kiss you again. Perhaps, he thinks, this is how dragons are made of fairy tale princes — perhaps, all the dragons ever needed was just one more kiss from their fairy tale princess.

“So… you thought to take it upon yourself to be that one nice interaction? To turn all those graveyards… into gardens?”

You crinkle your nose, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as he pulls back to stare down at you.

“It’s a stupid thing to do, I know.”

Suo nods, “It is. But… only because you thought you could do it by yourself.”

He shifts, tugging you up into his lap as he readjusts himself to lean back against one of the taller planter boxes, his arms now comfortably looped around your middle.

“Well, if I’d told anyone… they would’ve tried to stop me.”

Suo tuts, reaching up to flick your nose with a gentle finger, “Oh ye of little faith,” he admonishes, grinning as you swat at his hand. He catches you by the wrist, pulling it in to press his lips to your palm, sighing as he nuzzles into your warmth.

“Do you really think we would’ve written off your feelings that easily? That I wouldn’t have at least tried to listen?”

You make to look away, embarrassed at your own oversight, but he tugs your chin back, forcing you to face him properly again.

“C’mon now… smart girl like you… should know better than that, shouldn’t you?”

You narrow your eyes, a feline glint alighting behind your eyes as you reach up to lace your fingers through his, leaning in with a challenge clear in your voice.

“And… if I don’t?”

Suo meets your gaze, a wide smile splitting his face as he tugs you closer, shifting your legs to settle on either side of his hips, his fingers now digging into the plush of your thighs, inching up to tease at the hemline of your skirt.

“Then I suppose… someone’ll just have to teach you better, won’t they?”

656 notes · View notes

formulawolff · 7 months ago

Text

vii. the in-between - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 5.2k

warnings: buckle up y’all cause we go. angst, cursing, size kink, edging, praise kink, FUCKING, LOTS OF FUCKING. toto being a simp, banter, yearning, mentions of divorce, mentions of alcohol use, creampie, teasing, yadayadayada… y’all know what’s about to go down

prev. | next.

“it’s fine, mom. really.”

bringing a hand to your temple, you begin to massage, attempting to alleviate the accumulated pressure.

“i mean, yeah, i’m not in trouble or anything. as far as i know, the fia is letting me race in suzuka. it was my first offense so they dropped the investigation. as long as i publicly apologize for my actions, everything will be cleared up.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

do you know how many people have asked me about you? baby, people approach me at the goddamn grocery store asking me why you beat up that poor little british boy! he’s built like a twig for god’s sake!

rolling your eyes, you lean back in your chair, keeping the phone pressed against your ear, “mom, his name is george russell. he drives for mercedes. he’s not some little boy.”

all right, all right. well maybe he needs to come over for some dinner or something. get some meat on those bones. anyway, did i tell you that your father has been scouring ebay trying to purchase sports cards with your car on it? well, he’s found ones with you on them too. he wants to make a booklet of his favorite kiddo.

with that discovery, your heart swells, “is he really? tell him to look up topps chrome cards. those are the best ones. since i’m not as popular as max or lewis, they should be pretty cheap. and mom, i’m your only kiddo.”

that’s why we’re so proud of you. even if you get into fist fights, we still love you bunches. when do you think you’ll come home? your dad wants to take you out in his baby. he’s made some modifications to it. he thinks you’ll appreciate it more than i will.

“where is dad? is he asleep?”

yes honey. he’s asleep. snoring away on the couch with the dogs. i wish we could give you a taste of home somehow. maybe i could have a care package sent to japan?

“mom,” you exhale, “that would be so much money. don’t worry about it. were you guys considering flying out for miami?”

oh yes, about that! you perk up in your chair, anticipating your mom’s response. we are going to be there. we can’t wait to see you. we miss you so much. it’s so quiet when you’re not home. will i be able to meet some of your coworkers?

letting you a giggle, you shake your head, “mom. they’re my fellow drivers. we’re not coworkers. but yeah, i could probably introduce you to a few of them. daniel wants to meet you two.”

what about that handsome fellow with the bright blue eyes? he drives for redbull! and yes, i would love to meet daniel.

“max verstappen?” you arch a brow, “we’d have to see about that one. he’s a very busy man.”

okay, okay. the line cuts out briefly. hey honey, i think i need to head to bed. i love you so much. keep in touch, okay? we’ll see you in a few short weeks.

nibbling on your lower lip, you nod, “i love you too, mom. tell dad i love him. i miss you guys. i can’t wait to see you.”

me either. goodnight honey, or good morning or afternoon or whatever time it is over there. i’ll text you when i wake up! love you.

“love you,” your lip trembles, hands clamming up as you the line goes silent.

fuck, were you homesick.

you just had to make it a few more weeks. then, you could finally reunite with your parents in miami. although you knew you would be so fucking busy, you would make time.

you always did when it came to your parents.

also, you had another plan brewing as you scroll through your contact list, searching for a certain dutch assassin. a certain dutch man who happened to be a three-time world champion.

somehow, someway, your mom was going to meet max verstappen.

you had to make that happen.

you had to.

currently, you were sitting on the edge of a bed in a suite in london, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your driver. a decently-sized suitcase sat near the door, a carry-on stacked on top.

this driver was provided specific instructions to transport you from london to brackley, dropping you off at the door of a certain team principal’s home.

yet, you were well aware that it wasn’t going to be just any old home.

this man was billionaire, after all.

buzzing in your grasp, your phone notifies you of a new text.

from none other than toto wolff.

the driver is on the elevator, heading up towards your suite. DO NOT handle your bags. he will do that for you. i don’t want you to fuss over a single thing. from there, he will bring you here, where he will punch in the code for the gate. i will be waiting for you at the door.

i can’t wait to see you, schatzi. i miss your beautiful face and sweet laughter.

oh, and i can’t wait to kiss you.

(and yes, i am pacing around in my office as i type this. i can’t focus on anything else but your arrival)

with sazuka quickly approaching next week, you would only have a couple of days with the team principal before you had to part ways. he would have prep, meetings, press, where he would then fly out to sazuka. meanwhile, you would have to catch a flight, meet with your team, prep, and potentially meet with press, fans, and the other drivers.

additionally, you had to address the incident that occurred last week at the australian grand prix. to your surprise, the fia had dismissed the investigation, finding no substantial evidence that the two of you needed to be punished. due to the nature of the accident, george was not punished, as he did no illegal maneuvers or intentionally attempted to take you out of the race.

on the other hand, the fia was adamant that if this happened again, you were going to face consequences. you would have to shell out a pretty penny for fines, and then you would be immediately disqualified from three future races, deeming you unable to participate.

although they were merciful, the fia made it very clear that since it was your first offense, they were going to be fair..

however, if there was a next time, they would not be so kind.

a crisp knock rang out, startling you.

springing to your feet, you open the door, an older man smiling in greeting.

“you must be golden girl,” sticking out his right hand, he dips his head, “i’m theodore. i’ll be your driver to brackley this evening. i am here to not only be your escort, but to tend to anything you may need. mr. wolff made it very clear that you were not to fret over a single thing.”

“good morning,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile as you shake his hand, “thank you. i’m eager to see the english countryside.”

“i’ll handle your bags ma’am,” theodore clears his throat, “you just take it easy.”

“will do,” you nod, “how long is the drive?”

“about an hour and a half,” theodore responds curtly, slinging your carry-on around his shoulder, “don’t worry, it’s not too boring. follow me this way, my lady. our chariot awaits!”

following him down the hall, he presses the button for the elevator. there’s a silence between you, but not an uncomfortable one. theodore’s presence was warm, inviting even.

upon meeting him, you understood why he was toto’s right-hand driver. once he escorted you to the car, he opens the door for you, ushering you inside. when you settle into the backseat, you notice the glint of a redbull can, along with your favorite snacks and candy.

“mr. wolff wanted to ensure you wouldn’t be hungry,” theodore states as he climbs into the driver’s seat, pressing the button for the ignition, “he told me that you can be a little cranky if you don’t have any snacks.”

“oh? he said that?” a giggle bubbles up in your throat, “did he say anything else about me?”

“oh yes,” theodore chuckles, turning the gear shift, “he’s told me all about you. to be quite frank, he hasn’t shut up about you the last week or so.”

“so you know who i am?”

“of course i do,” theodore nods, flashing you a grin in the rearview mirror, “you’re one of the best formula one drivers on the grid. you drive for williams racing. you’ve only won one grand prix, but i believe you’ll win a few more this season. your hometown is in yuma, arizona. you’re twenty-two years old, and from what toto has shared with me, you have a very bright future ahead.”

“are you a formula one fan?” you arch a brow, punching open the can of redbull.

“who isn’t?” he shrugs, “well, ms. golden girl, we are going to begin our journey. if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to speak up. if you’d like, you can tell me a little bit more about yourself. we will have plenty of time.”

as theodore promised, the drive to brackley was painless. yet, as the car pulls up to the gate, your heart skips a beat.

this was no quaint english cottage.

toto’s brackley residence was a sleek and sprawling two-story home, a black and white exterior with massive, thick windows. your jaw almost drops, and theodore notices, letting out a hearty laugh, “don’t act so shocked, golden girl. i’m sure you’re aware toto is a very wealthy man.”

“i thought he would have kept things somewhat simple.”

“oh love,” theodore shakes his head, “you and i both know that toto is anything but simple.”

rolling down the window, theodore punches in a code, the gate sliding open. as the car lurches up the drive, your heart thumps in your rib-cage, blood roaring in your ears.

this was really happening.

you were really staying with toto.

“nervous?” theodore senses the shift in energy, “you have no reason to be nervous. he’s been anticipating your arrival. he’ll be happy to see you.”

“thank you,” you manage to muster a meek smile, “i-i just didn’t think we would get this far.”

“well savor the time together. time flies, especially in our world. one day you’re at a track, the next you’re in another country. he adores you, golden girl. so don’t you fret about that. just relax, and enjoy your time. i will be here in a couple of days to bring you to the airport for your departure to sazuka.”

“thank you,” at his words, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “i look forward to our next drive together!”

“as do i,” shifting the gears, theodore puts the car in park, slipping out of the driver’s seat, “we have arrived. let me get your bags.”

he strolls over to your door, opening it as you clamber out, stretching your sore legs.

no matter how much time you spent in a car, there was always that persisting stiffness.

you’d probably need a double-knee replacement by the time you were forty, but that was the least of your worries.

out of the corner of your eye, you notice a figure strolling towards the car. with the large stature, you knew it could only be one particular individual.

he’s dressed in a royal blue button-up, paired with khaki slacks. on his feet are earth-toned dress shoes. the blue hue of the button-up complements his dark hair, almost brightening his features, giving them a youthful glow. tufts of his hair are all over as the wind blows.

yet, he looks as gorgeous as ever, his toned muscles rippling under the thin fabric of the button-up.

“welcome to brackley schatzi,” the grin enveloping his face is radiant, “i hope the drive wasn’t too bad.”

“not at all,” you shake your head, the team principal nearly sucking the wind out of your lungs as he wraps his arms around you, squishing you against his chest.

“i missed you so much,” tender lips connect with your cheek, “good afternoon, theo! did she behave herself?”

“of course,” theodore promptly places your bag next to the entrance, suitcase in tow, “i have another commitment here soon, mr. wolff. i hope it is all right i placed her bags next to the door?”

“don’t worry about it,” toto’s fingers find yours, intertwining them together, “i’ll get them. please drive safe, theo.”

“i will, mr. wolff,” theodore dips his head, turning to you, he takes your hand, shaking it, “it was lovely to meet you. i look forward to our next meeting, golden girl. enjoy your time together, you two!”

“we will,” toto squeezes your hand, “goodbye, theo.”

“goodbye, mr. wolff!” theodore spins on his heel, making his way to the car, “behave, you two!”

in response, toto gives a thumbs up, theodore slipping back into the driver’s seat. as he peels off, toto shifts his body, facing you.

“charming, isn’t he?”

“he’s great! kept me entertained the whole drive!”

“i told him you have a short attention span so to keep you occupied,” toto shooks you a wink, earning an eye roll.

“i can’t stand you.”

“you’re standing right now, aren’t you?” his chuckle is light, “come, let’s head on in. i have lunch waiting for us.”

“you made me lunch?”

“yes, i’m going to drive you all the way out here just so starve you,” he scoffs, yet his tone says otherwise, “i have food ready. and wine, if you want some.”

“don’t tell me you want to get me drunk so i’ll confess all my secrets.”

“consider that my new goal for the afternoon,” toto grabs your bag, along with your suitcase. pushing open the door, he clears his throat, “welcome to my home away from home.”

as you step in the entrance, your eyes widen, lips parting.

the space was truly a reflection of toto. refined and elegant, with a hints of charm. the marble floors gleam under the soft lighting, rays of sun shining through the vast windows. the walls were covered in a menagerie of decor, from pieces of art to mercedes memorabilia. it was not the typical billionaire’s home, where the air felt sterile and cold.

this place was warm and full of life, coaxing you to stay.

“cat got your tongue?” his breath fans against your ear, a hand gliding along your back, “follow me, schatzi.”

“your home is beautiful.”

glancing over his shoulder, you are met with his gorgeous smile, dimples and all, “thank you, love. i’m glad you like it.”

trailing behind the austrian, you stroll down a long hallway, turning into the last room on the left. toto places your bag and suitcase next to a glass door, “this is my bedroom. you’ll be staying here with me.”

“straight to the bedroom huh?” you fold your arms across your chest, teasing, “you just couldn’t wait–”

“come here,” toto growls, hands grasping your wrists, bringing you in, “no, i can’t wait.”

looking up, you match his gaze, cocking your head, “what are you going to do about it?”

at your rebuttal, toto’s eyes narrow, “what do you think i’m going to do?”

“fuck me.”

“hmmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “you’re right, schatzi. i am going to fuck you. i’m going to fuck you till you’re weeping me for me to stop.”

“weeping?” your hands roam, tugging on his button-up, “i’d like to see you try.”

“oh schatzi,” he tsks, “you don’t know what you’re in for.”

“show me then.”

“i will,” lips ghost over yours, “i’ll show you how badly i missed you baby.”

as he kisses you, it’s tender at first, brimmed with the sweetness of reunion. one of his hands wraps around the base of your neck, tilting your head back as his tongue gains access to your mouth, the tang of redbull tracing your mouth. yet, as you whimper, a fiery hunger sets ablaze.

fuck, he missed you.��

he missed you more than he liked to admit.

tension hangs thick, clouding the space as his mouth places sloppy, wet kisses down your jawline, finding your neck. nipping gently, it takes every fiber in his being to resist the urge to just mark you all over. to leave marks where they could see. to make them wonder who was doing this to you.

but he couldn’t. not there.

in response, your hips buck forward, grinding against his. toto groans, his head rolling back.

there was not a single coherent thought in his mind.

only lust. and fuck, was it consuming him whole.

scooping you into his arms, he brings you over to the bed, your back meeting with the plush mattress.

“i can’t wait,” he pants, chest heaving, “i can’t wait any longer. i need you.”

“then take me,” your words drip like honey, oh so sweet, “make me yours, toto.”

jesus fucking christ.

he was going to fuck the shit out of you. right here, right now.

there was no going back.

he ached for it. he yearned for it. the fantasy flooded his dreams at night.

the things he wanted to do to you?

downright filthy. sinful, even

he couldn’t lose his inhibitions. not yet. he had to hang on.

however, at this point, toto was hanging on by a thread.

peeling your leggings and panties off, he tosses them to the floor, “sit up.”

you obey, nearly trembling with anticipation as fingertips hook the hem of your crewneck, pulling it over your head. nimbly, he hovers over you, finding the clasps of your bra. he undoes them, a crimson hue dusting his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you completely naked beneath him.

god, you were absolutely breathtaking.

every inch of you was stunning. every scar. every mole. every freckle. every stretch mark.

you were so fucking beautiful.

his hands fly to his button-up, eager for what was to come.

yet, your hands find his, “let me.”

toto bites his tongue as you carefully undo the buttons of his shirt, his cock twitching, aching for your touch as your fingers delve towards his belt. you unbuckle it, tilting your head back, batting your thick lashes.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

could this moment last forever?

“toto.”

“yes?”

“i-i don’t know if i can take it all,” there’s apprehension inflected in your tone, almost as if you were embarrassed, “to be honest, i’ve never–”

oh god.

this was going to ruin him.

just like he was going to ruin you.

“don’t worry,” a tender hand cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone, “i’ll go slow. i won’t make you take it all. i’ll take care of you baby, i promise.”

you nod, lips pursed as you tug on his slacks, hooking the hem of his boxers, “you’re just so fucking big. like holy shit.”

pride swells within the austrian for a moment, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “i promise you that it’s not as big as you think.”

“can i see for myself?” the question is so innocent, so pure.

yeah, he was going to ruin you.

he was going to make a mess out of you.

“lay down schatzi,” he orders, authority oozing into the words.

kicking off his slacks, he curses slightly as his boxers stick around one of his ankles. this wasn’t going to be perfect, but he wanted it to be. for you.

he wanted this to be a moment you remembered for the rest of your life. he wanted this memory to fill your thoughts every second of every day. he wanted you to touch yourself to this, desperate and oh so wet, throbbing for him. yearning for his mouth. for his touch. for him.

carefully, he climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. as you look down, you can feel his gaze searing into you, burning right through.

his cock was far bigger than your fantasies. it was thick, approximately eight or nine inches. you couldn’t tell. his tip was tinged pink, the glisten of precum catching in the light. veins wrapped around the length, throbbing as your hand wrapped around its base.

“fuck,” as he moans, you lick your lips, realizing how much you loved the sound that just filled your ears, “let me feel you, please.”

“please toto.”

swallowing thickly, he inhales sharply as he positions his tip at your entrance. applying pressure, a whimper rings out as he pushes in, your walls stretching.

your pussy was heaven. absolutely perfect as it wrapped around his cock, begging for more as he pushed further and further. you were absolutely drenched, the juices slick and oh so sickeningly sweet. he didn’t even have to taste you to know. he just knew you were sweet. like pure ambrosia.

perhaps he could get a taste.

“toto,” your lashes flutter, his name so perfect from your lips, “you feel–”

“your pussy is perfect,” he finds a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of your tight hole, “absolutely perfect baby. fuck, you’re perfect.”

skin connects with skin, the temperature of the room elevated as his hands found yours, pinning them to the bed. lips collide, the kisses desperate, hungry and bursting with need. as he picks up the pace, moans fill his mouth.

fuck, it felt like he was going to split you into two.

“t-toto,” there it was again, his name. music to his ears.

“yes baby?” a sheen of sweat clings to his forehead, tufts of hair dampened, “what is it? does it hurt? do you need me to slow down?”

“no. fuck me. just fuck me.”

oh god.

oh, fuck.

his cock twitches, the pleasure building in your abdomen as the tip brushes your g-spot, back arching, begging to be closer. closer to him.

could you be any closer to him in this moment? was it even possible?

before you know it, his arms wrap around your frame, picking you up off the mattress. he holds you close to his chest, one hand holding your head, cupping the back of your skull. the other remains on your lower back, gripping you tightly as the new angle sends bliss rippling all throughout your body.

he fucks you, and god there was no holding back. his cock was pounding into you now, showing no mercy. your ass slaps against his thighs, filthy noises flooding the space.

as you bounce, you tense, your walls practically squeezing him, “toto, oh my god, i’m going–”

“good girl,” his coos, “be a good girl, baby. cum for me.”

as you get closer and closer, toto watches. fuck, the way your lips were parted ever so slightly. the way hairs clung to your forehead. the way your lashes fluttered. all he could see was pleasure. pure, intense pleasure.

you unravel, coming undone.

that sight alone was enough to make him cum.

“come here,” toto hisses through gritted teeth, “come here baby.”

the moment his lips mold with yours, you feel his cock throb, pumping threads of cum into your weeping hole. your muscles spasm, shuddering as he pulls out.

the two of you study one another for a moment, catching your breath. fingertips brush stray hairs from your temple.

“i’m sorry.”

“for?” you nuzzle into his collarbone, relishing the way his cologne lingered, mixing with his natural scent.

“going too far.”

“that was not too far.”

tenderly, the austrian pulls you down with him, letting out a sigh as his head hits the pillow. your head remains against his chest, admiring the definition and tone for a moment. he peppers kisses along your forehead, browbone, and cheeks.

“if i ever go too far, let me know.”

“i think we’re both in too deep,” you murmur, “you’re lucky you had the blinds drawn.”

“that would be something,” his chest vibrates as he speaks, “could you imagine? some random mercedes intern witnessing the team principal fucking the most beautiful woman on the planet?”

however, a gleam catches your eye.

on his left ring finger, your heart sinks as you notice the ring.

his wedding band.

toto senses your silence, the way you tensed up against him, “what is it schatzi?”

“why are you still wearing your wedding band?”

oh, so you had noticed.

“it’s complicated.”

“complicated?” your voice falters as you prop yourself up with your elbow so you could meet his gaze, “you’re wearing your fucking wedding ring. it’s not that complicated.”

“yes, i am, wearing my ring,” he exhales, “would you prefer me to take it off? it has no meaning anymore. susie and i are divorced. we finalized it last december. when we signed the papers, we made a mutual agreement to wear our wedding bands when we were in the public eye. it keeps the speculations at bay. it’s mostly for the sake of my children. and for her sake. we respect one another and i would hate for her hard work to be diminished by rumors and gossip.”

although his words were sincere, your heart races still, anxiety a swirling torrent in your stomach, “how long have you been separated?”

“almost three years. we separated in july of 2021.”

“oh,” you suck in a breath, shame washing over you, “i-i’m sorry for the sudden questions. i just–”

“it would complicate your feelings for me. and no one wants too mess around with a married man. i get it baby, i really do.”

although he provided a very base-level explanation of his failed marriage, toto was more than willing to go into more depth. that is, if you wanted. more than anything, he wanted you to know. that aspect was becoming increasingly frustrating, as the team principal tried to maintain that dominant, bold, persona.

you were making him weak. his little soft spot.

well, not so little these days.

“i cannot stand how well you read me,” rolling your eyes, you turn your back to him.

“don’t turn your back on me now,” he tsks, “do you believe me, schatzi?”

“i don’t think you could ever lie to me.”

“i couldn’t,” toto leans over, placing soft kisses all over your shoulders, “i think it would destroy me. the guilt would be too much to bear.”

“if we��re spilling secrets now,” you roll over, face-to-face once again, “i have another question for you.”

“all right.”

“why did you approach james about my contract behind my back?”

for once, the team principal is caught by surprise, his heart skipping a beat.

the hurt plastered across your features is clear, your brows furrowed, eyes narrowed. there’s a glimmer of anguish in their depths, slightly glossy from the threat of tears.

“i wanted to gauge how he felt if you were to leave williams,” that was the truth, really, no other intentions behind it, “he was not too keen to discuss it, but i just wanted to know how upset he would be if you were to sign with another team. i did it for you, to soften the blow.”

“soften the blow?”

“yes,” toto nods, “to soften the blow when you tell him you’re leaving williams and signing with mercedes.”

“you don’t know that for–”

“but i do,” his voice hardens, “i do know. we can’t just lay here and deny that in your heart, you want to be with me at mercedes. you’ve made the decision already. you just haven’t figured out how you’re going to approach james, alex, or your team.”

biting your tongue, you turn your head, averting his gaze.

toto was right. you had made your decision.

it was just a matter of time before you had to face the facts.

“i’m right, aren’t i?”

“you are,” you huff, squeezing your eyes shut, “i-i just don’t know how to tell everyone. i don’t know how to tell my parents. i don’t know how to bring it up to james. it’s just so.. fuck. it’s so fucking overwhelming to think about.”

“then let me help you.”

“how?” you inquire, “how would you possibly do that?”

“i’ll keep my distance from here on out, but i will help you draft up a letter that you can give to james. or, i can help you practice what you’re going to say. just let me help you schatzi,” fingers grasp your chin, turning your head.

“you hear me? i’ll help you.”

“can we just worry about it later?”

“of course,” strong arms envelop your frame, drawing you in against his body, “for now, we can snuggle. would you like that?”

“i would.”

your tough exterior completely crumbles as his mouth hovers by your ear, murmuring words in german. desperately, you ache to know what he said. was it something important? or just sweet nothings?

sometimes he was a difficult man to decipher.

“hey, have you opened that gift yet? the one i brought to you in jeddah?”

“no,” you admit, heat billowing into your cheeks, “i have a hard time accepting gifts.”

“clearly.”

before you can respond, he’s up from the bed, strolling over to your bags. unzipping your carry-on, he searches for that parcel. fishing it out of your bag, he sets in on the bed, sliding on his boxers before plopping it in front of you.

“open it. right now.”

“right now?” you echo, “toto, i–”

“open it.”

“fine,” nimbly, your fingers untie the bow, peeling away the wrapper.

underneath the paper, there is a tiny velvet box. it’s long and slender, rectangular in shape.

“what is this?”

“open it and you’ll know,” toto urges, following your every move, anticipating your reaction.

opening the box, your heart swells at the sight before you.

it’s a bracelet, a dainty figaro chain, complete with a charm. the charm is an outline of the saudi arabian track. picking it up, you inspect it, noticing a date engraved on the backside of the charm.

“how were you able to get this so quickly after the race?”

“i have my ways,” toto bears a sheepish grin, “do you like it?”

“like it? i love it.”

well, you didn’t love it. you fucking adored it. it was perfect, and so you. it was something that you could wear everyday, a constant reminder of the years of effort to get you here. not to mention it was gorgeous, the chain shiny, freshly polished.

a hand reaches out, plucking the chain from the box. his brows are knit together with concentration as he slips the chain around your wrist, ensuring it’s safely clasped.

“i figured it would be something you could always wear. a reminder of when you made history.”

“it’s beautiful,” sitting up, you shift your weight to your knees as you wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you, toto.”

“always, schatzi. don’t worry, i will always spoil you.”

as toto nuzzles into the crook of your neck, he was well aware of one thing.

you had made your decision.

you hadn’t outright said it, but he knew you made your decision.

you would be signing to mercedes for the 2025 season.

you were finally going to be by his side every day.

there was no more in-between. no more will she or won’t she. no more nights of him lying awake, wondering where you stood. no more driving himself insane pondering all of the possibilities that could unravel.

he had you.

you were all his now.

and god, did that leave such a sweet taste in his mouth.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @joalslibrary @martwll @prettiest-at-the-party @pucksandpower @kravitzwhore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @annewithaneofthegreengable @persona1lies @zoeyjadetice2010 @whoisss @sinners-98-world

if i missed anyone, please let me know! also, you are more than welcome to be added to the taglist! thank you for reading! <3

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #toto wolff smut #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x you #female driver au #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen

621 notes · View notes

phone4pills · 1 month ago

Text

ASKING YOU boy.EXE

warnings

nerves sent shivers down your spine, forming goosebumps all over your arms. you knew you’d have to tell him at some point, but it was all a lot. maybe you could wait until the time actually came. no. that’d be unfair. to you. to Chris.

when you found him, the was doing crosswords in the new hoodie you’d bought him that he adored. his senses were quite delicate and most clothes were uncomfortable to the boy, but the hoodie was perfect. it was soft and not scratchy, fully cotton. but not too warm, in fact it was quite cooling and he found it easier to remain a safe temperature when wearing the piece. “hey, Chris. can we talk about something?”

his head raises, eyes meeting yours with the usual sincerity behind them. his full attention was on you and you debated changing the topic altogether. but you had to talk about this. get it out of the way. “so… uh, you know I’m not gonna live forever, right?”

he nods, patting the spot next to him on the sofa. the atmosphere thickens with the weight of such a sombre conversation on board. “was just wondering, do you want me to… turn you off before I pass away? you don’t have to answer that now-”

he cut you off, clearing his throat. his words came out hushed and kind of scratchy, like there was sorrow scraping his throat. “uh… I uh, I guess it’s your choice.” you shook your head. it wasn’t your choice.

you created Chris and when you decided to keep him on that was when your rights over him became irrelevant. he was his own being in a way. he was made to explore the world and be around humans. but would want to live forever? to watch as the world developed, or destroyed itself? would he feel alone without his creator by his side? but how could he go on living, knowing one day he’d be turned off and have no choice to see the world ever again.

“would I… get to be with you if we both die?” your heart shattered at his words. because you knew that wasn’t a possibility. wherever you ended up after your death, Chris wouldn’t be there. he couldn’t. he was a robot. when he was turned off he’d never exist again, anywhere. wasn’t that meant to comfort you? knowing it wasn’t that deep because he wasn’t a real person? why didn’t it feel good? why didn’t it ease your pain? you wanted to be with Chris forever. no until. simply forever. but you couldn’t. and you both knew it.

“no Chris… we’d uh, we’d not really see each other again.”

Little angst, do you guys think robot!Chris wants you turn him off? Would you do it anyway, out of love or something else?

- ©phone4pills

#phone4pills #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #ʀᴏʙᴏᴛ!ᴄʜʀɪs

227 notes · View notes

sustiawan-author · 1 month ago

Text

Neil Perry SFW Alphabet . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Aw finally a post for our favorite Puck. Let's get into it.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He is so sweet. He's the sweetest boy you've ever met, and it shows each time you spend time with each other.

He shows his love through gift giving; buying you notebooks before you even asked just because he knew you've ran out of paper (he found this out by taking a peek at your desk when he visited you), finding floral hairclips at the store just to buy them for you because he thought they'd look "just heavenly" on your hair (lol).

He's lowkey obsessed with making you look like a Shakesperean dream. To him, you are already — but looking the part? Ohhhh boy, you'll get him breathless. And I'm talking about greek stolas, medieval wear, all that good stuff.

Accompanies you on errands (yes, he's big on quality time.) You probably cycled your bicycle around town to find some newspapers to read, and he'd be there with you. Either walking along, or riding the bike while you sit tight and hold on at the backseat. It's just so romantic.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

So annoying lol.

It's only fair since he visits you so often, but he'd find any — and I mean any — excuse to be with you. Maybe he'll say to his father how he's got homework (which he's probably smart enough to not need to be tutored by the girl across the street from his school), or he'll use the recreation time provided by Welton to plan anything with you.

Honestly, he's too much of a romantic to not be so obvious about it.

He might not tell his parents yet until he's ready because as far as he can allow it, to them you're just his "extremely good friend (for now)". But to his friends, he makes it clear as day — no matter how much he attempts to deny it.

They just know someone like him won't be going out for three hours without clear purpose, okay.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

HE LOVESSSS IT OMG.

Girl give this man a hug. Many hugs. Deep, devoted hugs with the sweetest kisses.

Any of you who volunteer to love on this man with faith, the entire fandom will THANK YOU because at least now he knows someone has true faith in him.

Kiss his hair, kiss the side of his mouth, kiss his forehead. He loves it all. There's no such thing as too much affection with him

If you're in public, he'll settle for holding your hand. It shows others that you're his.

If you kiss him in public, though, he probably won't be as good at kissing you back. He gets far too red, far too quickly. It emits that stifled, giddy laugh he always does.

Hold on to his bicep. It's his favorite thing in the world. Makes him feel in charge, like he's your husband or something. He eats that UP.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

YESSSSSSSS. (lol)

Almost to a fault since he's the rushing type. His dream, even if he hadn't realized it as strongly before he got inspired by Keating, is to love and be loved.

Slipping a ring on your finger is just the cherry on top then ^_^

Neil loves you. He loves imagining a future with you, the present with you, and how different his past would be had you been there for him and near him.

He kisses you so gently each time that he wishes no more for you two to have your own space, to have your own privacy, to love without the meddling of others (including his parents.)

That being said he is... not too good at cooking with a recipe.

He's amazing at doing individual tasks, though, we have to give credit to that. Neil helped his mother out in the kitchen often already, so he knows how to cut, slice, mix, blend. All that. He probably knows how to make a good stew, but you have to watch over him and guide him over the recipe or he'll accidentally knock over the food processor.

He's a clean guy, okay. Both to himself and his surroundings.

Neil irons his clothes himself, he steams them even, he washes them, he sweeps and wipes his dorm. You'll be satisfied.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I SEE YOU ANGST LOVERS BEING SNEAKY WITH THIS LETTER

Thank you, next.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He's gonna roar at this lol.

Like,,, really quick. Right after school. A maximum of a year.

He's just ready to treat and commit to YOU, okay... like please let him build a home and life with you.

His parents would expect that he settles down with a nice girl too, so having you is a blessing to them.

Speaking of their conventionality and conservativeness, Neil would probably find it so relieving if you do want to marry him just as quick.

Give this man kids y'all.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

♡o♡ He loves you. No question about that.

You know how he has big hands? He says their purpose is to hold yours when you almost trip after trying to manouver around a big oak tree.

That's your hangout spot btw lolz.

He always gives you those puppy eyes when he's admiring you, resting his chin on his arm when you're doing something.

Neil smiles wider when you poke his nose and nuzzle it against his.

Yeah, pretty self explanatory.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

They're warm, loving. It feels like home, like safety. He's so broad and tall that hugging him feels like a weighted blanket.

You love it most when he's rested against you when you both fell asleep after reciting Romeo and Juliet with each other.

He hugs you like you could dissipate from him any second; with desperation, a little bit of insistence, and a lot of devotion.

Sigh.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

This is adorable.

Neil saw you, his "best friend" (whom his parents already approve of, so thank goodness for that peace), sitting on his second play; a proud beam on your face and clapping the loudest applause.

It's only possible that he got to participate in it to begin with because you convinced his parents during dinner that theatre could "provide as a stress relief" for him before he entered Ivy League.

At the end of Hamlet, he pulls you onstage and kisses you in front of everybody. Yes, even his buddies.

He gave you his biggest bouquet full of carnations, delphiniums, lilacs, and pomanders and latently (not so much) declares you as his.

You can't help but agree since he's been the love of your life even before you've both verbally admitted it.

He kisses your temples right after, a show of gratitude, and whispers those words you've only heard in your dreams. Everyone's never been so proud of him. You're his success.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Ohhh yikes. This one is interesting.

He does. LOLLLLL

Let's say you've married (YAYY omg), and you've settled down for quite some time. Maybe a year or two. He's your loving husband, and you're his delightful darling wife.

One day, he got an invitation for a reunion (yes, at Welton.) You both attend and all went well, but there was a reason why he didn't tell anyone outside of the Dead Poets about you while you two were in high school.

You're pretty. So, so pretty. All he's ever hoped and dreamed of — and apparently others too.

There's a reason why he grasps your shoulder closer during the event when his other classmates came to say hello.

It's less jealousy and more protectiveness.

He's your knight in shining armor and he needs to know you keep viewing him that way :( even while others might not believe so.

But he's awesome, so a little rub on his chest and a nice "I'll get us some hors d'eouvres, darling? I know how much you love the raspberry tarts ^_^" gets him all settled

And a bit smug, let's not lie.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Oh, this is soooo ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

He cups your jaw and caresses his thumb there, and he kisses you like a promise. Like he's going to war.

Don't be surprised. You literally married a theatre kid.

Neil makes sure you're both somewhat secluded, be it under a sycamore tree or by the corner of the library shelves, and backs you up before kissing you like he'll be the only one you'll love for eternity.

He loves to be kissed by his knuckles. It makes him feel so mighty and brave. Don't ask me why, it's a man thing. Lol.

Sometimes he'll bury his face on your neck and hug you from behind. You two will share stories and he'll be content just guarding you there.

Sigh. Love.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Neil loves them. Finds them especially adorable if you were the one to interact with them.

He's especially good at handling his baby niece. She's just two years old, but she calls him 'Ni-ni' each time she visits his parents' home.

They almost always make him babysit her when the parents are downstairs eating or just talking, and he always has such good fun.

He's an imaginative man, so he'll go out of his way to read a story to her and make funny noises until she cackles in her little voice and tumble backwards.

It all changed when you came into the picture.

He doesn't wait until he gets told to take care of her now — no, he offers himself to the position.

His parents love inviting you over for dinner or for thanksgiving and other holidays if you're not back at your parents' place, so he'll bring his niece to you and you'll both take care of her together.

It's the most fun he's ever had.

Let's say he'll probably talk about having kids that exact same night. Just entertain him. He's having a moment.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Once you're married, he probably works quite early. So you'll help fix his breakfast and he'll kiss you on the forehead, and while you're cooking, he'd tell you how gorgeous you are, how he's so happy to have you there, and how he's going to write you in his next playwright.

He groggily insists you should stay home beforehand, but both of you know you two are far too carpe diem-ish to sit still and do nothing.

You spend the day doing activities with the other in mind and heart.

Such a lovely routine.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Assuming he works long hours, by the time he's home you're both already tuckered out.

He mumbles something incoherent and slips behind to hug you like a grizzly bear preparing for hibernation

You just giggle and remind him to change and wash up first, since you've gotten a bit more sleep while waiting for him to return.

Neil pouts when you prompt him to get upright, but he eventually caves when you kiss him with the promise of more affection when he manages to change his clothes and get a nice wash.

Then he goes down to lock up everything before you two go off to peaceful slumber.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He's the type to prefer the attention to be just around the both of you in the beginning.

He generally avoided talking about things surrounding his home life, or other things that revolve around that.

Once you've become familiar to one another and you assure him, with great vigor, that whatever he's been through or will go through in terms of family ties won't deter you from the relationship, then he'll open up.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He's only ever angered by principle. If injustice is committed, if the people he cares about ever gets into trouble or unjustified danger, or something unfair ever happens.

He used to bottle it up and just say 'forget about it,' but you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms and berated him there and then.

Ever since, he's seen his anger as not a form of rebellion, but as an expression of care and genuine passion.

"If my love that envelops you is one of good passion, then I don't doubt that my rightful anger should be any less than."

Read that in his voice because yes, he said that.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He's a poet, baby.

Yes he does.

Even the way your fingers move in tandem when you wash your hair does not get missed out by him.

He's not perfect, though, and he knows you prefer him this way; he forgets your friends' names. Lol. I have to say it. Unless you mention them a lot of times or they're seen like 24/7 with you, he won't be able to tell who they are.

Everything else, he associates with you though. Like to him, your favorite color is his definition of you, your favorite flower is you. You become everything he's remembered about you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Ah, love.

He remembers the moment you first declared your feelings for him, backstage when everyone has started to go home.

He stayed a while to talk to you with the excuse of taking off his costume and makeup, but you stayed there.

You sat on top of the vanity, swinging your legs as you looked up to him with sparkles of admiration in your eyes.

He leaned closer, savoring you. He didn't want to kiss you yet. Neil just wanted to make sure you're there, you're his, and that moment was shared just between the two of you.

His greatest dreams of love had just been declared into fruition, and he couldn't have been happier.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

The first bit of this has already been answered so the second part it is.

He does it way more to you, but anytime you do it back, he finds it soooo ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ when you step up for him.

Like the time you had to convince his parents? Or that one time you snapped back a snarky retort at Charlie for teasing him? Ooh boy. Gets him going.

He just likes the feist in you, okay.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

This is the sweetest thing because tell me he wouldn't absolutely write a journal's worth of poems for each of your birthdays.

He has the money to buy you trinkets and he would, like heart-shaped pendants, flower promise rings.

But he also loves to put in effort for the DIY gifts. I'm talking about scrapbooks with the photo of you two together, complete with the lipstick kiss mark you've left on his old notebook, torn neatly and stuck to the journal with some patterned tape.

His concept of love is to go all out for his beloved. In this case, you ♡☆♡ ^_^

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

I'm gonna be so real...

He is such a crybaby when he's sick.

He'll go all out with the sniffles, the red nose and the coughing.

"Honey, come on. Please :(( I can't grab it myself," as he feigns reaching for the flu medicine. He hides himself under the pillow and whines for you.

You dated and married a theatre kid. Don't blame me for his dramatics.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Oh, man lol. Boy has his self perception changed since he's met you.

"Honey, don't you think I look just as divine as you are? My arms grew quite stronger," as he flexes in front of the mirror. And he is locked IN to his reflection as he mutters this.

He used to be quite modest about himself, but now he's thrown it all to the side. Thanks to your endless compliments and praise that he let into his head!

"Darling, won't you hold the mirror for me, please? Need to look my best as your man."

You smack his arm with a hearty laugh before you two go out. He loves it.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He's a lovely, mature, and sane man.

Secure attachment is all I'll say.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Let me just mention a couple of out-of-context phrases he'd say to you.

"But I wanted those bags of candies!"

"You promised to stay" (yes, he is guilt-tripping you. he does that often with his puppy, brown eyes)

"I love the way you smell. Honey, you're just as good as pie."

Like dude alright you're smitten leave all of us be.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He has an unspoken (yet often expressed) disgust about porridge.

Yes, he eats it when he's sick because he couldn't possibly have said no to his mother. But yes, he does gag a number of times when she isn't in the room because of how awful the texture is.

If he's sick, just make him soup. He wouldn't ever tell you if he doesn't like your cooking, but for the sake of his stomach.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Y'all r gonna laugh so hard but he's a drooler.

Like he drools and he curls up like a humbug.

It's okay, just put a napkin on top of his pillow and the problem will be solved.

You won't be able to deny his bear hugs anyway and you love him too much so.

You'll live.

taglist ⤷ @astridstark13

185 notes · View notes

querenciasturniolo · 1 year ago

Text

guest ⮕ m.s.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, awkward flirting, embarrassment

summary: request

a/n: this was requested by @rainsoakedphoenix, and i had SO much fun writing it (even though it took ages) ! sorry for the mix up, i hope this works 😭💓 i wrote this while watching the new season of heartstopper, which is AMAZING by the way

(this is like 89% dialogue, which i’m sorry if it wasn’t your vision, but i tried my best 🤞🏻)

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

“Good morning campers, and welcome to the Cut the Camera podcast. I’m Nick Sturniolo.”

“I’m Matt Sturniolo.”

“And I’m Chris.”

Your eyes flickered between the three of them, reaching your hands up to adjust your headphones. Nick finally turned his head to you.

“We have a special guest for this episode, introduce yourself.” He said.

You looked at one of the cameras and smiled, lifting your hand to wave.

“Hey, I’m Y/n.” You said, wincing slightly. “Jesus, that was awkward, someone else talk now.” Matt pulled a face, you looking over at him and mocking him playfully.

“Like some of you know, Y/n is one of our good friends from home. She hasn’t been in much of our content because she doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing, but that’s fine, we love her anyway.” Nick said. You scoffed and leaned back in the diner seat, pulling the mic with you.

“It’s not that I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m just an awkward piece of shit.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “S’not my fault your fans love watching me suffer.”

“Well that turned dark. Anyway, Y/n, why don’t you introduce the topic.” Chris said. You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Today we’re talking about how the four of us met, and how I’ve continued to endure their torture for so long.” You paused, Matt’s jaw slack as he looked over at you. You grinned and shook your head. “No, I’m kidding. They’re pretty great, I’m glad they’ve tortured me for this long.”

Chris scoffed. “You love us and you know it.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what I said, but if you want to get all mushy already, then yes, I love you guys.” You said.

Nick awed next to you, Matt leaning over and bumping your shoulder with his.

“You’ve always been the lovey-dovey one. Y/n has called me at like six o’clock on a random Tuesday before just to tell me she was thinking about me.” Nick said. You covered your face with your hands and groaned.

“God, why must you expose me? Let them think I’m dark and gloomy.” You grumbled.

Matt scoffed then, the audio coming through your headphones clear enough for you to peek an eye through your fingers. “None of them think you’re dark and gloomy, they’ve seen you in videos before, dude. Accept the fact that you’re a softy.” He teased, your jaw practically hitting the floor.

The conversation went on like this for about twenty minutes, the four of you talking and bickering back and forth. The conversation ran off the tracks quite a few times, and Matt tried reeling it back in as best as possible.

“So, back to the topic at hand—”

“Nick, what did you say?” Chris asked, completely cutting Matt off.

“I was just saying that was bullshit.” Nick said.

“Guys, what are we even—”

“How is what I just said bullshit?” Chris asked, the both of them in their own little world.

Matt sighed and looked at you, shrugging his shoulders. You turned to face him fully, resting your arm on the back of the booth. “So anyway, what’s an average day in the life of Matt Sturniolo?” You asked. Matt frowned and adjusted himself to face you completely.

“What?” He asked, pulling the mic towards him.

“What’s an average day in your life?” You repeated, raising your eyebrows.

Matt’s frown relaxed as he thought, shrugged, and finally spoke. “I’d say; wake up, shower, eat, go to meetings, come home, go to bed, repeat.” He held his hands out to count on his fingers, your eyebrows raising as you listened, no emotion on your face.

“Wow, riveting.”

Matt scoffed and shook his head, opening his hands and gesturing them towards you. “Please, tell me about your extraordinary day to day schedule, I’d love to hear it.”

“Of course you would. I happen to have a day packed full of important tasks.” You said, lifting your chin sarcastically.

“Oh, really? Name one.” He said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, I work.” You started, Matt nodding and pursing his lips.

“Oh, you work, do you? And what do you do after that?” He asked, your eyebrows lifting and your jaw going slack.

“Well, if you must know, after work I go home and eat and then shower and go to bed.” You said matter of factly, Matt staring at you completely unamused.

“That has got to be the most boring play-by-play I’ve ever heard.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, and yours was better, Matt?”

“I think so. What do you do for work?” He asked, the corner of his lips turned up in a half smile.

You sighed and shrugged your shoulders. “Retail. It’s not the most glorious job, but it gets the bills paid.”

“Yikes, customer service.” He winced, to which you shrugged your shoulders again.

“Like I said, not the most glorious job. I deal with a lot of dickheads, but the regulars are nice.” You said, grabbing your cup and taking a sip of it. You jutted your chin at him. “It’s your turn to ask a question, I don’t think they’re gonna stop any time soon.”

Matt hummed and thought for a moment. “Um, what’s your favorite color?”

“That’s really the best you could come up with, Matt?” You said, a laugh leaving your lips as he looked at you in mock offense.

“At least it’s not as mundane as ‘what do you do everyday’, Y/n. Cut me some slack, I’m trying here.” He retorted, your hands going up before you answered.

“It’s blue.”

“Lame.” He said, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Matt, that’s literally your favorite color, too.” You said, Matt scoffing.

“You don’t know me.” He mumbled, a laugh bubbling out of you as you adjusted in your seat, scooting the slightest bit towards him.

“I’ve known you my entire life, you dork. That argument is invalid.” You said.

Matt pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, really studying him for the first time in awhile. You reached forward and lightly pinched a lock in your fingers and twirled it. “Your hair is getting long.” You said. There was something in Matt’s eyes that you couldn’t quite place, but the apples of his cheeks were tinged pink.

“Yeah, I need to cut it soon.” He said, his voice quiet.

You nodded your head, letting go of the lock of hair and resting your hand back on the booth centimeters away from his. “If that’s what you want.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he lightly jabbed the tips of your fingers with his.

You paused, realizing how passive it had sounded. You immediately shook your head. “No, oh my God, nothing! It was just an observation.” You said, resting your hand on his.

“So you wouldn’t care if I shaved my head?” He asked, mischief glinting in his eyes. Somehow, your fingers ended up entwined, but both of your palms were resting on the back of the booth. It was comfortable, but new, and you didn’t know exactly how to navigate this. You shrugged your shoulders and pulled your headphones off of your head and rested them around your neck.

“I wouldn’t care, no. Just because I think your hair looks cute long, doesn’t mean I’m going to freak out if you change it.” You said honestly. Matt blinked, processing your words before he replied.

“You think my hair looks cute long?” He asked. You nodded your head, ignoring the burning in your face.

“That is what I just said, yes.” You said, trying to sound like it was no big deal

“Wow, admitting you think I’m cute on recording? That’s crazy.” You could tell he was teasing, and by the color of his cheeks, you could tell he didn’t mind.

You cocked an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side as your smile grew. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that you’ve been practically holding my hand for this entire conversation?”

“I haven’t?” He said, immediately pulling his hand from yours and resting it in his lap, his eyes darting downward. You smiled and shook your head, teasingly gesturing around the room.

“Matt, it’s literally on camera, from multiple angles.” You said, Matt’s eyes meeting yours. He studied your face and eventually smiled and rolled his eyes, the awkward tension he was radiating before slowly dissipating.

“Yeah, okay, whatever.” He mumbled, adjusting his headphones before meeting your eyes again. You opened your mouth to speak, but were quickly interrupted.

“Oh my God, this is honestly disgusting.”

You whipped your head around to Nick, your eyes wide as he met you with an incredulous stare.

“You guys have been flirting like, the entire time. I’m surprised I haven’t thrown up yet.” He finished, your face on fire as your eyes flickered to Chris’ amused smile.

“Honestly, Nick and I stopped arguing like, five minutes ago. We just wanted to see how long it would take the two of you to notice.” You looked back at Matt, who was awkwardly laughing into his hands and shaking his head. “Clearly, way too fucking long. Can we get back to the topic of our joint childhoods now?” Chris finished.

You cleared your throat and nodded, adjusting yourself in the booth so you were facing forward and your shoulder was to Matt.

“Where were we again?” You asked, Nick jumping into the conversation effortlessly.

The rest of the podcast went smoothly, the four of you in almost perfect harmony for the rest of the time, the little embarrassing interruption nearly forgotten.

It was nearly forgotten until Matt’s hand rested over yours under the table and entwined with yours. You felt your face heat up and the corners of your mouth twitch, but you didn’t say anything or make anything obvious.

Matt was your best friend, and as affectionate as the two of you were, hand holding was never on the list until now—and honestly, you didn’t mind.

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

2K notes · View notes

nervoussagittarius · 9 months ago

Text

hey, let’s not be alone tonight

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: matt introduces his girlfriend to the world through a video on his personal channel, request

warnings: extreme fluff, maybe some swearing who knows lol

matt sat in the driver seat of his car looking down at his lap. his face displayed a slightly distraught look as he glanced up into the camera.

“hi guys welcome backs to my personal channel…god i hate filming by myself.” he said with a sigh.

his gloomy look soon brightened into a smile as he stated “luckily i’m alone tonight” and turned the camera hoping both of you were in frame. you simultaneously laughed at his little bit before realizing that the camera was in fact very much crooked.

“hey matt,” you said pointing to the lens.

“oh fuck, let me fix it. hang on guys” he said holding a hand up to the camera in a “wait” motion .

matt quickly got out of the car making his way around to the front. he conducted you on which way to move the camera so both of you were evenly in the frame.

you tried to concentrate at the task at hand, but everytime you looked at matt for direction he made a funny face back at you, making you laugh.

“is that good? i can’t tell” you said calling to matt. he sent you a thumbs up in response, and made his way back to his seat.

matt and you were in sync as you looked at each other, then to the camera, and then back to each other.

“you ready?” he questioned reaching down to hold your hand over the center console.

“absolutely” you replied.

“guys, you were all wrong…. i’m coming clean and telling you that i’m still as single as i’ve ever been” matt said with a very serious look on his face.

“what?” you exclaimed with a slight giggle, looking at matt. he tried not to break character, but didn’t last very long as you poked his cheek getting him to smile.

“i’m just kidding,” he said “this is my girlfriend y/n. all of you have been speculating so we thought it was time to announce it.”

”you can talk you know” he chuckled softly squeezing your hand.

“i know, i just didn’t want to cut you off” you whispered, looking into his blue eyes as they softened at your statement.

“hi guys, i’m y/n” you finally repeat waving at the camera.

matt couldn’t take his eyes off of you. you looked so perfect sitting under the lights of his car. he didn’t want to pressure you into having to succumb to parts of his lifestyle, but your willingness to participate in a video with him made him love you even more.

matt was very private with his personal business. he didn’t like people speculating or starting rumors. for the longest time he didn’t want to expose you to the hate that came from his job, but he wanted nothing more then to be able to show you off to the world. you were everything to him and he wanted to celebrate that.

“matt..” you said softly, grabbing his attention. “do you want to tell them what we’re doing today?”

“oh yeah, so i was gonna make an instagram story asking you guys to ask us questions, but i couldn’t figure out how to do it, and then i realized it would spoil the suprise. so nick and chris wrote us a couple questions that they figured you’d want us to answer.”

you released your hand from matt’s with a giggle at his statement, picking up your drink. this caught his attention as he quickly grabbed your drink from you, putting it in your other hand, and grasped the left one back in his.

this made you give him a “really?” look but he just responded with a shrug and a brief kiss to your cheek.

“alrighty” he said dragging out the y. “we’re gonna start out simple and take turns answering questions. y/n is going to go first with the question ‘how did we meet?’”

you laughed, “so matt and i actually have different views on how me met, but nick cleared it up for us because he has a better memory of the situation.” matt jokingly rolled his eyes and he looked at you intently.

“i know that we originally met at a vintage thrift store when i had complimented nick on his shirt. i was wearing this vintage leather jacket and he loved it, so he wanted to show matt and chris. that’s actually when we met, but matt claims he wasn’t there for that, so to him we met at a small gathering one of our mutual friends had for their birthday.”

“i promise i was not there when you first met nick and chris”

“how did they get to that vintage store then matt? you drive them everywhere.” you broke out in laughter at the dumbfounded look on his face.

“okay you may have a point, but i’m still sticking to my original story.” he said passing you the phone to ask the next question.

“okay baby, whatever you say.” you patted his cheek as he once again rolled his eyes at you lovingly.

“how long have we been together?” you asked.

he pretended to think for a second before saying “seven months. literally the best days of my fucking life.”

“really?” you said looking up at him with a small smile on your face.

“of course. i love being with you”

you guys stared at eachother for a few seconds before you cleared your throat looking away with a slight blush on your face.

“okay, next question.” you got out quickly, not being able to make eye contact with matt.

you and matt have been together for a decent amount of time, yet he still manages to suprise you and make you nervous daily. he thinks it’s cute, but you find it a little frustrating. he loves seeing how he can still make you blush just by looking at you. it boosts his ego and tells him he’s doing something right.

“how do you manage a healthy relationship? i feel like nick and chris are asking this questions for themselves because neither of them can stay in a relationship” matt laughed.

“i think it’s all about how you communicate and developing a flow that will bind both of your lives without disrupting the previous routine.” you said through giggles.

“it’s definitely important to make time for each other, but you also have to make time for yourself. especially with matt’s job being very time consuming. we’ve done a lot of trial and error to figure out what’s best for us and our relationship. matt and i also have a rule that we can’t go to sleep mad at each other so it kinda forces us to figure our shit out.”

“i agree.” matt says looking at the camera giving them a slight head tilt. he leaned his head back on his seat turning to look at you.

“okay last question for the night. would we ever start a channel together?”

“do you want to answer this together?” matt asks. you nod.

“on three” you reply.

three counts are made before you both answer. “fuck no” “absolutely not”

the serious faces you’re both making are soon broken as you fall into eachother laughing. a few seconds pass before matt lifts his head first placing a kiss to your hair.

“listen, we’re not saying that y/n will never appear in a video again, but neither of us want the hassle or the constant publication of our relationship on the internet”

“yeah, we’re definitely not one of those couples.” you say with a smile, still leaning your head on matt’s shoulder.

matt finally released your hand, grabbing the camera off the dash. you took this time to take a sip of your drink as matt placed the focus on you.

“any last words for the viewers?”

“we love you all and i hope you’re prepared for matt’s constant talk about me, because nick and chris complain about it all the time.”

you grabbed the camera pointing it at matt.

“and what are your last words mr. matthew sturniolo?”

he looked over the camera to you and then back to the lens.

“let’s kiss the camera, babe” he said.

you both leaned forward to place a short peck on the camera lens. pulling back, you both laughed at the fog and matt wiped the lens clean as he ended the video.

“do you think they’ll like it?” you asked softly.

“i think they’ll love it because you’re perfect, and funny, and beautiful, and i love you.” matt rambled.

“i love you too, matt,” you smiled.

you took his hand, once again, as he started the short drive back to his house.

comments:

i’ve never seen two people more perfect for eachother

the fact that matt wouldn’t let go of her hand the entire time did something to me

i don’t blame y/n. i too would get nervous if i was in the presence of matt sturniolo

nick and chris being the biggest supporters of their relationship and making them questions is so cute.

i can’t wait to see all of the posts matt makes about y/n now

crying at how adorable they are

an: i’m in love with this one and them. i hope y’all enjoyed it as well🤍🤍

#matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo imagine #matt x reader #sturniolo fanfic

794 notes · View notes

wlntrsldler · 10 months ago

Text

we can't be friends (wait for your love) | luke castellan

synopsis: where luke survives the battle of manhattan and returns to camp half blood, only to see you (his ex) in a new relationship.

based on we can't be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande

luke didn’t plan on making it out alive from the battle of manhattan, but here he was, back in camp half blood, wishing that he succumbed to his wounds instead of fighting to stay alive. the camp was different, cold and foreign to him, even though he’d spent a good chunk of his life on the campgrounds. all his best and worst memories were made at camp half blood, but that life seemed unreachable now. at this point, luke didn’t know if the memories that he recalled were actually his or if they were just tricks kronos was still pulling on him.

the campers knew him as the ‘traitor.’ the kids he used to help with their sword skills cowered in fear whenever he approached them. the apollo kids only tended to his wounds because they had to and even then, they glared at him and wrapped the bandages just tight enough not to cut off blood flow. the satyrs who used to slip him strawberries from their fields, spoke about him in hushed whispers whenever he walked by them. but the thing that hurt the most was seeing you walk around with theo harvey, hand in hand, just like he used to do with you.

he didn’t have the right to be upset. it’s been years since the two of you were last together, years since he held your hand in his, kissed your lips, felt you asleep on his chest. it was before he turned into this monster with hands stained with the blood of the people he considered friends, considered family. he knew you’d move on. he told himself that he wanted you to be happy, to receive the love that you deserved, but selfishly, he knew deep down that he wanted you to have that with him– not the theo harvey, child of athena, favored by the gods.

at first, luke thought he’d be able to make it through the summer. as far as he knew, the older kids didn’t stay at camp half blood throughout the year, but he was thoroughly disappointed when he found out that a lot of the older kids stayed to guard camp just in case something happened. luke blamed himself for his own suffering. getting used as kronos’ host hurt less than seeing your lipgloss on theo’s cheek when they sparred; or noticing that the necklace he made for you when he was 15 was replaced by the one that theo bought you; or hearing your giggles from across the campfire while theo whispered corny jokes in your ear. he did this to himself.

it made him sick to his stomach. he discreetly moved into the poseidon cabin with percy (he grew tired of his siblings falling silent every time he walked into the hermes cabin. he no longer knew how to sleep in silence because it was always loud and rowdy when his siblings were involved, but alas, that changed too). luke was scared of it at first, knowing that he was on thin ice with the gods, but percy, being percy, scoffed.

“you already tried to dethrone them,” the younger boy joked, trying to lighten luke’s broody demeanor, “i think you staying in a cabin you’re not assigned to is on the bottom of your list of offenses.”

“dude. too soon.”

“my bad.”

the trio tried their best to cheer luke up. they knew that it was probably difficult for him to come back to camp after everything, but it became clear quickly that luke’s mood was not just due to everyone at camp hating him, but rather because one person at camp wanted nothing to do with him.

anyone who saw you and luke interact before everything went down, knew that there was something between you guys that nothing in the world could touch. none of them knew the extent of your bond until it was your voice that snapped luke out of kronos’ control. it took one word. one syllable. luke. the second he heard your voice, it was like a switch was flipped in luke’s brain.

percy made an ill-timed joke after the dust cleared, “if y/n was all it took to bring you back, we would’ve dragged her to see you a long time ago, buddy. would’ve saved us a lot of time.”

“percy.”

on the way back to chb, luke revealed that he made a deal with kronos to keep you out of harm’s way. he only agreed to be kronos’ host if it meant that he would protect you, keep you away from all the bloodshed of the war. the titan agreed but underestimated your stubbornness and prowess. when you showed up to the battle of manhattan, a part of kronos knew that his plan was spoiled.

so luke’s actions, sulking during meals, spending too many hours training, opting to be alone, made sense to them. you hadn’t so much looked in his direction since he arrived at camp half blood; not even a smile, a wave, an acknowledgment of his presence. it was painful to watch luke stare at you from across the room, longing evident on his face, only breaking his gaze when theo finally showed up to take his usual spot next to you. luke still loved you, that part was clear, but at what point was it too much?

annabeth, who’d watched your love story unfold, and was your number one fan, was heartbroken to watch your relationship crumble. she liked theo, her half-sibling was great, but luke was her brother and as much as he messed up, she felt bad for him. you were it for luke. if luke was going to end up with someone, it was you. she always believed that it was written in the stars, crafted by the hands of fate, professed by the goddess of love herself, that in this life you and luke would prevail and when your time came to exist in the afterlife, you’d find each other in elysium. but with how things were looking, annabeth began to question her own belief system.

it happened during one of the many nights luke couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried. he threw on one of the hoodies he left behind at camp before sneaking out of the poseidon cabin to smoke a cigarette, a habit he picked up during his days on princess andromeda.

he saw you then, standing by the lake seemingly on patrol. he didn’t know that you’d be assigned to guard tonight. if he did, he probably wouldn’t have come out of the cabin. as much as he stared at you and scratched at his palms wanting to talk to you, he never made an effort to. he knew you well enough to know when you wanted nothing to do with someone and how you were treating him right now made your intentions very clear.

luke was trying his best to be quiet, but he accidentally burned the tip of his thumb with his lighter and let out a hiss. you turned around immediately, sword drawn, in a fighting stance. you narrowed your eyes, trying to make out who was out of the cabins this late at night.

“shit,” luke mumbled, stuffing his cig and lighter in his pocket. he’d been so distracted looking at you, trying to hide himself, that he didn’t notice the fire was so close to his skin. he raised his hands up, trying to show that he wasn’t looking for trouble, “i-i’ts uh, it’s just me. sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.”

you froze in your spot, arm slowly falling to your side. you placed your sword back in its place, walking over to him, “luke?”

it was pathetic how the corners of his lips quirked up in a smile at the sound of his name leaving your lips. he hadn’t heard it since that day and it made a warmth spread across his chest. he wiped the smile off his face as you got close enough to see him, afraid that you’d think he was making a joke out of the situation. he stood there awkwardly as your eyes studied his face and his body, probably assessing if he was a threat.

“hey, y/n,” your name tasted sour in his mouth. he hadn’t called you that in years, always referring to you as baby, or babe, or love, or another cringy pet name that you pretended to hate but the blush on your cheeks said otherwise. using your real name felt too formal, like you were strangers. perhaps you considered him a stranger now. the idea made luke want to disappear. “i just uh, came out to get some fresh air.”

you stayed silent, pursing your lips as you continued to stare at him. luke tried not to think about how much of a mess he looked right now. the sweater was a size too small on him, sleeves falling short on his wrists. his pajama pants were wrinkled and stained with mud where they dragged on the floor on his way to the lake. his curls were a mess on his head. he ran a hand through his hair one too many times while he tossed and turned on his cot. the bags under his eyes weren’t the most flattering and the smaller scars that had been added on his face since the battle were disgusting to look at.

he cleared his throat, “i can go back to the cabin, i-it’s really not a big deal. i’ll just crack a window open or something.”

“where are you staying?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, “i know you’re not sleeping in the hermes cabin. the stolls told me you haven’t been there in days.”

luke rubbed the back of his neck, “i’ve been staying with percy. ‘m not really welcomed in my cabin right now.”

“i see,” you replied.

“yeah.”

“you need to stop it.”

luke gulped, “stop what?”

“staring at me,” you licked your lips before taking your bottom lip between your teeth. you scruffed the bottom of your shoes on the grass, a tell that you were feeling awkward. he was brought back to the day you confessed your feelings for him.

you were sixteen, he seventeen, right after he returned from his quest. he’d taken you out into the woods to get away from the judgment of the campers about his failed quest. he was lying on his back, pointing out the constellations in the sky, when you got up with your hands on your back. you shyly rocked back and forth on the tips of your toes and the balls of your feet, staring down at him with a red flush on your cheeks.

you started dragging your feet on the floor, ignoring the dirt that kicked up from your actions that stuck on the fabric of your converses. you had mumbled that you liked him and luke couldn’t believe it. he asked you to repeat yourself, louder the second time, partly because he wanted to hear it again, and partly because he thought he was hearing things. when you groaned and walked away, fully believing that he was messing with you, luke jolted from his position and ran after you. he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around, proclaiming his own feelings for you in between fits of giggles and kisses to your cheek.

this scene was the opposite of that. your stare was cold and serious, needing to get this point across. luke thought you looked different. physically, you still looked like his y/n– same hair, same eyes, same lips, but the look on your face was distant. you’d never looked at him like this before, like you didn’t know him at all, like he had no place in the life you created for yourself. luke didn’t know if it hurt more to have you ignore him like you had been doing for weeks, or have you look at him like this.

“i have a boyfriend, luke,” you sighed, “you can’t keep looking at me like that.”

“i-i’m sorry,” he stuttered out, tears burning his eyes. “i just miss you.”

��please don’t do that,” you whispered, turning your head away from him. luke watched you wipe your tears with your forearm and all he wanted to do was engulf you in his arms like he’d done a million times before and hold you until the storm was over. “you don’t get to say things like that to me.”

luke rubbed his jaw, trying to keep his hands occupied, “you know i can never lie to you.”

“i need you to lie to me this time, okay?” you refused to look at him now. “i need you to say that you don’t feel anything for me anymore.”

“i can’t do that, y/n.”

“i spent years loving you and you left, luke. you chose to betray us,” you placed your palms on your stomach, trying to steady yourself. you felt like you couldn’t breathe. this is why you’d been avoiding him. you knew that the minute he made his way back into your life, you’d fall on your knees, at his mercy. a part of you knew that he wouldn’t do anything like that again, but you also knew that in the off-chance that he would, you wouldn’t survive a second blow. you barely made it out alive after the first one. losing luke for a second time would ruin you. “i like theo. i’m finally learning to live without you and i can’t lose all this progress over some wishful thinking. luke, i can’t do that.”

“it’s not wishful thinking,” luke replied, sniffling.

“stop it!” you sobbed, turning to look at him. your tears were streaming down your face, despair and hurt clouding your eyes, “stop it, please! i’m begging you to let me go. i-i can’t have you in my life. don’t you get it? i’m tethered to you. you’re the other half of my soul. you own a piece of my heart that i can never ever get back, but i-i’m exhausted trying to fight you off.”

luke’s shoulders deflated at the sound of agony in your voice. he took a step back, mouth opening and closing as he tried to will his mind to say something, anything, in response to you. but he couldn’t. where does he even start?

should he tell you that it was the memories with you that kept him sane all those years he was held captive? should he tell you that he visited camp half blood despite knowing that it would cause more harm than good during those years just in the hopes that he could catch a glimpse of you? should he tell you that when the corners of his vision began to blur, it was the feeling of your hands pressing against his wounds that made him fight to stay alive?

he’d stay alive just to feel your touch, warm and steady hands on his tattered skin as he’d always remembered, for a second longer. he’d use his last bit of strength to place a kiss on your knuckles, injuries be damned because he needed you to know how he felt. he’d use his last breath to tell you that you looked beautiful, bloodied and bruised, under the light of the world burning around you. he’d spend the rest of his life hated by everyone in the world just to have you glance in his direction. he’d spend his time in the afterlife in tartarus if it meant that he had a shot at rebirth, in a life where you loved him again.

“make it easier for me and put me out of my misery,” you choked out, “you at least owe me that decency.”

luke knew that he was difficult to love. his mom went crazy because she loved him. his dad abandoned him because he was too much. thalia hated him because of who he had become. annabeth still flinched when percy made jokes about kronos because it reminded her of what luke did. luke knew that loving him was a chore, a burden, but he never thought that loving him would cause someone so much suffering. especially not you, who told him once that loving him was effortless, as easy as breathing in oxygen in the air. you once said that loving him was simple. it was second nature to you.

now, he watched you cry out in pain. pain that he caused. and he knew he couldn’t in good conscience deny you of your request. luke stuffed his hands in his front pockets, “okay.”

he looked at you, for the last time, before walking away, stumbling in his steps as he left you alone.

#frances writes #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan fanfic #luke pjo #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you

559 notes · View notes

goldsainz · 3 months ago

Text

# RAFE CAMERON — L’AMOUR DE MA VIE !

MASTERLIST !

REQUEST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ once upon a time rafe was the love of your life, now he's just somebody you knew.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ angst, cursing, drinking, probably (definitely) ooc rafe but we move.

003. NOTE !

✯ first rafe fic!!! requests are open for him so please leave any ideas you have (angst, fluff & smut) cause your girl is inspireddd l i can't tell if this is good but oh well, that's what i get for writing this late at night. leave a comment or a reblog if you liked this! (had to repost lol)

word count : 3,5k

The room felt heavier than before, all of the bodies around you made you want to crawl out of your skin and run away from the party.

Rafe had his arm slung around a girl, her soft smile as she looked up at him made you want to puke. Or perhaps it was the alcohol. The feelings and drinks blended into each other, a concoction you were currently hating.

It was not right. Just a few months ago he was swearing his profound love for you, and now… Now he had found someone else. Someone who would fill the void you left, if there ever was one.

“Hey, there…” You heard a guy speak to your ear, his hot breath making you shudder.

“Huh?” Your brows furrow as you try to make out who’s talking to you but your vision is hazy.

“You’re cute, wanna go outside?” The guy, who you did not recognize, smirked as he looked at you. He placed a hand on your waist, turning you around so you were right in front of him and effectively taking Rafe out of your line of sight.

The question almost made you gag, was this your life now that you were single? You hoped not.

“Why… Why would l wanna go outside?” You slurred, ignoring the feeling of being looked at. Like someone was trying to make you combust with just their gaze.

“I think you know,” he whispers, leaning in as if he were going to kiss you.

You shook your head slightly, trying to push him away from you. “I want to go home,”

“I can take you home,” he offered. “Or better, back to mine.”

Suddenly, you felt someone pull you away from the guy. It didn’t take long for you to recognise the chest you were resting against, the hand grabbing your waist and the rough voice as he addressed the guy.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Rafe sneered at the guy, “You like taking advantage of drunk girls?”

“Hey man, didn’t know she was with you,” he said, raising his hands up as if that was the issue at hand.

“Doesn’t matter if she is,” he said harshly. “She’s drunk as fuck and you still wanted to take her back to your place.”

“Yeah, okay,” the guy rolled his eyes and started to walk away, as if he was annoyed at Rafe for pointing out his sleazy ways and cutting short his chance at a hookup.

You made a noise of protest when Rafe took his hand off your waist, which promptly made him place it back on it. Still, he wasn’t letting off on the guy. He never really did know when to back off.

“Next time I see you doing this shit I’m breaking your face!” He barked at the guy, making some heads turn at the commotion.

“You didn’t have to do that… I’m not yours anymore,” you muttered, blinking as you tried to clear up the fog you were feeling.

“Doesn’t matter, he was being a creep,” his voice was nicer, softer than before and it made your insides feel all fuzzy.

You sighed, leaning more into Rafe’s chest, the smell of his cologne was so familiar, grounding you in the chaos of the party. He held you steady, and for a moment, you almost forgot where you were. Almost.

“Rafe, I’m fine,” you whispered, though your words didn’t sound as convincing as you hoped. The world still swayed slightly, and even though you hated to admit it, you needed him right now.

Rafe didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he kept his grip on you firm, his fingers pressing lightly against your waist as if reassuring himself that you were still there. The silence between you stretched, only filled by the loud music of the party and the occasional laugh of people passing by. You felt your head clear slightly, but the emotions were still a muddled mess inside you.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you murmured, looking anywhere but at him.

“I know,” he replied simply. His voice was calm now, devoid of the anger from before, as if the guy bothering you had never existed.

You finally turned to face him, taking in the familiar features that once made your heart race but now only brought confusion. “Why are you doing this? You’re with her now.” Your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but the question weighed heavy between you two.

Rafe’s jaw clenched slightly as he stared ahead. “I don’t know,” he admitted after a long pause. “But I couldn’t just let him take you.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say next. The lines between you and him were so blurred now, tangled with old feelings and unspoken words. You weren’t sure if you wanted to unravel them or just let them be.

For a long moment, the two of you just stood there, suspended in the strange in-between space—somewhere between the past and whatever this was now. The party raged on in the background, but it felt distant, like white noise. All you could focus on was Rafe and the tension hanging between you both.

“Go back to your girlfriend,” you whispered, breaking the silence between you. The feeling of his touch on you was too much to bear, it reminded you of all the reasons why you fell in love with him and all the reasons why you broke up.

Rafe’s grip on your waist loosened slightly at your words, but he didn’t let go. He was holding on, maybe out of habit, maybe out of some twisted sense of obligation. You couldn’t tell, and you weren’t quite sure you wanted to know. The weight of his touch felt heavier now, like it carried all the things left unsaid between you; the apologies he never made and the lies you told yourself to survive the breakup.

“I’m serious, Rafe,” you continued, your voice wavering, but you pushed through. “Go back to her. You’ve moved on, right? Isn’t that what this is?” You tried to sound indifferent, but your voice cracked ever so slightly and he noticed immediately.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Is all he could muster, perhaps it was a pathetic response but it was better than nothing, right? He knew how much you hated his silence, the unspoken words and the way he pushed his feelings down.

You stared at him, processing what he had just said. “She’s not your girlfriend?” you repeated, your voice flat, masking the confusion and the small flicker of something you didn’t want to acknowledge—hope.

Rafe shook his head slightly, his jaw tight. “No. She’s… it’s not like that.”

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh, unable to contain it. “Then what is it like, Rafe? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve moved on pretty easily.” You didn’t want to sound hurt, but you couldn’t help it.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face like he was trying to buy time. “She’s… she’s not you.”

“And yet you parade her around,” you said harshly, “What happened to never moving on?”

Rafe winced at your words, clearly feeling the sting of them. “It’s not like that,” he repeated, his voice sounding weaker this time, as if he didn't even believe what he was saying.

You crossed your arms, trying to keep the vulnerability out of your voice, but the hurt was bubbling up, impossible to contain. “You said you’d never move on, never fall in love again because of me. But now you’re here, acting like those words never even mattered.”

It shouldn’t have shocked you that he could so easily lie, it was just who he was, but it hurt. You were always the one taking the brunt of his emotions, while he recovered seamlessly.

“Am I just supposed to wait around for you forever?” He shot back, his voice raising slightly, “I spent weeks trying to figure out how to be okay without you, pretending like nothing happened when all I wanted was you.”

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening at his words. There was a part of you that hated hearing him admit how much he struggled, how much it had affected him.

“I didn’t ask you to wait for me, Rafe,” you said, your voice quieter now, almost broken. “I just didn’t think you’d move on so quickly.”

He looked at you, his expression softening slightly. “It wasn’t quick. It felt like forever. And none of it… none of it means anything without you.”

You opened your mouth to respond but found yourself at a loss for words. His admission hung heavy between you, like an unspoken truth you both had been avoiding. He took a step closer, his hand still resting on your waist, and you could feel the heat of his body, the familiar pull you had tried so hard to ignore.

“I don’t want her,” Rafe whispered, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear him over the music. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Your heart raced, torn between longing and disbelief. “Rafe,” you breathed, feeling the weight of his words crash down on you. They should have felt like a lifeline, but instead, they twisted in your chest

“I don’t know if I can believe that anymore,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “You moved on so fast. You made it look easy.”

Rafe’s gaze faltered, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. “It wasn’t easy,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I tried to forget you, but I can’t. I just… I keep comparing everyone to you. No one comes close.”

You stepped back, needing to create space, even though every part of you screamed to close the distance. “But what does that matter now? You’re with her. You’re moving on,” you said, your words tinged with bitterness. “You’re here with someone else, Rafe.”

He looked down, his jaw clenched tightly as he struggled to find the right words. “She’s just a distraction. I don’t want her… I want you.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to breathe. “But you’re with her,” you said again, your voice shaking. “You’re making a choice by being with someone else.”

“I thought I had to move on,” he admitted, frustration and desperation mingling in his tone. “I thought that’s what you wanted. But I realized I was only fooling myself.”

Your heart raced, torn between longing and disbelief. “You thought you had to move on?” you repeated, your voice thick with emotion. “What does that even mean? You can’t just use someone else to forget me, Rafe. That’s not fair to either of us.”

He stepped closer, desperation in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought maybe if I found someone new, I could forget the past. But I can’t. I keep seeing your face, hearing your laugh—it doesn’t go away.”

You shook your head, trying to process his words while feeling the hurt swell inside you. “And what about her? What about the time you spent with her?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” he replied, his voice low. “I’ve just been pretending, trying to convince myself that I can let you go. But every time I see you, it all comes flooding back.”

His confession pierced through you like a knife, the truth of his feelings washing over you in waves. But even as you felt a flicker of hope, the bitterness of betrayal lingered. “And you think that’s enough? That you can just turn your feelings on and off like a switch?”

His expression shifted, a mix of frustration and regret shadowing his features. “I didn’t want it to be like this! I was trying to move on for both of us, but it didn’t work. I realize now that I just hurt you more.”

“Move on for both of us?” you spat, incredulity lacing your tone. “You think pretending to be happy with someone else was going to help me? You think that’s what I wanted?”

“I thought if I could just find someone else to fill the space you left—”

“Fill the space I left?” you interrupted, disbelief flooding your words. “You can’t just replace me like I’m some old shirt you’re done wearing! I was your girlfriend, your partner, and you just tossed that aside because it was easier than dealing with your feelings.”

His frustration peaked, and he clenched his fists at his sides. “You think I wanted to toss you aside?” he shot back, anger flickering in his eyes. “I didn’t know how to deal with the pain of losing you… I thought I was being strong by moving on!”

“Strong?” you repeated incredulously, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “That’s not being strong, Rafe, that’s being a coward. You couldn’t face your feelings, so you ran from them. You thought you could just fill the void with someone else, and now look where we are—arguing in the middle of a party while you cling to me like I’m your last lifeline.”

“Don’t act like you’re so innocent in this,” he countered, his voice rising with each word. “You didn’t want to fight for us either. You walked away first, remember? You made your choice, too!”

“Because I was tired of fighting a battle that was already lost!” you snapped back, frustration bubbling over. “I couldn’t keep doing this, holding onto someone who didn’t want to be held. And you—” you pointed a finger at him, your voice shaking with emotion, “you just made it worse by trying to move on without actually letting go!”

He took a deep breath, trying to rein in his anger. “You don’t understand! I was lost without you. I thought if I could find someone else, it would make me feel better. But it didn’t. All it did was remind me of how much I needed you. And now, here I am, stuck in this mess.”

You felt a rush of emotions—a mix of anger, pain, and something else that felt like desperation. “And what do you expect me to do about it? Just forget everything and take you back… You think that’s going to magically fix all the hurt you caused?”

“I don’t know!” he admitted, his voice a mixture of frustration and sadness. “I just know I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you in my life.”

“Then stop pretending!” you shouted, your voice cutting through the noise of the party. “But don’t expect me to just jump back in like nothing happened. I need time. You’ve hurt me too much for that.”

His eyes softened, but there was still an edge of frustration there. “And how long is that going to take? Weeks? Months? What if you never come back to me?”

“Maybe I won’t!” you fired back, the truth of your words cutting deeper than you intended. “Maybe I’ll realise that I deserve better than someone who thinks they can just toy with my feelings because they’re scared.”

Rafe’s face hardened, the hurt flashing across his features quickly replaced by pride. “So that’s it then? You’re just going to give up on us?”

Your chest heaved as you tried to come up with some comeback, something that would make you seem as strong as you wished you were. But you had nothing.

“I think it’s best if I leave,” you say after a moment of silence, fully pulling away from him and brushing a hand through your hair.

“Wait, don’t—” he started, stepping forward, but you held up a hand to stop him.

“Just let me go, Rafe,” you insisted, your voice shaking slightly. “I can’t keep doing this. This back-and-forth… it’s tearing me apart.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but the words faltered. Instead, he stood there, frustration and desperation etching deep lines on his face. “You can’t just walk away from everything we’ve been through. I thought we were better than this!”

You felt anger rise within you, fueled by the hurt that had been building since the moment you realized he’d moved on without you. “Better than what? This fucking mess where you pretend to be fine while I’m left picking up the pieces? You think that’s what love looks like?”

Rafe’s eyes flashed with something between pain and anger. “You know what? Go. Leave like you always do; it’s what you do best.”

His words cut deep, the sneer on his face making you remember all the reasons you broke up in the first place. “You think I wanted to leave? You think this is easy for me?” you shot back, voice trembling. “I didn’t choose to walk away; I was forced to because you made me feel like I didn’t matter.”

“Maybe you don’t,” he replied, bitterness dripping from his words.

“Wow,” you whisper, feeling sober than before. You don’t know if his words are from the heat of the moment, but he makes them sound so real that the idea vanishes as quickly as it came.

The expression on his face shifts, a flash of regret crossing his features as he processes his words. He opens his mouth as if to take them back, but the damage is done. “I didn’t mean that,” he says, though the conviction in his voice is weak.

“Didn’t you?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. “Because it sure sounds like you did.”

His gaze drops to the floor, and you can see the internal battle raging within him. “I’m just—” he starts, then stops, as if he can’t find the right way to continue.

“Just what, Rafe?” you press, your heart racing as the weight of the moment settles over you. “Just trying to push me away? Because if that’s your goal, congratulations. You’ve succeeded.”

Rafe’s face hardens, and you can see the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “That’s not fair,” he snaps, his voice sharp. “I’ve been trying to figure this out just like you. I didn’t want any of this to happen!”

“And yet here we are,” you retort, anger flaring within you.

You look at him, feeling the familiarity of fighting with him. It hurts to admit that it’s all you really know what to do, it is almost natural for you both.

He’s not perfect, and neither are you. But together? It’s like all those imperfections amplify and nothing else matters. You can both see the other in ways no one else can, and perhaps that’s what is so scary.

“I’m leaving,” you say, trying to calm down and gather any semblance of stability to leave this damn party. To leave Rafe, once and for all.

He doesn’t move, his eyes still locked on you, but the hurt in his expression softens the anger that once burned so brightly. “You think walking away is the answer? Just running from everything?”

“It’s the only thing I can do right now,” you reply, your voice trembling with emotion. “Every time I’m around you, I remember what it felt like when it was good, but I can’t ignore the pain anymore. It’s suffocating me.”

Rafe takes a step closer, desperation creeping into his voice. “But we can fix this! Just… just give me a chance to show you that I can be better.”

You shake your head, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. “You say that now, but I need more than promises. Because right now, all I see are words that lead to more hurt.”

Silence hangs between you, thick with unresolved feelings and unspoken words. You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. You take a shaky breath, steadying yourself. “I can’t do this anymore, Rafe. I don’t want to keep fighting for something that feels so broken.”

His expression falters, and for a moment, you see the boy you fell in love with—vulnerable, scared, and desperate to reach out. “Please,” he whispers, the vulnerability in his voice making your heart ache. “Don’t give up on us.”

But you feel your resolve harden, the anger turning into a sorrow that feels all too familiar. “I think I already have,” you admit slowly, your voice breaking.

You turn to leave, the weight of his gaze pressing on your back. Each step feels heavy, as if you’re leaving behind pieces of yourself that were once so intertwined with him. But with every step away, you can feel the suffocating fog begin to lift, the finality of your decision becoming more clear.

When you finally step out into the cool night air, a weight lift off your shoulders. You leave the warmth of the party—and him—behind. The further you walk away the more your decision settles in, bittersweet and heavy. You know you’re not perfect, and neither is he, but for the first time in a long while, you’re choosing yourself over the chaos of your past.

And that feels like a victory, however small.

195 notes · View notes

bengiyo · 4 months ago

Note

Hello 👋

All of your favorite horniest sex scenes?

Hello! I've been busy, so this has taken forever to get to!

I don't always need the guys to bounce around on each other and gyrate enthusiastically for it to out as horny. Oftentimes, I find myself more drawn in by the building desire between the characters, and the explicit acknowledgement of release. I like when the sex feels like it's also revealing something to us about the characters. I've highlighted many of these before, but it's fun to revisit.

Ghost Host, Ghost House Episode 4 Couch Scene

youtube

I will never get over this scene, and especially the director's cut of it. These guys knew they liked each other almost instantly, and it was so rewarding to see them reach a place where they could express that. Bonus points for discussing the logistics of gay sex.

This show has been on Gaga and YouTube for a while, but it's also now available on Viki!

La Pluie Episode 6 Floor Scene and Episode 7 Bed Scene

I liked this scene so much that I wrote about it. Again, there's a lot of anticipation between these two, and you can tell how far it's built up because Patts has to dial it back down when Saengtai wants to stop. It's especially important to me because Saengtai does blow Patts in the next episode. If you're on iQIYI, there's an extended cut of that at the end of the video lists.

Mood Indigo: The Post-Funeral Scene

These two are so horrible for each other, but damn are their sex scenes compelling. Theirs are the kinds of scenes only possible between two people you know can never work long term. I was so glad that we got back to Haruhiko in Playback, and the first thing he did was blow Rio in a car. If you haven't seen the Novelist, and you're itching for hornier BL, it's right there.

The End of the World With You "You're Soaked"

From the same team as The Novelsit, we got to experience baby's first fuckboy in this incredible show. Again, I love when we get scenes with couples who aren't ready to work, because they're allowed to have raunchier sex. They get to amp the intensity of the physicality because they need to give a reason why someone was so caught up and missed the warning signs. I actually love the car scene later as a more romantic intimacy scene, but we're focusing on horny here.

Jack o' Frost Birthday Sex

A common theme here with the Japanese offerings is that people are allowed to have more interesting sex scenes right before they split. This is true even in Jack o' Frost. We get a really great oner from the leads that precedes their breakup and Ritsu's accident. I think this might be my favorite of this list because the actors have to build the entire scene together since there aren't any cuts.

Gameboys 2 Bed Scene

Cairo and Gav are one of my favorite pandemic couples we got on screen, and I was quite relieved for them when they finally got to have this moment. We also confirmed they switch, and I love that.

Wedding Plan: Namnuea Showing Off His Stamina

No list for me would be complete without including them. I really loved seeing two gay men go at it after clearing out all of their misunderstandings. They had already had sad goodbye sex. It was thrilling to see them having enthusiastic, athletic sex. This also leads directly to one of my favorite emotional payoffs for a closeted character of all time.

Kiseki: Dear to Me Reunion

The second couple stole this show, but damn if I didn't love the way these two played out sex across multiple years between their characters. These two really suffered, and I really love the way Taro Lin and Hsu Kai captured the changes between these two as Bai Zong Yi grew and matured. This really was a solid sex scene.

Love Class 2: Sungmin and Joo Hyuk

I just really wanna thank them for reassuring me that if Korea wanted to, they could deliver.

Sleep With Me Jeans Scene

I am not a lesbian, but I share their beliefs. This scene was so good. I loved that these two, who have different kinds of disabilities, were able to have a very fun sex scene. I really like when it's clear both characters want to be there.

Only Friends: Boston and Top in the Car

Despite my eventual disdain for this show, I was impressed with Neo and Force for giving this incredibly selfish sex scene between their characters. This entire scene is about injured egos, and it's a standout scene from this show. We won't discuss the rest of the show here.

Thanks for the ask!

227 notes · View notes

golbrocklovely · 3 months ago

Text

soulmates? // sam golbach

A/N: here's my first fic of 13 nights!! i've had this idea for so long, and i'm happy to finally make it into a fic. i really love a good enemies to lovers, and if you do, hopefully you'll like this one. let me know what you think and please enjoy !

prompt: fans knew you and sam bickered a lot, but what they didn't know is how much you truly hated one another. you decide to prank sam with a fake tarot reading, but end up finding out secrets about him and yourself. || sam golbach x fem!reader

trigger warning: angst, name calling, enemies-to-lovers, tarot/physic, cursing, semi fluffy ending?

word count: 3429

~~~~~~~~~~

I waved at the camera, beginning my intro, "Hey yall, welcome back to my channel. Today, I'm gonna be pulling a little prank on Sam with the help of someone very special."

"Hi guys!" Colby grinned.

"Thank you so much for being on my channel today, Colby." I glanced over at him, copying his smile.

He nodded, "Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"So today, I decided I'm gonna prank Sam, in a very unusual way." I stared mischievously into the camera, "I hired a psychic and she's gonna read our futures. That's what Sam thinks this video is gonna be about. But the catch is that she's gonna make it seem like me and Sam are destined to be together."

Colby chuckled, "Oh my God, that sounds so funny."

"I hope she goes all out. I'm talking 'you two are soulmates, you need to get together now', things like that. Just to really nail home that we are supposed to be together." And as you guys know, especially if you've watched me before, me and Sam don't exactly always get along.

“You guys do fight like an old married couple though.” He snickered.

“Of course you would know that feeling, Colby. You guys are basically already married.” I sassed.

"He really is my husband. But I’ll gladly share him with you.” He teased.

I playfully swatted at him, "Anyway, I wonder what Sam's reaction is gonna be to all of this."

"Fingers crossed he runs out of the psychic's place screaming bloody murder." Colby joked.

"Jesus, that would be dramatic." I mumbled more to myself than the camera, "I'm not that terrible."

"I don't think that way, but you know Sam does." He mentioned.

I lowered the camera, glaring at him for a second. "Colby, I can't keep that in the video."

“Well, cut those parts out." He suggested.

"Fine." I cleared my throat, pulling the camera back up, "Wow, that would be kinda crazy to see. Alright, now we wait for Sam to come, and I'll catch you guys up when he gets here."

"Do you honestly think this is a good idea?" Colby questioned, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Oh, it's probably a horrible idea. And Sam is gonna be deeply annoyed with me for a while, since we all swore off pranks. But I don't care. Last week he pissed me off at Sarah's party and this is his pay back." I huffed.

"I wonder how he's gonna actually react to this. He's never had his love reading done before." He stated, looking at the cars passing by.

I shrugged, "Neither have I. But knowing him he's gonna go down the route of 'none of this is real, she's lying' and then he'll find out it's a prank and laugh for the camera, but yell at me afterwards."

"You two love to fight and argue, that's for sure." He jested, smirking devilishly.

"What can I say? He knows how to get under my skin in just the right way. So I have to reciprocate it back." I replied, glancing at the street, waiting to see Sam's car pull up. He was running late.

"Why do you let him upset you so much, if you don't mind me asking?" Colby pushed lightly, his voice low.

"When I first collabed with you guys, I wanted to make a good first impression. And when we investigated, it seemed like Sam really liked me. Or at least tolerated me and respected me." I narrowed my eyes at the memory, sucking my teeth, "But to hear him badmouth me later directly to one of my friends while he was at a party drunk, it just became clear to me that he was fake. Or at least... around me he was."

He shook his head, "Sam's never been like that before. I don't know why he would do that to you."

"Well, all I know is that he thinks I'm arrogant and loud and that I act like I'm better than everyone. Which is fucking hysterical given the fact I hate myself." I deadpanned.

Colby's expression softened. "Don't say that."

I glanced at him quickly, "Sorry, I don't really hate myself that much, but you get what I mean. Well, jokes on him. Your fans love me, and have asked me back twice at this point."

He snorted. "You have no idea how much it pains him to hear the fans love you. It's honestly really fucking funny."

"If it continues to piss him off, then I'm glad." I jeered.

He pointed at the car behind us, peaking into the rearview mirror, "Speak of the devil..."

I unbuckled my seatbelt, slowly getting out of my car. I glared at his Tesla, stupid fucking car, and trudged over to him. Colby walked up to him, giving him a quick hug.

His car had a light sheen on it, clearly wet from a wash. "Was it really necessary to get your car detailed before my video?"

"Of course it was. Anything to delay this, the better." Sam replied, smiling.

"God, I regret asking you to be in the video. I should have just got Colby." I grunted.

Sam pulled open his car door, "I could leave right now. Trust me, I wouldn't mind."

"No. I want you here, just so I can continue to torture you." He rolled his eyes at me, shutting his door and alarming his car. I continued, "Hey, maybe the psychic can tell us how far up the stick is in your ass."

He feigned a grin, walking to me. "Maybe she can tell us why you constantly have a shit dating life."

"Well, you would know that very well, wouldn't you? Mister Unable-to-Commit." I sneered, stepping towards him.

Colby stood between us, "Children, please. Can we stop fighting and just film the intro with all three of us? We are gonna miss our appointment with the psychic."

"Fine. You ready?" I watched both boys nod, Sam rolling his eyes at me. I glared, turning my camera on, pausing, and then starting the fake intro. "Hey guys, today I'm here with Sam and Colby!"

The boys cheered, jumping around and acting like fools for a moment. Sam stepped towards me, yelling almost in my face. I did my best to not react, to only keep smiling.

"Wow, what an intro." I faked a laugh, trying to ignore the ringing in my ears. "So today we are at a psychic tarot reader and we are gonna get our fortunes read. Have you guys ever had that done before?"

"Yes, and boy did it tell us some bad things." Colby answered, smirking.

It hit me suddenly, one of Colby's past readings. I gasped, "Oh my God, I forgot about that!"

Sam chimed in, "Fake fan."

"Well, let's hope for some better futures then. Let's go!" I pointed at the door of the building, then turned the camera off. I smacked Sam's arm, a wince falling from his lips. "Did you really need to fucking say that? Or scream in my ear for that matter."

"What? It was just a joke." He rubbed his arm, his eyes intense, "Don't get your panties in a twist."

I crossed my arms, “I’ll make sure to send the bill from my otolaryngologist to you.”

“Don’t make up words, now.” He mocked.

I quipped, "That’s a real word, dumbass. God you are such a jerk, you know that?"

"A jerk?" He covered his heart, pretending to be wounded. "How will I ever sleep at night?"

I went to step to him, but Colby got in the way. "Don't. He's just fucking with you. Don't let him piss you off." Sam turned and walked inside. Colby lowered his voice, "Besides, you'll be getting him back soon enough."

"I know. This psychic better bring her A game." I grumbled.

We stepped inside, the scent of palo santo hitting me immediately. I felt a cozy feeling flood through me; the walls a lush deep purple velvet, the furniture in earthy and jewel tone colors. There were little trinkets and witchy things all around, some of which you could buy. I walked over to the crystal display, picking up a piece of amethyst.

"Do you honestly think crystals work?" Sam asked.

I hummed, "I'm not sure. But I like the pretty colors."

"Of course you do." He murmured.

My shoulders dropped as I spun to face him, "Have you ever considered not being mean to me?"

"I'm not being mean!" He whisper-yelled. "I'm just saying that you give off the vibe of someone that likes pretty things, including crystals."

"Oh... thanks, I guess." I looked him over, confused and annoyed. "You could have worded it differently, you know."

"Well, if you stopped assuming everything I say to you is me trying to be a dick, maybe we wouldn't be in this situation." He argued.

I place my hands on my hips, “Well if you would stop being a dick to me, I wouldn't think you're trying to always be mean."

He furrowed his brow, "Are you really still upset about-"

"Of course I am." I hissed.

He rolled his eyes, "You're sensitive."

"And you're a prick." I spat.

"Hello! Sorry for coming out a bit late. Was just finishing up my lunch. You guys must be," The psychic looked down at her paper, reading our names. "Colby, Y/N, and Samantha."

"Sam. It's Sam." He corrected.

She gazed down at the paper for a second, frowning. "Oh, my apologies. Must have been written out wrong."

"Must have..." He glared at me, and I smiled sweetly.

Colby politely stuck out his hand, "Thank you for having us. It's a pleasure to meet you..."

"Agatha Cerrony. But you can just call me Aggie," she giggled, shaking his hand. “Okay, so do you want to set up your camera, or how do you guys do it?"

"I was thinking one of us goes at a time, perhaps, and whoever isn't going will film. If that's okay with you?" I inquired, pulling out my camera.

"Of course. Whatever works for you. I will say though, I do recommend that anything too personal shouldn't be filmed, or posted, at the very least." She remarked.

"Yeah, I plan to condense all of our readings down into just some small little bites of info that fans will like to know and that we feel comfortable sharing." I explained, trying to sound serious enough so Sam wouldn't be too suspicious.

"Okay then, who wants to go first?" She asked, looking at all of us.

Colby raised his hand. She grinned excitedly, pointing him to one of the velvet stools in front of her desk. She went around, sat on the other side, and grabbed her tarot deck.

His reading went on for 20 minutes, going through multiple topics like his love life, his relationship with himself and his family, and what the future held for him and his career. I assumed that this part of the reading was true, given how easy going she was saying all of this. And since none of it sounded over the top or dramatic, it seemed pretty realistic.

Then it was Sam's turn. As Colby got up, he gave me a small wink. I choked back a giggle, keeping my face as stone cold as I could. The psychic shuffled the deck quickly, asking him what he wanted to talk about first.

"My career, please." Sam stated.

I rolled my eyes behind the camera, of course that's what he wants to talk about.

She placed three cards down, explaining that the next couple months were going to be full of success, much like Colby's reading. "However, there might be a hiccup in the future, so be cautious of new advisors or managers coming into play." Also, some of their biggest success was just a couple months down the line if they continued down this great path.

"So, keep a clear mind and focus," she reiterated. "What next?"

"How about your love life, Sam?" Colby suggested.

I beamed, "Yeah, that would be so cool to hear about."

Sam sighed, "Ehh, I don't really care-"

"Come on, Sam. Aren't you the least bit curious? You haven't had a gf in almost a year. That's almost unheard of for you." I jested.

He narrowed his eyes at me, "Thanks, Y/N."

Colby smirked. "Look I got mine read, and she's gonna get hers. Do yours."

Sam turned back to the psychic, shrugging nonchalantly. "Fine. Tell me about my future girlfriend. Or love life..."

Aggie nodded, shuffling the deck quickly. I grinned over at Colby, zooming in on the cards she pulled from the deck. "Well, these cards are telling me that while you have been single for a bit, you do seem to have feelings for someone, even if you don't like admitting to it."

Colby audibly gasped, "Wait what?"

"Oh... that's," Sam cleared his throat, "um, interesting."

"It feels like you hold yourself back a bit when it comes to this person." She placed a couple more cards down, pointing at the first one, "This card shows that while you do have feelings, you also are upset with this person. Or maybe, it's more of a back and forth with them. Sometimes you love them, sometimes you hate them. They frustrate you, but you also enjoy that frustration."

"Sounds like someone we know..." Colby whispered to me.

"Do you know who I could be talking about? Is there someone in your mind?" She queried.

Sam squirmed in his seat, shaking his head. "Um, n-no. I don't think so."

She squinted at him for a moment, "Okay..." Aggie pulled more cards from the top, nodding her head at them. "Oh, see. This explains some stuff to me."

His back stiffened, "What do they say?"

"So, you and this person go way back. And I mean, beyond this life. You guys knew each other eons ago. And there is some unresolved tension from a past life that has caused you guys to butt heads all the time." She answered, pointing at the cards.

He blinked. "The cards say all of that?"

She chuckled lightly, "Well, yes and no. I am also a psychic so I'm tapping into my spirit guides to help me explain some of the cards more."

Colby nudged Sam, "Dude, you've been crushing on someone? Why haven't you told me? Do I know her?"

Sam pffted, "I wouldn't say a crush-"

Aggie shuffled the cards again, placing three more down. "You both know her. She's someone you met recently, probably within the last couple months. A very strong energy comes from her, which is why sometimes you butt heads. She meets you with the same energy you give."

"Recently met... strong energy... that sounds like you, Y/N." Colby commented.

"What?! Don't say that." Sam exclaimed.

I faked a glare at Colby, "Yeah, don't start Colby."

Aggie collected all of the cards, "If you want, I can see if you guys have a connection."

Sam inhaled sharply, "I don't know."

"It would be good for the video." I whispered to him.

"You're not posting this unless it says we aren't a match." He scowled.

"Alright, relax Sam. I'm not gonna post it." I gave the camera to Colby, winking. I sat down next to Sam, watching him as he scooched his chair away from me.

Aggie shuffled, placing some cards down. "Oh, well that's interesting."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Well I did pull the Lovers card, but it's in reverse." She replied.

Sam questioned, his voice cold. "What's that mean?"

"There seems to be some form of an imbalance between you two. Something that should be talked about. And these cards right here," she pointed to the others, "show that there should be harmony between you two. Because if there was, you would be together. Whether as friends or more, depending on your choice. But there is something keeping this distance and frustration between you two."

"Wow, that's crazy." I pushed for more ‘answers’, loving the way Sam's face contorted in anger. "Am I the one he has a past life with?"

"Really, Y/N?" Sam whined.

"What? Relax, I highly doubt-" I started.

Aggie interrupted, placing another card down, "Yes. You two definitely knew each other in a past life. I personally believe you used to be husband and wife, just from what my spirit guides are telling me."

"I-I'm... What?" Sam stuttered.

"I think there is a lot of unresolved communication between you two, as appearing in this card." She held the card up, showing it towards the camera. "Now obviously, I don't know for certain what's going on inside your head, but if you want to fix things between you two, and I suggest you do, you have to talk to one another. Because from what I can see, you two would work well with one another. Possibly soulmates, if you believe in something like that. But only if you listen."

Sam stood up instantly. "Okay, I think I'm done with my reading."

"Aw, you scared we're soulmates?" I taunted.

"Don't you want to get your cards read? It's late." He retorted, his eyes not meeting mine.

"Well, since your love reading turned into my love reading, I guess I'll ask about my future or whatever." I shrugged happily.

Aggie shuffled the cards as I asked about my career and future friendships. I barely paid attention, figuring the video was already done anyway. I honestly deserve an Oscar for the way I was able to hold back my laughs. God, the look on Sam's face was priceless. He looked so pissed but also weirdly nervous.

Can't wait to make it the thumbnail.

"Is there anything else you would like to ask?" She questioned, collecting her cards.

"No, I think I'm all good here." I turned to Colby, smiling at the camera. "How about we'll regroup outside and talk about what went down then?"

Colby nodded, turning the camera off. "Sounds good to me."

Sam said nothing, walking over to the waiting room chairs with Colby. As they grew closer to each other, Sam spoke in hushed tones to him.

I turned back to Aggie, shaking her hand softly. "Hey, thank you so much for letting us film here. I really appreciate it. That whole bit about Sam and I being soulmates was really good."

She raised an eyebrow at me, "Bit? I'm not sure what you mean by that."

"Also, I know this is probably really weird to ask, but on the phone, you had a thick accent of some sort..." I explained, a bit confused, "It almost sounded French to me? Are you from there or-?"

"Oh! You must have been talking with Madeline," she laughed. "She's the owner of this place, I'm just one of her friends who does readings from time to time."

I hesitated, her words sinking in. "Um... wasn't she the one that was supposed to do the reading?"

"Yeah, did she forget to call you? She's sick, out with a cold," Aggie mentioned. "But I figured she wouldn't mind me doing your reading anyway. We've both been practicing tarot readers for 20 years."

"Uh.. Uh, did she tell you about what I wanted this reading to be about?" I stammered.

"Unfortunately she didn't write that out in her schedule, but you asked me during your session. Was there anything in particular you needed me to read for you? I can do another session real quick before the next group comes in." She suggested.

"No, no that's fine. Um, I-I..." I exhaled deeply, trying to calm myself. "So everything you just told me, about me and Sam and how in past lives we were together and that we would actually work out really well if we dated... that was all true?"

"That's what the cards said, yes. Along with my own personal psychic feelings," she admitted. "If you want I can give you some more resources and you can look the cards up on your own if you need some further explanation."

"Thank you, I appreciate that." I mumbled, barely listening to what she said.

As she gathered up some papers, jotting down some books for me to check out, I glanced over at Sam. He was still talking to Colby, but looking at me. His face was hard to read, but his eyes had this softness in them I hadn't ever seen before.

My heart skipped a beat as we locked eyes.

#sam golbach #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach fanfiction #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach fic #sam golbach oneshot #sam golbach one shot #golbrocklovely's 13 nights of halloween #sam golbach angst #sam golbach fluff

201 notes · View notes

uriekukistan · 8 months ago

Text

JJK 261 ANALYSIS: What happened, how, why Yuuta made the choice he did, and a discussion of tragedy & major themes of JJK

MAJOR spoilers below the cut so please read at your risk.

i wanted to dissect what happened a bit, and address a few points i saw floating around since the leaks dropped. of course, these are all my interpretations, so feel free to disagree, i just had a lot of thoughts floating around that i wanted to put out for discussion.

I. Gojo was never coming back

first of all, i don't know how you guys expected him to survive bisection. i said this earlier in the day as my justification for why i didn't think gojo was coming back, prior to leaks, and i don't think i can say it any better now.

and this is just my interpretation of reverse curse technique, but if anything, yuuta in this chapter supports my theory. in the scene where he's on shoko's table and arata nitta says that he's used rct to keep the wounds from getting worse, but it might be too late for yuuta to recover. in that case, gojo wasn't coming back from being sliced in half. it's just not possible.

additionally, and this is another thing that i've said for a long time. he says right in episode 6 (i forgot the chapter) that his dream is to reset the jujutsu world raise up a generation of strong students that work together. that is why he became a teacher. this very clearly comes from his relationship with suguru, and it's one of gojo's clearest motivations from the beginning.

the problem is, in order to achieve this, he has to die. so long as satoru gojo is alive, he will have to carry the burden of being the strongest alone. his students won't have to work together, because gojo will just take care of everything. this is already in the works, with how many people have come together to stand against sukuna. if gojo lived and defeated sukuna on his own, this wouldn't have happened, and bringing him back would, again, reduce the need for his students work together.

unfortunately, gojo has been doomed by the narrative from the start, and his primary goal as a character basically requires his death to be realized in its entirety.

II. They're not heroes, they're jujutsu sorcerers.

yeah, i'm stealing megumi's line because it's true. he literally said it twice for a reason, and then yuuta said a repackaged version of it in this chapter ("we're about to fight history's strongest jujutsu sorcerer. if we can win by throwing away our humanity, we shouldn't even be arguing about this").

trust, all the characters are well aware of the ethical issues with taking gojo's body after he's dead, both with what it means for gojo, and with what it means for yuuta. but this isn't a story about heroism, this isn't a story about the power of friendship. if it was, yuuji would have saved junpei all the way back at the beginning of the series. it was pretty clear from the start that this wasn't going to be the typical shounen manga like that.

in fact, expecting it to be is unrealistic. it's unrealistic in real life too, if i'm being so honest. everyone wants to think they'd take the moral high road in this type of situation, but the reality is, when you're fighting tooth and nail against an opponent that is fighting dirty, you have to fight dirty too if you want to win, and i think that's what yuuta is trying to point out in this chapter.

this happens in real life wars which im not gonna get into examples because i dont want to start that kind of discourse, but like...it's so great to be idealistic and hope that virtue will triumph simply because it is virtuous, but i think if you take a look around, you'll realize it's true that good people do not get what they deserve simply because they're good (that's so megumi of me to say...). or if you think of it like a board game, if a player is cheating, it is infinitely harder to win without cheating yourself.

maybe this is a bit pessimistic of me to say, but you will not win a dirty fight without getting dirty yourself, and i think it's pretty clear that sukuna fights dirty.

additionally, it's shitty to see gojo be weaponized, and i understand that, but it plays into the themes about strength in jjk, which i will get into.

III. This was not an "ass pull."

i don't really have much to say to this. did you think yuuta wouldn't take kenjaku's technique? plus, kenjaku being eaten by rika is probably the only surefire way to ensure that they're dead and won't just hop to another body. i've already said why gojo wouldn't come back, but it makes sense that if yuuta were to copy kenjaku's technique, who else would he body hop into, if not gojo? there's already narrative evidence to support this action, from the guidelines of yuuta's technique, kenjaku's technique, and gojo's technique, to the character of yuuta okkotsu, which i want to do an analysis in a separate post for him, so i won't get into that right now.

idk...to me, all the threads connect, plus i felt like yuuta's return was foreshadowed pretty heavily in 259 & 260, with the mention of yuuta's plan that yuuji couldn't know, and then on the last page of 260, the comparison of sukuna and yuuta, so for me, i always thought that it was not actually gojo, but yuuta at the end of 260.

IV. Themes of JJK: The burden of being "the strongest," or even just strong

even many jjk fans see gojo as "the strongest," and nothing more, doing exactly what the narrative sets up as one of the chief problems of jjk. a lot of gojo's actions are spurred on by the burden he feels from being the strongest modern sorcerer. his entire character is built around this problem of the responsibility and burden that falls on someone who's considered to be "the best" at anything.

in fact, this is also a driving point for geto too, and the conflicts geto and gojo come into with each other, as well as geto's inevitable fall from grace. it all comes from this issue that's at the core of jujutsu society. gojo recognizes that, and, as i mentioned, that is why he became a teacher. so that no young sorcerers will feel the burden of being the strongest alone.

the problem is this is easier said than done. after gojo dies, this burden gets passed down to yuuta, and he feels that immense pressure, which is why he decides to do what he does. he says "haven’t we been pushing the burden of being a monster onto gojo-sensei alone? if gojo-sensei is gone, then who else will be the monster? If no one intends to become one, then I will!" and i think this really powerful evidence of the pressure and burden of being the strongest, and i think the word monster is really important here. the burden pushes people to be something they're not, a shadow of their true self.

it distorts morality, like with geto. it isolates people, like with gojo. it forces people to go to unspeakable lengths to uphold their burden, like with yuuta. it leads people with immense power to doubt themselves, like with megumi. it leads people to feel like a cog in the machine, not a human, like with yuuji.

this is sooo so important and a key theme of jjk, and this chapter in particular, and the driving force behind yuuta's actions.

V. Themes in JJK: Loneliness and Isolation

this one has, in my opinion, a bigger role in the story overall than just in this chapter.

as i mentioned before, gojo is lonely. the only person who could understand him was geto, and he turned away from him, and then died. he seems like a silly guy or whatever, but it's just a mask.

but geto also felt alone and isolated, and that's why he turned away. between gojo and geto, neither of them were able to put share the burden of carrying their strength alone, and it's what kept them apart and made their relationship so tragic.

arguably, and though he would never admit it, sukuna is also lonely, though it's buried deep within him and something he will likely never acknowledge, despite it, and his lack of understanding of love (arguably a symptom of his loneliness), are major reasons for the way he acts.

yuuta, though supported by maki, inumaki, and panda in a way that the previously mentioned characters are not, is still isolated. he alone carries the burden of his strength. he was also alone his whole life after rika died, and then again when he was shipped off to africa, away from his friends (yeah he had miguel, maybe i'm missing something, but i dont see them having that type of relationship.

not only that, but yuuta recognizes gojo's loneliness, and reaches out to tell him not to try to stand by himself once again, and gojo admits that's something he can't do, the reason being his relationship with geto.

even further, yuuji and megumi, the parallel to satosugu, are both deeply lonely, except for when they have each other. i mentioned in this analysis that the reason megumi can't just get up and keep going is because he's alone and has been for over a month. i want to get into this more in my next point.

VI. Where I think (hope) this leads for JJK

a satisfying ending for jjk, in my opinion, would be the resolution to this loneliness and burden of strength issue that has been present throughout the narrative. something like yuuji being able to save megumi and them being able to correct what went wrong with satosugu in their own relationship.

personally would like to see satosugu reach the ending they should have had through the itafushi parallels - let them save each other! but i do know gege said only one of them (the trio + gojo) will die, or only one will live....that was years ago maybe he changed his mind :D

we all want to see yuuji take down sukuna himself, but i think it would be a great resolution to see everyone take down sukuna as a team. no one person is alone, no one person has the burden of the strongest. i know i said this wasn't a "power of friendship" manga, and i stand by that, but i think this would be the perfect ending. yuuta throws his humanity away to do what he did in 261 because he felt like it was the only choice and it was something he alone could do, but yuuji represents unwavering humanity (literally his name), and i think to preserve that, they all need to share that burden. let them realize they need each other.

this is what gojo died for, and this is what he lived for. this is why he became a teacher in the first place- to raise a generation that can be strong together, that can support one another.

VII. "It's poorly written torture porn!" "There's no point if there's no happy ending!" etc

i said this in a separate post but tragedies have existed in literature since the 6th century BCE, 2600 years ago. many of the most popular stories throughout history have been tragedies, for example, orpheus & eurydice, romeo & juliet, even things like the fault in our stars and the titanic movie. here's a quick explanation of what it means for a story to be a tragedy (yeah it's from wikipedia but they want me to pay to access the original source and im not doing that for a jjk analysis)

one of things i like most about this definition is the use of the word "catharsis," which is to say that the expression of strong emotions is a way of bringing about renewal and relief. in literature, it's used to say that with the arousal and following release of negative emotions relieves suppressed emotions for the viewer. im not gonna get too personal with it, but i know i've experienced this with jjk.

additionally all of the aforementioned tragedies, they have a message, no matter how sad they are. orpheus & eurydice inspires perseverance and faith in the gods. even something like titanic has messages about everlasting love that overcomes all boundaries. jjk has its message too, and it's long underway. we just have to wait for it to reach its conclusion.

it's easy to lose sight of the bigger picture when we only get one chapter a week, and the fact that the pain is so dragged out is a bit tiring, i'll admit. but that doesn't mean it's bad. having negative emotions stirred by a story doesn't mean bad writing. i mean, i would hope you feel sad. i would hope you feel angry. i would be concerned if you didn't. but given that jjk is a tragedy, that just indicates good writing. especially these last two chapters, i've felt moved in a way nothing else has done for me in a long time.

as always, these are just my thoughts!!! im happy to hear from anyone what they think :D

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #sukuna #yuuta okkotsu #jjk leaks #jjk spoilers #jjk 261

359 notes · View notes