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#and so he just find his friend there and realizes everything
pandoraslxna · 2 days
Note
Cocky!Aonung talking shit about splitting Human!Reader in two and pounding her small demon pussy, but all his control thrown out the window when he bottoms out due to how tight she is. Like it’s driving him fucking crazy and he’s holding back so much. AND READER KNOWS.
She pulls his hand off her hip and glides it over the bulge he’s making in her stomach🥴 she turns her head to look back at him “Your so big stretching me out so good.” She’s just teasing the fuck out of him (Size kink go brrr)
Sincerely,😩
Ruin me
adult Ao‘nung x female human reader
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Words: 5k
Summary: Ao‘nung thinks he’s no match to any human males and could easily ruin you for all of your kind. Oh, was he wrong about that.
Warnings: explicit smut, size difference, size kink, belly bulge, Ao‘nung is drunk, dirty talk, slight degradation, cowgirl position, oral, switch!Ao‘nung
adult Ao‘nung art was made by the amazing @Cinetrix 🩵
Translations:
tawtute = human, sky person
paskalin = honey
naer = alcoholic drink
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Music, the flickering light of the big fire, the stink of naer [alcoholic drink], some metkayina dancing around the fire place while others told stories that emitted great laughed from all around them. Not exactly something you wouldn’t find enjoyable. Normally. The music was okay, but maybe if the booze wasn’t as disgusting you could find it in yourself to get up and dance with Kiri, but sadly eywa hadn’t granted you this luxury. So you just had to suffer through it, sober and bored, while everyone else seemed to have the time of their lives.
Being the only human in the village sucks. It makes you miss home more than anything, and you can’t help but drift off into happier memories. The omatikaya knew how to celebrate. They also knew how to make you feel welcome. Here, you didn’t even dare raise to your feet and join the cheerful dancing. Not sober, though. Afraid of weird looks from the metkayina that had never before seen a demon this close and still hadn’t grown very fond of you, you decided to stay put for the night.
After a while, Lo‘ak nudges your side and shoves a drink under your nose, but you decline with a put-on smile. Then he shrugs and chucks the liquor by himself. His careless way of drinking the entirely too strong metkayina booze earns him a frown and playful claps to the back of his head by his older brother, and it’s the only thing emitting a slight giggle from you in hours.
So here you were. Stuck between your drunk childhood friends and their new friends, watching people drink and grind (they could call it dancing as much as they wanted, it was obscene grinding and nothing would persuade you of anything different).
The olo’eyktans eldest, Ao‘nung or whatever the brats name was, was standing in front of the group, giving a speech about whatever. You can barely hear the words droning from his mouth, too apathetic to translate them in your head. You lost interest in whatever he had to say a long time ago, not that it was ever there to begin with.
Oh, you could definitely do without Ao’nung. He wasn’t exactly an enemy, but certainly not a friend. Not to you, not after everything he did. Ao’nung was the type of person whose name was known in the village. You realized that on the very first day here. The type of person who everyone loves, mostly because they’re intimated of him. The type of person that could snap his fingers and woman would fall to their knees to please him.
Technically, he had never been rude to you. But that didn’t matter. He was a horrible person by pure association.
Ao’nung carried himself like he owned the island. Well, perhaps he would, someday. But leading and owning are two entirely different things. Something it seems he hasn’t realized just yet. So yes, he’s an asshole. A cocky asshole that has no idea what it’s like to be thankful. What it’s like to be appreciative. He gets everything handed to him on a silver platter and is constantly showered with admiration and attention. And the worst thing of all is, that he believes he could own you, too.
"Oh I could", Ao’nung chuckles, and it’s the first thing he said that you actually registered. You catch the way Neteyam rolls his eyes shortly after giving you the look, and it’s just now that you snap out of your thoughts and realize what was being said must’ve been about you.
"What?" You frown.
"Ruin her", Ao’nung says completely over your head. He’s grinning, talking about you as if you weren’t even here with them and it’s only making things worse. "I could ruin her for all of her kind with ease. Just look at her, she’s so tiny. She probably can’t even take all of it."
"Bro", Lo’ak makes a face of disgust before breaking out in laughter, "don’t be fucking weird."
You sigh, heavily, and then roll your eyes so hard it stings a tiny bit. Not this again, you think.
"What? You don’t think I can, little demon?"
It’s not the first time this topic was bought up by the metkayina man and you know for a fact that it won’t be the last. And what only makes this worse is, you can’t even blame his words on the alcohol flowing through his system. Yes, he’s clearly a bit tipsy, but it seems this has been a topic he frequently occupied himself with. Like a challenge. And maybe that’s what it was for him. Truthfully, you were something new to him. Something exciting. Certainly a new way to proof himself to be the best, a challenge to see if he could actually ruin you. To have the foreign little demon submit to him.
"Fuck off", you tell him with a smile, the english rolling off your tongue so smoothly it makes Lo’ak and Neteyam stifle a laugh to not give away what you just said.
Ao’nung, completely oblivious to your words, grins even wider. His tail wags behind his back and his ears perk up and god, he looks so much like a stupid little puppy waiting for a treat. And as much as watching Ao’nung embarrass himself further because he once again tried and failed to sweet talk his way into your pants, it was late and you only had so much patience left in you today.
So you got up, excused yourself, turned around and walked away, back in the direction of the little camp that was set up for you on your stay with the metkayina.
Except you were stopped just a moment later, by a hand around your wrist, spinning you around and nearly making your mask go flying.
"Whoah, whoah, where do you think you’re going?" Ao’nung laughed, just a bit too loud in his drunkenness. "Party isn’t over yet, paskalin."
"Let me go", you sighed, trying to wriggle yourself free, but his grip was like iron.
"Oh c’mon, loosen up a little. It’s like you don’t know how to have fun! Do I really have to teach you?” Ao’nung shook his head, making soft yet still very audible tsk-tsk sounds. He then lifted the cup in his hand and held it in your face. "Drink."
“No thanks", you politely pushed his hand away. "I prefer the omatikayas naer. It’s sweeter."
This made him laugh again, as if you had just made the best joke he’d heard in ages. “Oh, pretty, you don’t drink for the taste!” He emphasised the word taste, making it sound as if he was trying to explain something to a six-year old. The way your rolled your eyes at him made his face break into a sharp grin, and at this point you genuinely wondered if he thought rolling your eyes at someone was the human equivalent to flirting.
"Okay, no drinks, I get it. Then what do you say about us ditching the others and have some private fun instead, hm?"
"You’re drunk, fish lips, and you know my answer. It’s the same as always."
"And? C‘mon, I’ve been dying to get a taste of you", he chuckles, cocking his head as he looks down at you. "Let me show you how good I could make you feel. I mean what I said earlier, and you know it." For the last part, he leaned down enough so his lips brushed the lobe of your ear as he spoke lowly, "Don’t be shy, let me ruin that pretty little tawtute pussy. I know you want it."
God, he was so insufferable. You knew that you would probably never hear the end of it if you didn’t finally do something against this...
Glancing back over your shoulder, you watched the others lost in their drunken chitter chatter, too distracted to pay you both any mind. Good. "You know what? Fine. Let’s go somewhere else", you said with a shrug and to your amusement, looked back at Ao’nung at the exact moment his brain had processed what you had just said. There was a split second in which his face dropped in utter confusion, before he proudly puffed his chest out and licked his lips in anticipation.
Saying he was like putty in your hands was a fairly humble brag at this point. In truth, he was all yours– fully and completely yours. He just didn’t know it yet.
Watching his wide curious eyes scan the makeshift labs full of sky people technology was a sight better than anything you could’ve ever dreamed about. You love that the big cocky guy seems so out of place here, as he clumsily ducks under the doorframe to your bedroom. Closing the door behind him, you then feel his gaze on you. Ao‘nung doesn’t make much of an act around hiding the lust in his eyes as he watches you discard your mask to the little table next to the door, practically eye-fucking you already.
"Sit down", you tell him, biting the inside of your cheek to hide the amused smile wanting to spread on your lips. You want to play along for a while longer, just for the fun of it. "Straight to the point, huh?" Ao‘nung smirks as he does as instructed, the bed creaking under his weight. "I knew you wanted this just as much as I did."
You shake your head with a giggle as you step closer between his spread thighs. "You’re just so tall", you bat your pretty long lashes at him, talking in your most seductive voice as your hands reach out to wander from his board chest to his shoulders, before your arms encircle his neck. "It’s easier for me to do this when you sit down", you say in a hushed whisper, before pressing your lips against the corner of his mouth, then one more properly on-center. Ao’nung parts his lips, greedy and desperate, but you just ignore him, kisses his bottom lip and bites it softly. Bites it again, harder this time, raking with your teeth until he can feel it swelling up a bit.
And then you kiss him nowhere near chastely. A sigh escapes you and you let it ebb into a soft moan when he slips his tongue into your mouth. His mouth is messy and clever, but you’re making these little noises that are starting to turn him on so damn much, you just know he’s going dizzy with how good it is.
Ao‘nung groans into it, his hands immediately running up your thighs and backside, boldly grabbing a handful of each one of your ass cheeks. He‘s greedy in the way he kisses, taking control of all movements and you let him. For now. Until his mouth’s almost numb from kissing.
Ao’nung hasn’t done this much kissing since he was fourteen and had his first girlfriend, and he definitely hasn’t ever been kissed like you kissed. It’s the perfect mix of submissive, yet so filthy and dirty, it makes him as hard as a rock. Your ass fits right into his palms and he kneads the supple flesh, attempts to spread your cheeks and nearly rips the seams of your jeans.
He‘s so impatient, it would’ve been cute if it didn’t worry you that he would skip the foreplay completely and just pound you into the mattress. This guy needed some relief first, you decided.
After a while of sucking on each other tongues, panting against each others lips and kissing so hungrily, there’s spit running down his chin, you gently push yourself away with a hand on his chest. His eyes are still half lidded and his lips are parted once you’ve put some space between you both and you can’t help but giggle at the sight of his desperate state. He’s so easy, you think to yourself.
Your hands then wander from his tattooed chest, further down his toned stomach, skimming over his muscles and past the cord that holds his loincloth together. The sound of him sucking in a sharp breath once your palm runs over the outline of his hard cock makes goosebumps appear all over your body. God, no wonder he was acting so cocky all the time. Ao’nung was huge. More than just proportional to the rest of his body.
The look in your face must’ve given your thoughts away, because the metkayina man then grins and chuckles, "I told you, paskalin. I will ruin you."
A smile pulls at your lips at that and then you sink to your knees between his spread thighs. It takes both of your hands and a little help to get him out of his loincloth, but the effort is rewarded with a mouth watering sight.
Ao’nungs cock is long and thick, the same pretty cyan as the rest of his body, hard and flushed and standing upright, slowly dripping pre-cum. You could even see it twitch to the rhythm of his rapid heartbeat, wordlessly begging to be touched. You lick your lips at that, a movement that doesn’t go unnoticed.
"You want to suck my cock, hm?" Ao‘nungs hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb running over your kiss-swollen bottom lip. "Think you can take it?"
"I can try", you say in hushed whisper, smiling up at him with those big doe eyes you know will drive him insane. His cock throbs heavily as you run your small hands up the inside of his thigh, then grabbing his length with both of them. He’s too thick to close your hands entirely around him, but that only adds further to the exciting flutter in your stomach.
It’s just a lick, from base to tip, at first. One quick run with your tongue. Ao‘nung makes a noise, clearly made in an effort to keep himself from moaning and you grin mischievously. You start shallow and easy. Somewhat slow and lazy. Just working him up with kisses on his smooth tip and kitten licks along his shaft. As a reward, he makes soft, low groans every now and then. It encourages you to pick up the pace and go deeper.
Your lips wrap around the head, tongue glued to the underside and then you slowly suck him in as far as he could go before making you gag -which wasn’t much, considering that his tip almost filled your mouth out completely. But you managed to make it work, your hands coming to help and stroke every inch you couldn’t reach.
Ao‘nung let out a strangled moan at the tight heat your throat formed around him and then tangled his fist in your hair. "Fuck, that’s good…"
A glance up reveals a pair of lust darkened eyes staring down at you, his bottom lip sucked in between his sharp canine and his eyebrows drawn together in pleasure. You chuckle and hum around his cock, tasting the musky, earthy tang of his pre-cum dripping onto the back of your tongue as you suck and slurp around his cock.
Ao’nungs noises are slowly growing louder and more frequent, but they aren’t out of control. Yet.
You let the tip of your tongue flick against his slit, and this time the metkayina didn’t even try to hold back a moan. "Great mother– shit, keep that up and you‘ll make me come!"
At this, you pull off and look up with a wicked grin that quickly turns into a little pout. "Not yet, big boy. I want you to hold it.” Your tongue darts out again to give the head of his cock a seductive lick. "Hold it so you can come inside me, yes?"
Ao‘nung swallows thickly, trying to compose himself and keep his calm, and then nods. "Get up here then, c‘mon", he huffs, sounding a little too breathless for his own liking as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up to your feet. Your clothes were off faster than you could even process with the speed of an extra set of hands that were just itching to feel every inch of your exposed skin.
"What a pretty little demon", Ao‘nung cooed as his eyes raked over your body, his hands groping at your ass and hips, one of them running up to knead your tits. "Always knew you’d be a sight." He then places a couple of open mouthed kisses on the warm, soft skin of your breast, his lips closing around a nipple to gently suck before he released it with a wet pop.
"We should make sure to get you ready for me", Ao’nung whispered before he continued to lap at your tits. "Get you all nice and wet, stretch you out for my cock", he said after a long drag of his tongue over your sensitive skin.
"Yeah", you breath softly, letting your head fall back as you enjoyed the feeling of his tongue tease one nipple, and then the other. "We should."
"How does the tiny human want me then, hm?"
A mischievous smile spread on your lips as you straddled the big na‘vi, making sure to shuffle in position by letting your cunt drag over his cock which emitted a sharp hiss from the man under you. Both of your arms were now back around his neck, your chest pressed tight against his as you arched your back for him.
"Want you to finger me before I ride you", you whispered lowly into his pointy ear, before licking along the soft shell. You giggle at the way it twitches in excitement of hearing your desires, before Ao‘nung wraps a strong arm around your middle and reaches between your thighs from behind with the other.
He makes a low sound, between a groan and a growl, as his finger glides through your slippery folds. He locates your clit with ease and teases the little bundle of nerves by drawing featherlight circles on it. Sweet gasps of pleasure tumble from your parted lips and directly into his ear and he grins. More arousal seeps out of you the more he plays with your clit, and it doesn’t take him very long to grow impatient and let his fingers wander to the source of it. Your tiny hole clenches with the need to be filled and Ao‘nung let’s out an appreciative hum as he pushes his index finger past your entrance with minimal resistance. You’re so wet, so ready to be taken, he thinks. But you’re also tight, he realizes quickly.
Wriggling the second finger inside is more of a challenge, but you still take it. Your moans grow louder as he begins to push his fingers in to the last knuckle, thrusting them in and out slowly, curling them just right for your legs to tremble.
Once he deems you ready enough and his impatience seems to get the best of him, Ao’nung retreats his fingers and grabs your hips to position you right above his cock. He presses you down to where it lays hard and heavy on his stomach, then guides you by the hips to run your cunt up and down his length, lubing himself with your arousal.
"Think you’re ready for me, paskalin?", Ao’nung asks, but his voice sounds more strained that he would like admit. He’s so precious, holding himself back so much. And he’s was doing so well there. He’s not even inside you yet but you can feel his cock pulse, so close to the finish line already.
For a moment you debate if you should shake your head and make him eat you out first, just to see how long he can hold it in. You knew that would be mean. But that was exactly the point. He might be as hard as a rock, but you had the patience of a saint, and could easily drag this out. But the thought of him finishing early over how tight you are is just so much better.
"See for yourself", you purr into his ear, before leaning back with a hand on his chest, the other one grabbing his length and positioning it to nudge against your entrance.
"Go slow, tawtute. We wouldn’t want you to get hurt, do we?" Ao’nung chuckles confidently, but the sound is quickly cut off once you lower yourself onto his cock. "F-Fuck", he gasps, his hands on your hips suddenly tightening. He groans through gritted teeth, feeling your warmth embrace the tip of his cock. Letting him stretch your tight hole, you pause every couple of inches, just slowly making progress. But it was enough to get Ao’nung on the verge of loosing his composure.
Squeezing his eyes shut, all he could feel was the suffocating heat all around his cock, swallowing him whole, inch after inch. All he could do was lay there and try to control his rapid breathing, groaning loud and deep the further you sank down.
You’re so tight, so incredibly tight, it’s like nothing he has ever felt before. It was a vice like grip that squeezed his cock for all it’s worth and you hadn’t even started to move properly. Exhaling another shaky breath, he finally felt you snug against him, which made him pry his eyes open slowly.
"What’s wrong, hm?" You said, cocking your head at the man below you. "You’ve always got such a mouth on you, pretty boy, what happened?"
Ao’nung couldn’t even react, his breath cut off completely and his eyes rolled back into his head as he felt your hot walls pulsate around his length.
"Bit off a bit more than you could chew, huh?" You giggle softly. Looking down at yourself, you couldn’t just feel but see the very prominent bulge of where his cock was nestled deep inside you.
"Fuck, you’re so big", you said with a smile. Ao’nungs eyes were so heavy with lust as he stared at you, biting his bottom lip hard enough to taste copper in order not to loose himself right here and right now. But you weren’t making it very easy for him.
"Look how much you’re stretching me out", you whispered, before taking his hands from your hips and repositioning them to rest and the bulge of your stomach. "You’re so deep inside me, can you feel it?"
And then, torturously slow, you lifted your hips up. The combined feeling beneath his big palms and also his cock, of him sliding out of you, drove Ao’nung close to madness. He was almost completely out, only the tip resting inside you, when you stopped. You could see the self-restraint in his feverish gaze, his pupils grown so much his eyes were almost fully black now.
"Ready, big boy?"
He wouldn’t possibly know what to be ready for, so he just nods, drunk of lust.
You don’t sink down nearly as slow and carefully as just a few minutes ago when your body still had to adjust to his size. You slam yourself down and Ao’nung makes a sound that’s close to a punched out moan. He feels the head of his cock nestled against your cervix, pressed right against the opening to your womb and it makes him physically shudder.
His back arches and then your hands find leverage on his chest and you start bouncing on him.
"Oh eywa", the metkayina gasps loudly, "Are you trying to kill me?" The soft, velvety walls of your cunt squeeze around him at his words and his eyes almost cross at that. "You– shit, you feel so good. You’re so– so tight, fuck!"
Instead of a verbal response, you just grin and decide to let your body do all the talking for you. Starting with a pace that he least expected now, moving your hips hard and fast— lifting yourself up and down on Ao‘nung cock and spilling moans that he felt deep to his core. His cock almost slips out each time, before you slam your hips back down, turning him into a moaning, whimpering mess.
Ao’nungs toes curl at the feeling of your tight heat swallowing him over and over again, and you felt the way his cock throbbed heavily inside you. He was so close, so so close. His mouth was slightly agape as he watched your breasts bounce with every thrust, providing the perfect view of yourself, moving how you pleased without a care for anything else. There was so much salvia pooling in his mouth, Ao‘nung felt like a starved man forced to stare at his favorite dish right in front of him.
With the way you plunged his cock into your pussy over and over again, deeper with every thrust, he was certain that it must feel like he was already in your stomach. And you were moaning like that was the case. The sounds you knocked out of his throat were a mixture of groans, grunts and sweet whimpers, whenever his dick knocked on your cervix like an iron hammer –until it was all too much for the poor man.
"I- Stop, shit, slow down", he managed to force out, his hands squeezing your hips so hard you knew they would be bruised by tomorrow. That didn’t stop you from riding him, though. "Eywa woman, you’re gonna make me–"
"You’re eating your words yet, hm?" You cut him off, switching from bouncing to grinding yourself against him, circling your hips as if you were trying to spell his name.
"H-Huh, what?", he tries, but fails to understand what you were trying to say, once your walls seem to suffocate him, squeezing around his length particularly hard. "Oh sh-it!"
A smile pulls at your lips. You’re enjoying this far too much.
Leaning forward you press your lips against his, then move from his mouth to his jaw, places open mouthed kisses on his throat and up to the tip of his ear. Your blunt teeth graze his lobe and then you whisper, "You said you would ruin me for all of my kind. But who’s ruining who now?"
"Okay, I- I get it", he says in a breathless moan. "Shit, please, you–"
"Say it", you demand with a harsh thrust. "Who’s ruining this big, strong warrior for all of his kind?"
"Y-You!" Ao’nung groans, his hips raising off the bed as if to chase the tightness of your cunt as you lift yourself up and then down again. "You do, fuck, you’re ruining me!"
"Hmm, you’re so loud", you hum, "It’s like you want everyone to hear how good the little tawtute’s making you feel."
It's not enough, the slow drag of you pulling out, and then the harsh thrust of him filling you up again. It’s not enough but it's also too much, too good! Ao’nung can't take anymore.
"I– I’m gonna come!" He groans, throwing his head back in bliss. "I can’t– ca- hngh– you just feel so good, I’m gonna fucking come!"
"What, already?", you giggle, "That’s so sweet."
His excitement suddenly overwhelms your control, and he thrusts up into you, fast and hard as he begins to come. He drops his head onto the mattress, suddenly weak with the pleasure rushing through him, and his cock jerks inside your warmth. You feel the pulse of his blood pounding, pounding, and Ao’nung pushes in one last time as deeply as he can.
"C‘mon, do it then", you say between moans, your voice bouncing from the sheer force of his jackhammer-like thrusts. "Come for me, baby. I want you to come inside me, make me feel good."
Sweat was already beading at his forehead, curses being hissed through clenched teeth as he held you steady and plunged his cock into you over and over again.
Ao’nung couldn’t think straight anymore. You were still so tight, so good, every inch of his cock sliding into you made his brain turn into goo. It felt like waves of water rushing over him, drowning him in the feeling before something pulled him out and his lungs finally filled with air.
Ao’nung comes hard, shaking and squirming beneath you as his hot seed fills ever inch inside you there is to fill. The sheer intensity of it is enough to help you tumble over the edge with him, and you find his lips just in time to moan into each others mouths, tongues curling and lips sucking the other in. It’s so filthy, so wet and messy, it takes you a hot minute to realize the na‘vi underneath you has grown limp before you stopped grinding against him.
You go still for a minute, just smiling at the mess you’ve made out of the man that had so much to say about ruining you earlier that night. And then, almost casually, your hips roll up in a gentle thrust. Ao’nungs breath catches on a noise, and even he isn’t sure if it's pleasured or pained, nerve endings still flayed and raw-open. He’s so overstimulated from the tightness of your human cunt, he shudders when you finally lift yourself up and off of him.
Finally, Ao’nung pushes himself up to one elbow, words forming on his lips, but they're lost on a ragged gasp as you gently push him back down by his shoulders.
"What- what are you doing?" He chuckles in disbelief, his eyes eagerly following your every movement. His cum still oozes out of you in a thick flow, the sight alone so obscene it makes his cock already half hard again. His hands reach out to hold you, but you remove them, before shuffling to straddle his head.
"You can still talk, Ao‘nung. And when I say I’ll ruin you, I mean it. Now lay back down and let me see what else that dirty mouth of yours is good for."
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star-centric · 2 days
Text
A random thought that came to me but I just loveeee Lucifer being so soft/clingy and trying to deny it.
Lucifer being the type to tell his brothers to leave you alone and give you your space after you return to the human realm, but still finds himself absentmindedly clicking on your text thread, thumb hovering over the send button with words already typed out. He scoffs and finally gets some sense into him, he doesn’t need to bother you (but instead he scrolls through the past messages, and can’t bring himself to delete those or the message he was about to send).
The house is quiet without you around, and even though his brothers complain about your absence still, he tells them to just deal with it. This couldn’t be your home forever, he knew that- but he still finds himself stopping in front of your door as he makes his nightly rounds. The silence gets to Lucifer too, and his fingers linger on the door knob for far too long. Your room is still the same as you left it, and it takes Lucifer a few moments of sitting on your bed to realize that he even stepped foot into the room. It takes him even longer to leave, wanting to keep taking in your scent as if you were still here. (He didn’t want to break out of the illusion just yet).
Lucifer gets lost in his thoughts more ever since you left, the memories of you consuming his mind by the day. He knew the moment was inevitable- that you would had had to return back to your home eventually. But by Diavolo, he didn’t think it would affect him this immensely.
His pride won’t let him admit out loud, but he misses you so much. He craves your touch, your presence, your lips, everything- he finds it hard to unwind from the day without knowing your current state. Even his aged bottle of Demonus does nothing to relax his nerves since you’re not here.
When Lord Diavolo needs to head to the human realm for a small errand, Lucifer wastes no time in offering to go in his place. He argues that Diavolo has more important tasks that take precedent than this, and his dear friend laughs it off, no doubt picking up on why he really wants to go. He would tease him more, but why waste anymore of his time? Diavolo wishes him safe travels, and Lucifer proceeds to ignore his and Barbatos knowing smirks.
It doesn’t take long for Lucifer to reach his destination and take care of the errand. He’s trying to convince himself that he’s just taking a small break before returning back to his work in the Devildom, taking in the fresh air and sun at a small cafe. The black coffee he’s sipping on is nowhere near the bitterness he’s used to from the hell coffee that you make him, but it would make due.
He’s almost done when he hears his name called, and turns around to see you, frozen and mouth agape. He doesn’t complain when you come barreling towards him, shock wearing off as you grin ear to ear practically jumping onto him-
He doesn’t complain, instead taking you in and holding you tight, not even hiding his smile.
It’s no secret that Lucifer, along with everyone else, wants you back home. He knows that eventually he’ll get back to work, but is it so wrong to make sure that you’re safe with his own eyes?
He keeps trying to convince himself of that being the only reason why he’s sharing this moment with you, but after you pepper him with kisses, even he can’t believe his own lies.
Lucifer really does miss you.
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auras-moonstone · 2 days
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hiii i rlly love ur writing so if u cld write this i’d actually pass out ‼️
u can pick urself if it’ll be jack, Ethan, hockey player Ethan or even smth else! But what im thinking abt is like where he breaks up with reader because hes convinced he lost his feelings towards her but later on realized he didnt?? Hope u have a good day 🙁
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ all you had to do was stay
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ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.4K
ᡣ𐭩 pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader
ᡣ𐭩 summary: convinced his feelings are gone, ethan breaks up with y/n. when he wins the championship, he realizes he made a mistake.
ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: heartbreak. angst. make-up. fluff.
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ethan truly thought his feelings for y/n had washed away. but it’s wasn’t until now, looking around the arena for her, having just won the hockey championship, that he realized that maybe he had rushed into conclusions and fucked everything up.
the team went to a bar to celebrate, and while his teammates drank and danced, ethan moped by the bar with a drink in his hand, replaying in his head, like a sad movie scene, the moment he ended things with y/n.
why had he been so stupid? he had set in his mind the idea that hockey should be above everything and anyone else, that it was the only thing that mattered. and not only he had managed to slowly tear the most important bond in his life, but he had also fooled himself into thinking the feelings weren’t there anymore.
“hey, man. i’m going home, tara’s waiting for me. talk to you later?” chad asked.
ethan forced a smile and nodded. “yeah, go. i’m leaving in a few, too.”
chad walked out of the bar, and ethan’s heart reached another level of heaviness. his best friend was going home to celebrate with his girlfriend, he had managed to maintain his relationship while having the exact same responsibilities than ethan. the difference? chad had never failed to find balance and see how important life outside hockey was. ethan hadn’t, and now that hockey was over for a while, he realized he had nothing left.
with an emptiness no amount of drinks could ever fill, he walked back to the dorms, where some people were still on cloud nine from the win. he was congratulated, patted in the back, yet he could not enjoy his win completely. not when the guiltiness and regret lingered heavily over him. was it too late to try get back on track the relationship he had drove off the road?
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the celebration was certainly overwhelming for y/n because everything reminded her of ethan and the way he had locked her out when she was letting him in. hell, she was ready to say the l-word when he pushed her aside. the way he had broken her heart was one she remembered all too well, every word, every expression, every little movement.
ethan hovered over her, standing as she sat on the couch. frown on his face, pained expression, as if the act of letting out the words physically hurt him. “i don’t think i- i’m not sure if i… still have feelings for you. i don’t know, i just, it’s not the same as it was a months ago. it’s as if something is missing.”
“did it cross your mind that maybe the problem is that you put hockey first?”
“y/n that’s my future. of course i’m going to put hockey first.”
“sorry, let me rephrase that. did it cross your mind that maybe the problem is that hockey is all you care about? because it’s always about that. you have stopped having time for me since you became captain. do you even remember the last time you stayed over? that we went on a date? that we spend time together without you worrying over the championship or some other fucking match?”
“y/n…” he sighed.
“well, i can remember. three months, that was the last time you acted like a boyfriend. something was indeed missing in this relationship. you.”
“hockey is everything to me, y/n/n.”
“yes, and that’s the fucking problem, ethan. your whole life can’t revolve sorely on a sport. but you clearly can’t see that, so this is useless.”
that was the last time she spoke to him, but not the last she had seen him. it was impossible not to do that, he was blackmore’s hockey star, he was fucking everywhere. she, on the other hand, managed to hide in the shadows, so she made sure she stayed hidden and not bump into him. until now.
she was leaving tara’s dorm when her eyes caught his wide frame. her feet became one with the floor, not allowing her to move. like magnet, his attention quickly fell on her.
“y/n” her name fell out of his mouth absentmindedly.
at the sound of his rough voice, she snapped out of her daze. her lips parted, but she didn’t know what to say. and then his feet kept going until he was standing right before her. was it too much to ask to disappear?
“hi.” he said after a couple of seconds of silence.
“hi.” her soft voice warmed his heart, and he had to put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from bringing her into his arms. “um… congratulations. on the win.”
“thanks.” for the first time in the night, he truly felt like smiling.
“shouldn’t you be celebrating?” why was she still talking to him? her brain screamed ‘get out of here’ while her heart told her to stay.
“i wasn’t feeling it.” ethan shrugged.
y/n frowned. “you… weren’t feeling it? ethan, what are you talking about? you’ve worked so hard for this win.”
ethan let out a humourless laugh. “the funny thing is… it wasn’t until i lifted the cup that i realize that i wasn’t happy with the win.”
the girl blinked, trying to make sense of what he was saying. ethan landry, the boy who lived for hockey, was saying he wasn’t happy with winning a championship. what was wrong with the world? “i don’t understand.”
“what is succeeding if you don’t have anyone to celebrate it with? that trophy was a reminder of what i pushed away in order to get it. it made me feel miserable.”
“ethan…”
his sad gaze found hers. “what i’m trying to say is that i miss you, and that the win means nothing if you’re not with me. i looked around the stands, you weren’t there and it felt like a punch to the gut.”
she was certainly not ready to hear that. “let me remind you it was what you wanted, you ended it, ethan. you put hockey first, and it got us here.” maybe she was being a bit harsh, especially after he was pouring his heart out.
“i know. fuck. don’t i know it.” he was not going to cry. if y/n somehow managed to find it in her to forgive him, it was not going to be out of pity. but he wanted to sob so badly. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i was so fucking blind, and i hurt you.”
hurt was an understatement. ethan had absolutely broke her, and she had been trying to pick up the pieces of the mess he had made.
“i want to punch myself for everything i’ve done. for taking this long to realize i made a huge mistake. i don’t want for my life to revolve around hockey.”
y/n nodded. “that’s a good realization.”
“i don’t know what to say. there’s no justification for what i did, i was stupid and that’s the only truth. i… i want us back.” the anguish was written on his face. “i don’t know what to do to fix it.”
“all you had to do was stay… you had me in the palm of your hand. i would’ve done anything for you.”
“i know, you were too good for me. and i promise you i’ll work everyday to be the person you deserve, if you let me.” he put a strand of hair behind her ear. “i’m never making the same mistake again. i love you. you don’t have to decide now, take as long as you need. i’d wait forever.���
“you know it can’t be like before, right? you can’t keep this relationship in the lowest rank of your priorities.”
“i know, and i won’t. i love hockey, going professional is still my goal but now i know that my dream isn’t only hockey, is having you by my side while i play it.”
y/n slowly broke into a smile. “i would hate to see you succeed without me.” she grimaced as soon as the words clicked. “shit, that sounded so awful. i didn’t mean that i don’t want you to succeed unless you’re with me. that would be so bitchy, and i know you hurt me but i would neve-“
ethan couldn’t help himself, he cut her rambling with a soft kiss. “you’re the absolute cutest. i love it when you ramble.”
“it’s rude to interrupt someone, landry. you need to learn some manners.” she gave him a quick peck. “i guess i’m taking you back, or whatever.”
the hockey player smiled like a little kid and lifted her up on his arms. “i love you. did you know that?”
“i know it now. and i love you, too.” she wrapped her legs around his waist. “now, let’s go celebrate, captain.”
“fuck, yes. i have so many ideas.” the mischievous glint in his deep brown eyes made her stomach swirl.
“i’m down for anything if it’s with you.”
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all4yoi · 1 day
Text
only you
𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw. part 2 of just a game , hyung line , 2nd pov , ︎ fluff / comfort , lowercase intended , crying , cliche fluff omfg , karina mentioned on heeseung's & wonyoung on sunghoon's , not proofread ! highly recommended to read part one first !
after catching them holding hands with another female, you walk away from them and they run after you, assuring you it was all a misunderstanding.
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★ LEE HEESEUNG (0.5k words)
the day was coming to an end and heeseung has yet to find you.
after he had politely rejected karina, he ran after you but to no avail. all of his attempts on trying to reach you was a bootless errand. everytime he had seen a glimpse of you - whether in the cafeteria, library, the hallways, and god even in your shared class - you somehow always found a way to avoid him.
he could've simply gave up and moved on, he could've ran back to karina and date her instead. but he didn't want to give up and move on, he didn't want to run back to karina and date her, because what he wanted- needed, was you.
heeseung didn't want to go home yet, he needed to see you and explain everything. he'd be a fool to let you out his reach especially now that he knows you feel the same for him. he wasn't going to lose you because of a stupid mistake he made.
spotting a familiar figure sitting underneath a tree in the university's garden, he silently walked towards them, his fingers crossed hoping that he's finally found you.
and as if the universe was on his side, he saw you gorgeously flipping through a book with your pink earphones on. heeseung silently sat beside you, hoping you won't run away from him again. he saw how you stiffened and how your fingers stopped playing with the book's pages, and he wanted nothing but to hold your hand. it was your hand he wanted to hold- no one else's. you may not be with him yet, but ever since he realized he liked you, he was already yours before you even knew.
"y/n," he started softly, gently removing one earbud from your ear so you could hear him. you let him and look at him with hesitance, scared that he's here to tell you that he's changed his mind and he likes karina now instead.
heeseung smiled softly at you, "please let me talk and explain everything, okay?" you nodded, feeling your throat clogging up. "karina, you know she's one of my good friends, right? when you saw me holding her hand a while ago, she was the one who took my hand. i was so taken aback by her confession that i completely froze-..
because she's like a sister to me and you're the one i want. you're the one i need.. the one i like." he paused, brows furrowed in worry, hoping you'd understand. "i'm sorry for letting her hold my hand, and i'm sorry for hurting you. i really really like you y/n, please let me redeem myself to you." he finished, a small hesitant smile in his face as he studied yours.
feeling overwhelmed, you burst into tears. heeseung panicked, thinking he said something wrong and brought you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you.
"i thought you'd choose her over me." you cried in his chest, your own arms wrapping around his waist. heeseung didn't know why, but even when you were crying in his chest with your arms wrapped around his waist, he was feeling over the moon.
shaking his head, he pulled you closer if it was even possible and mumbled in your hair, "i'll choose you in a room full of other girls baby. only you."
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other members utc!
★  PARK JONGSEONG (0.5k words)
3 hours was enough space right? jay liked to think it was, he was too impatient and just wanted to run to you and explain everything, but he knew you probably didn't want to see him after what you've witnessed.
jay had tried to put himself in your shoe, imagining seeing you holding hands with another boy after confessing to you- by the thought of it alone already made him feel ten times more worse, he hated himself with how much pain he had caused you.
so instead of waiting until tomorrow, jay took his bag and walked out of the cafeteria, ignoring his friends that were calling for him. he already knew where to find you, after all, he's always had his eyes on you ever since the first semester started.
jay muttered a quiet 'good afternoon' to the librarian before making a beeline towards the back of the library and there you were in your element. laptop open, headphones on with multiple books on the table you've occupied.
he liked to think that his type were girls that were a bit dumb so that he could lead the relationship, but when it comes to you? smart, pretty, and soft spoken? if his heart could speak, he's certain that the only word it can mutter is your name, and he's not ashamed to admit that.
the moment you looked up and made eye contact with him almost made his knees give up if it weren't for him holding on to a shelf to stabilize himself, and when you softly smiled at him despite what you saw that morning, it made him yearn for you more. he wouldn't ask for no one else.
call him cliché but you were the only one for him.
"what are you doing there? come sit." you motioned on the empty seat across from you to which he occupied immediately. "have you eaten?"
"have you?" he questioned back, eyeing the papers and books splattered on the table. "i had coffee." was your reply.
jay knew that you were still upset, it was showing in your body language. you were tense, stiff, and your fingers were shaking behind your laptop. he wanted to punch himself for making you feel this way.
"i'm sorry y/n, i really am." the hum you let out made him continue, his eyes studying your pretty face silently. "it's really not what it looked like-"
"everyone says that jay." the way you bit your lip told him that you didn't mean to cut his sentence off and be so harsh.
"yes, i know, it's stupid but i'm telling the truth. she bumped into me and fell, i couldn't just leave her on the floor because everyone saw our collision so i offered her a hand. that was it, i was about to walk away but she introduced herself and insisted on shaking hands.. then you saw me.
i know it looked so wrong from your perspective without context, and i'm sorry for upsetting you. i really had no other intentions, i was telling you the truth when i told you that night that i like you too, so much." he reached out for your hand, sighing in relief when you didn't pull away.
you nodded your head in understanding, squeezing his hand to tell him you now understand. "i'm sorry for jumping into conclusions and not hearing you out the first time."
he shook his head, squeezing your hand back. "it's okay, i understand. we're good now?" chuckling at him, you nodded and smiled at him. "we are, thank you."
★ SIM JAEYUN (0.4k words)
the tears in your eyes as you walked away from him made his heart crack. should he run after you? will you find him annoying? do you want him to run after you or do you want nothing to do with him now?
after arguing with himself on his head, he ran after you and engulfed you in a hug before you could turn around the corner and disappear from his sight. "please let me explain." his own voice cracked, and the weird looks you both received from the other students did not faze him at all.
"jake, not here please. they're looking at us.." he hastily took your hand and led you into an empty classroom, wanting nothing more than to assure you that what you thought is wrong and all he wanted was only you.
after he had made sure the door was locked and no one else was hiding somewhere, he immediately took your hands in his rubbing the back of your palm with his thumb.
you didn't know what to feel, was this how he held that girl's hand too? did he hold hers with gentleness too? with that in thought, your tears were back.
"no no, please don't cry. it was all a misunderstanding i promise." he held your face and wiped away the tears, his eyes held worry but so much love as well.
"she mistook me as her boyfriend, it didn't even last for 10 seconds because the moment she held my hand we both pulled away from each other.. it was just wrong timing that you saw it and we made eye contact, please believe me." he was practically crying with you right now, his own tears cascading down the apple of his cheeks.
you frantically nodded your head - now you were the one panicking at the sight of his tears. "i do, thank you for explaining. please don't cry." his tears were wiped with your thumbs as you hugged him tight.
"i don't want you to ever think i'm lying to you, you're really all i need." he explained further through his sobs, his arms tightening around you more.
there you two were, hugging each other in an empty room, tears falling down from both of your eyes as you comforted each other. and at that moment, no one else mattered - it was just the both of you in the world.
★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.6k words)
to say that sunghoon felt like shit the whole day yesterday and this morning was an understatement. he had desperately contacted you in all your social media accounts - fucking christ he even contacted you through your school's email, but to no avail, he was always left ignored.
he didn't blame you though, if he was to experience and see what you did yesterday, he would act the same - maybe even worse. sunghoon wanted nothing more but to make it up to you, to explain that he was only doing wonyoung a favor to make her crush jealous. i guess you could blame him for agreeing, but did he really have a choice when she just randomly grabbed him and told him to smile at every passing student? maybe.
he had texted wonyoung that same afternoon, telling her- demanding her politely? to explain everything to you, she told him she did but was only left on read by you. the girl apologized profusely to you and sunghoon, she didn't have any idea about the two of you and if she did - she wouldn't have done what she did.
but what's done is done, and now sunghoon is still trying to desperately reach you. throughout the day, he would hear your name coming out of other people's mouth, but not once did he catch a single glimpse of you. sunghoon was running out of options, he didn't want to be that type of guy to show up infront of your door step in fear of crossing boundaries, but he was seriously considering doing it today.
sunghoon mentally chanted your name in his head as if that would help and summon you, and you know what? maybe it did work because now he was seeing you standing across from him, your back facing towards him as you looked at the bulletin board.
not wasting any time, he raced towards you and gently grabbed your forearm, successfully turning your attention from the bulletin board to the taller boy behind you. sunghoon wanted the ground to swallow him whole when he saw how your face dropped at the sight of him.
"let's talk, please?" he whispered that only you could hear, glancing around the corridor before looking back at you. the small hesitant nod was everything he needed before he lead you in an empty hall as everyone was in the cafeteria.
sunghoon took his chance and took you in, loving the way you've dressed yourself today and he wanted to just keep you in his arms all day, but he reminded himself that he needed to clear things up and make you his girlfriend obviously before he could even do that.
"wony already explained everything, i'm sorry for assuming the wrong thing.." sunghoon was taken aback by your sudden apology, and the tightness in his chest grew.
he took your face in his hand, gently bringing your chin up so he could look you in the eye. "i should be the one apologizing.. i'm sorry for making you feel that way, i didn't have any other intentions towards her and i only like you.. so much to the point that it hurts. i'll do anything to prove it to you."
he couldn't understand that someone so precious as you could grow such feelings for him, he couldn't process and believe that he's important to someone he finds important too. should he be punished by the gods above because he finds your teary eyes enchanting? he could see his reflection in your eyes and the love it carries, and somehow he finally understands. sunghoon feels warm as he brought you to his chest, tucking your head in the crook of his neck.
"i'll show you, i'll give you my everything and my forever. you're it for me."
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minkyungseokie · 2 days
Text
When Nothing Goes Right | LS2
synopsis; Y/n, Logan's long-distance gf, surprises him at the AusGP, but things aren't as happy as they should be
warnings; none
note; requested
note 2; Y/n has no mentioned race but doesn't know English. Jackson is an Oc and the reader’s older brother
Let me know whether you prefer first person or third person pov Please be nice. I haven't written in years and this is my first time writing for F1
Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist
I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.
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It had been a few years since Y/n and Logan had begun dating. The two met as children after Y/n had started karting herself. They immediately hit off and stuck to each other like glue. Wherever Y/n was, you'd find Logan not far behind with a big smile on his face.
Their families could already tell that the two would be something more in the future. Your older siblings even started a bet on how long it would take for the two to fully understand their feelings and confess. Neither of them won because it only took them until the sixth grade to realize that what they felt wasn't platonic. They didn't understand their feelings fully, but they knew that they were no one just friends.
Everything has been perfect until Logan's career in karting began popping off and he soon entered F4. To make matters worse, Y/n's parents had split and decided that Y/n would go with her mother back to their home country. Dalton and Jackson thought it'd ruin the relationship the two youngest siblings had built and they'd break up, which would break the two since they were madly in love even if they fully couldn't understand what love was, but that wasn't the case.
Despite the distance between them, Y/n and Logan had decided to stay together and find long distance a try even though their parents, siblings, friends, cousins, and neighbours warned them that long distance was hard. Even people online said that long distance wasn't the best idea because it tended to end with one or both partners cheating on each other, however; Y/n and Logan trusted each other with their lives, so they decided to give it a chance.
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Now, Logan was a driver in Formula One and Y/n was studying at Uni. During their time apart, they'd only seen each other at least twice. Even though they haven't seen each other properly in years, they have only grown fonder of each other.
As the saying goes, "Distance makes the heart grow fonder"
Y/n plopped down on her bed in nothing but a towel, answering a FaceTime call that came in on her computer, "Hey, you." Y/n greeted happily, "Hey, babe. I'm sorry to call you so late. I know you're probably busy and tired from work..." Logan sighed. "No! You're fine, love. I just got out of the shower. Anyway, what's up?" Y/n asked, removing the towel off her head and running a hand through her hair, "Nothing much. I just wanted to see you." Logan flirted, giving Y/n a smile.
Y/n stood up from the bed and began towelling herself off, "That's cute. If I'm not wrong, the Australian GP is coming up. How do you feel?" Y/n questioned. "I'm excited. To be honest, I want doing well last year. But it's a new year and you know how I worked hard during the break, so I'm ready. Speaking of the Australian GP, do you think that you can come watch?" Logan hesitantly asked, looking down before looking back at Y/n, who was now sitting on her bed in pyjamas.
"I...Logie, you know I'd love to..." Y/n hesitantly started, "I know. You have work and school, but you have never come to a GP before. I want you to come to support me at least once. But I understand. I don't want to force or coerce you to do anything you can't or don't want to do. You'll eventually come to one, right?" Logan asked. "Of course. I plan on coming as soon as I have the time to." Y/n promised.
She kept thinking about the fact that she had never attended one of Logan's races and began feeling like a shit girlfriend, so she ended up DMing Logan's childhood friend whom she had only heard about from Logan, Oscar Piastri and he somehow got her in contact with Alex Albon, Logan's teammate. Together the three made plans to sneak Y/n into the GP without Logan noticing.
It wasn't hard.
She had notified her job and her school of her trip and packed for Australia. She got on a plane as soon as she could, which ended up being the afternoon of FP2,dropped her things off at the hotel, leaving it behind the desk so she could share a room with Logan, and made her way to the track with a VIP pass in her hand.
The girl was practically vibrating as she walked through the paddock by herself. She was supposed to be looking for Oscar or Alex, but she was way too excited to see her boyfriend again. Luckily, Alex spotted her while she was roaming the paddock, "Hey! You're Y/n, right? Logan's girlfriend?" The man asked, approaching her, "Oh, yes. You must be Alex. The teammate." Y/n said, holding out a hand for Alex to shake.
The British Thai driver looked down at her hand before taking it and giving it a firm shake, "It's lovely to meet you. Logan's been talking about you. A lot." Alex said, jokingly rolling his eyes as if he was annoyed, but he truthfully enjoyed seeing his teammate talk about someone who made him happy and kept him sane while he was having a shit year. "Hey, mate. Is this her?" Another voice asked, but this time it was with a strong Australian accent.
Y/n turned to see a brunette in an orange and black shirt approaching them, "You must be the Oscar Piastri that I heard so much about." Y/n said, reaching out fit his hand. Oscar smiled and shook her hand, "I am. You must be Y/n. Logan talks about you a lot." Oscar commented. "So I've been told. It's lovely seeing something other than the pictures Logan sent to me when you guys were younger." Y/n chuckled.
"Come on. FP2 is starting soon and we want you to reunite as quickly as possible." Alex said, leading you towards the garage with Oscar following behind, "So how long have you two been together?" Oscar questioned. "We've been dating for eleven years, I believe. Since we were twelve." Y/n answered, "Eleven years! That's a long time." Alex awed
Once they were close by, Y/n’s heart began to race. She hid behind Alex and Oscar so she was hidden while Oscar pulled out his phone to film the interaction, “Logan, mate! Come here.” Alex called, “What? Do you need something?” Logan asked, voice getting closer as he walked up to them. “We noticed you were feeling a bit nervous, so we brought you something to cheer you up.” Oscar spoke, “What is it?” Logan asked, narrowing his eyes. “Why don’t you guess?” Alex suggested, “Just tell me.” Logan said, “Come on, have a bit of fun with it. Guess.” Alex insisted.
“Just give me whatever it is, mate.” Logan groaned, Y/n chuckled and tapped the boys on their arms, signaling for them to step aside. Logan watched as Alex and Oscar shared a look before stepping aside to reveal his girlfriend. Logan’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened, “Surprise!” Y/n cheered, giving the American jazz hands. Logan ran towards Y/n and scooped her up into his arms.
“You’re here! You told me—“ “That I wouldn’t be able to come. I lied.” Y/n said, burying her face into his shoulder. Logan put her on the ground and bent down, kissing Y/n softly, “I’ve missed you so much.” He muttered, “And I’ve missed you, my love.” Y/n responded, kissing all over Logan’s face. “Logan, Alex, it’s time for free practice.” A engineer called out, “Go out there and do your thing. I’ll be rooting for you.” Y/n said, cupping Logan’s face and connecting their lips.
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Y/n stood in the garage with headphones covering her ears. She couldn’t understand why she never came to a race weekend before, it was exhilarating. She could tell that her boyfriend wasn’t the best on the grid, but she knew he want the worse. It was just amazing to see him in his element, “Go, Logan!” Y/n muttered, clenching the chord between her fingers.
Y/n frowned as an odd feeling settled in her stomach. Y/n put a hand on her stomach and focused on the screen, attempting to ignore the feeling. Something was going to go wrong and she didn’t know what or when. Unfortunately, she didn’t have to wait too long to find out because Alex crashed his car, “Oh shit.” Y/n hissed, biting down in her knuckle.
“Hey, Alex. Are you alright?” Y/n asked, looking at the British Thai driver with concern. “I’m fine.” Alex answered walking away, obviously upset by the accident.
Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad for him, knowing that it absolutely sucks to crash even if she never watched or read up on the sport before.
Y/n made took off her headphones as Logan came back to the garage and jogged up to the American man, “That was so cool! I feel sorry for Alex, but that was so cool! I can’t wait to see you actually racing.” Y/n rambled, grabbing Logan’s hands on hers. While she rambled, Logan just smiled down at her with the softest gaze, “Do you want to go out after this? Or we can go to my hotel room? Have you gotten yourself one?” Logan asked, cupping your cheek.
“We should stay in. Catch up everything we missed and couldn’t talk about on the phone and no, I don’t have my own hotel room. Although, if I did, it probably won’t be getting used.” Y/n tittered. “Let me go get changed and we can go back to the hotel.” Logan said, kissing Y/n’s forehead before rising off to his driver’s room.
Y/n waited and waited, but it seemed like Logan was not coming out, which worried her. Did he get hurt or something? What was teasing so long? Y/n was leaning against the side of the garage, waiting for any sign of her boyfriend, but there was nothing. Until Alex came out, looking conflicted, “Hey, Alex. Where’s Logan?” Y/n questioned, pushing off the wall, “Um, he’s on his drivers room. He’s, uh, not happy right now, so maybe it’s better if you go see him.” Alex suggested.
He pointed out which room was his and continue on with his day, which didn’t really seem out of the ordinary to Y/n. She approached his door and knocked gently, “Logan? Is it alright if I come in?” Y/n called in a gentle voice. It was quiet for a moment before she heard a croaky, “Yeah.” Come from inside.
Y/n opened the door to see Logan sitting on the bench looking distressed, “Oh, what happened? Are you okay? Alex told me you were upset.” Y/n rushed over to her boyfriend, bombarding him with questions out of worry. Logan shook his head, “Alex wrecked his car,” Logan started, “Yeah, I saw that, but what does that have to do with you?” Y/n questioned, kneeling down in front of Logan and grabbing his hands.
“We don’t have a spare chassis, so they’re taking mine and giving it to Alex.” Logan sighed, “What?!” Y/n practically screeched, her confusion and weird turning into anger. “They said that since Alex is the better and more experienced driver, he most likely get the team points.” Logan explained further, “That’s stupid.” Y/n said bluntly, “Y/n…”
“No, don’t “Y/n…” me. I get that Alex it’s better and has more experience, but that’s that dumbest fucking decision I’ve ever heard. That’s like rewarding someone for fucking shit up! He crashed his chassis to the point where it had to be retired, so you have to give up yours? That’s bullshit, Logan!” Y/n argued. “I’m aware. I’ve given my all to this team. I worked myself to the bone during winter break when I could’ve been with you because I wanted it to be beneficial to this team. They are all aware of it.
James said he believed in me. James said he knew that I could go far if I just had a little more time in the car. But it doesn’t seem that way. Maybe I’m just not good enough.” Logan sniffed. Y/n wrapped her arms around Logan’s neck, placing his head on her chest and rubbing his back, “Shut up, Logan. Don’t you dare continue saying those things about yourself. You are good enough. If you weren’t, you would have been chosen for this team in the first place.”
“But—“
“No buts. The previous Williams owner saw something in you that no one else saw and picked you from Formulas Two to drive in Formula One. If you weren’t good enough, he most definitely wouldn’t have chosen you so early. James know he’s dead wrong for this. James know that this is going to be a blow to you, but he thinks getting points is more valuable than your growth. I’m sorry to say this, my love, but you honestly deserve so much better. It’s not your fault that Alex crashed the car. It’s not your fault that this team is so broke that it can’t afford another chassis.” Y/n angrily said, raising her voice before taking a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. You’re upset and I’m over here ranting.” Y/n quieted down, pressing a kiss too the crown of Logan’s head, “It’s okay, babe. It’s what has to be done for the team to gain some points. It’s whatever.” Logan shrugged, “ no, it’s not whatever, but I’m not gonna continue talking about this. Instead, let’s go to the hotel and order food. We can watch our favorite movies together and cuddle until you feel better.” Y/n said, lifting Logan’s head so his eyes met her and giving him a calming smile.
Logan smiled, albeit it was a sad one, but a smile nonetheless, “I’d like that.” He said, “Good. And since you’re not racing tomorrow, maybe we can do a bit more than cuddling. But that’s only if you’re comfortable and willing.” Y/n teased, pulling Logan up from his seated position, “I’d really like that. Thank you for being here for me and I’m sorry you came all this way only to not see me race.” Logan apologized, “Bah, I do anything for you. It doesn’t matter whether you are racing or not, I’m still here for you and I’d still come. Y/n waved off his apology
“I love you.”
“Love you too. Now let’s go.”
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woncoyo · 2 days
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☁️⠀࣭⠀𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝗒 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇
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pairing: all members + fem!reader genres: fluff, headcanon, they're silly silly in love. warnings: none. word count: 1948.
author's note: if this headcanon seems familiar to you, it's likely because you came across it on my old blog (chacottone). i'm reposting it with a few changes.
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( HEESEUNG ) Even though he's a terrible liar, he pretends not to know the basics of math just to hear you talk for hours. At times, you stumble over certain concepts, yet he subtly guides you towards the correct answers. Ultimately, he ends up aiding you more than you aid him, and upon realizing this, you say, "I feel so stupid! I'm teaching you everything wrong."
“Of course not, princess! You're smarter than you think," he protests, instinctively placing his hand atop yours. "We're mutually assisting each other, you see?"
You swallow hard, the warmth of his touch lingering as the endearing nickname 'princess' resonates in your mind. Taking command of the situation, Heeseung retreats slightly, straightening himself in the chair beside you. “So, what are we-i mean! where were we?"
"Analytical Geometry," you murmur, indicating a specific passage in the book and inadvertently brushing against Heeseung's fingertips as you withdraw your hand. He attempts to suppress a smile, but fails, turning his head to the side and nibbling on his lower lip.
( JONGSEONG ) No one can ever find out that Jay paid the class representative to pair him up with you on the chemistry project; that would be too embarrassing. If he wanted to spend time with you so badly, he could have just asked you out like a normal person. However, he thought it would be too difficult given your popularity and the numerous guys chasing after you. Jay had to be clever to get to know you better.
"So, about chemical kinetics, what kind of movies are you into?" he asks, acting as if what he just said made any sense. You raise an eyebrow at him, finding it amusing how Jay nervously bites his cheek.
"Romantic comedies, I suppose," you reply with a shrug.
"Cool! Did you know there's a romantic movie marathon next weekend?" he mentions, attempting to maintain a relaxed posture as he scribbles something in his small notepad.
“Actually, I wasn't aware of that," you say, tilting your head to the side. "Why the sudden interest? Planning on asking me out?" Your question catches Jay off guard, and you smile at the effect you have on him.
“Yes... I mean, if you're up for it... no-do you… want to go out with me?”
( JAEYUN ) Getting out of football practice was quite the ordeal for Jake, all because he didn't want to miss your study session at the library. With a physics test looming tomorrow, Jake didn't need to brush up on a subject he already had a firm grasp of. However, he understood your struggles in that area and how tough you could be on yourself when things didn't click. That's why he pretended to feel unwell to leave practice early and "coincidentally" ran into you at the library.
"Sure, you can sit here!" you exclaim, taken aback by his presence. "Thought you'd be at practice.”
"Left early to study for tomorrow's test,” Jake shrugs, pulling up a chair close to yours.
"As if you need it," you tease. "Your grades are always top-notch."
"Yeah, I know," he responds, placing a hand over his heart, oozing confidence, as you playfully nudge his shoulder. "But I meant that I wanted to study with you…"
Your cheeks flush almost instantly, and you try to mask your embarrassment by burying yourself in the book in front of you, murmuring a hesitant "okay, then.”
( SUNGHOON ) He's feeling like the cleverest guy in the world for persuading all his friends to help him orchestrate a plan to be alone with you. It took countless text messages pleading with Heeseung, Jake, Jay, Seonwoo, and Jungwon to create a study group — since that's the only way to catch your attention — and then have them all cancel at the last minute when Sunghoon and you are supposed to meet.
“They’re running late…” you remark, glancing at the clock for the umpteenth time since your arrival.
"They’re not coming anymore," Sunghoon announces matter-of-factly. "Seems like there was some unexpected issue.”
"An unexpected issue involving all five of them at once?!" you widen your eyes in disbelief. "That's so weird."
"Not really," he says, rearranging the books on the table. "These guys are pretty irresponsible when it comes to studying. They're probably off having fun somewhere.
With a furrowed brow and arms crossed, you mull over Sunghoon's statement. Then, an idea strikes you. "We should do the same thing, don't you think?"
Sunghoon promptly closes the book. "You're absolutely right."
"But we also need to do well on Friday's test…" Seeing you hesitate, Sunghoon quickly reassures you, as spending time with you outside of school is something he's been longing to do.
"You'll do great, don't worry," he confirms, "plus, we can always study tomorrow. The good thing is that everyone will come… I guess."
Still feeling nervous, you bite your lower lip, debating whether or not to skip a day of studying. However, Sunghoon's hopeful expression starts to bolster your confidence. "So, what do you want to do?" You ask.
"Jesus Christ! I literally have a list of things I wanna do with you—I mean! To do in this city!"
( SEONWOO ) Respectfully, Sunoo is fed up with hearing about the conservation of mass, but because you're the one explaining, he silently endures. Spending Saturday studying for a test he knows he'll fail wasn't part of his plan, but being with you was, even if it meant sacrificing a night off locked indoors.
"Are you paying attention?" you inquire, noticing your friend's absent-mindedness. "Am I just talking to myself here?"
Sunoo snaps back to attention at your words, attempting to mask his lack of focus when he sees your irritated expression. "I'm paying attention!" he insists.
"What did I just say, then?" you ask, arms folded.
"Um… you were talking about how mass is created and destroyed during a chemical reaction," Sunoo mimics your posture, speaking with false confidence.
You sigh, "I literally said the opposite."
"I got mixed up! I'm just tired…" he reaches out to touch your hand. "Let's do something else, hm?"
"Only after you get this right. Then we can do whatever you want," you state firmly, and your friend grins in agreement.
"You should've said that sooner!”
( JUNGWON ) Your failure in last week's oral exam was the perfect excuse for Jungwon to invite you to study with him. Obviously, the goal isn't just to learn about the properties and graphs of exponential and logarithmic functions; Jungwon truly wants to forge a connection with you.
"Want to make this more interesting?" Jungwon suggests, noticing your disinterest. "We study for fifteen minutes straight, then take a five minute break to get to know each other better.”
"You want to get to know me better?" you furrow your brow, surprised by what he just said. After all, Jungwon is the smart, popular guy everyone admires, so why would he want to get closer to someone like you? His invitation to study together already caught you off guard, but you assumed it was just a gesture of kindness.
"Of course I do!" he says confidently. "I've been wanting to be friends with you since you first arrived at school, but you've always kept to yourself.”
"I'm a bit... reserved," you admit, and Jungwon nods understandingly.
"But that doesn't stop me from wanting to get to know you."
Your cheeks flush, and despite your usual reluctance to open up about yourself, you agree to his proposal. "Sure, let's give it a try.”
( RIKI ) He's on the brink of failing, and you simply can't bear to see your best friend struggle. That's why you scheduled a study session at your house, which didn't sit well with Riki. The reason behind his dissatisfaction lies in the fact that you, indirectly, are to blame for his potential failure.
Every day, you sit facing Riki in class, and every day, he is battling to focus because your captivating perfume and mint lip gloss steal his attention. He gets lost in thoughts of you, and by the time he snaps out of it, class is over. So, under these circumstances, how can he possibly concentrate on whatever you're saying right now when you're so close?
"Do you understand what I said?" you ask, shifting your attention to your friend, who appeared to be listening attentively. "Hmm, seems like it. So, let's have a little quiz!”
Riki takes a deep breath, attempting to refocus on the main subject.
"What's the primary component of plant cells responsible for photosynthesis?" you ask, your tone serious.
"Mint lip gloss," he responds without thinking—or perhaps thinking too much, but about the wrong thing. "No! That's not what I meant to say."
You arch an eyebrow, realizing your friend must be weary from studying. "Need a break? We could play video games for half an hour and then get back to business! But be aware, I'll be tacking on extra study time for it," you warn, rising from your chair.
"I'm screwed.”
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© woncoyo
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yandere-kittee · 3 days
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Yandere! Malleus x Gn! Reader
♛┈⛧┈┈•༶
Note: I strictly believe that Malleus has everything that it takes to be a yandere, so here are my thoughts on this:3
❦warnings: Yandere behavior, kidnapping, drugging(like using magic to make you fall unconscious),
༶•┈┈⛧┈♛
Malleus finds it hard to grow closer to other people, except for the few people he is already close with, he swears he's not all that scary he plays out to be, He's just very tall and intimidating, that much people know, but once you grew closer to him without knowing who he was at first, Malleus was happy to talk with someone who wasn't Lillia, Sebek or Silver.
He loved the way you would listen to him, getting so invested and adding little comments of your own here and there, his admiration for you increased after his identity was revealed, you didn't care, in your eyes he was still the same Hornton to you.
Malleus later realized that he wasn't all that fond with sharing, not when he could see the way Ace was draping his arm over your shoulders and how close the two of you were, he found it hard to contain himself.
He tries not to be selfish and seek your attention out for himself, so he makes the most out of the moments he is with you, walking closer to you, the brief longing touches, and just staring at you whenever you're not looking.
Lillia is not blind, he's lived enough years to know the meaning behind the look that Malleus gives you, he's very aware of Malleus' growing feelings for you and encourages Malleus, even helping him to get closer to you.
He's Malleus' wingman in love, he gives Malleus advice to make you his, "It's best to claim them now before anyone else can. " He had advised.
Malleus would do just that, he wanted to begin courting you officially, gifting you gifts that he find would suit you, especially if it's shiny, he seems to smile even wider when you accept it from him and hold it with such gentle care, when he comes into your room in the future and sees the gifts he's given to you displayed on your shelves he'd feel giddy at the sight.
Just imagining of you thinking of him whenever you lay your eyes on the gifts. When the prospect of you having suitors aside from him, he can't seem to blame you for you are just so irresistible and perfect in his eyes, he eliminates any potential threats to your growing relation ship, passing them all of as accidents.
Though, whenever he's with you, and he can't seem to eliminate them himself, he orders Sebek and Silver to go after them themselves, not wanting to disturb whatever the two of you had going on.
Although Sebek may be quite hesitant and very unaccepting at the fact that Malleus wants you to be his, he will not let his Master be sad or have someone else take what belongs to his master rightfully, so he does everything he his told with the pride as Malleus' guard, protecting his relationship.
Silver doesn't seem to be very bothered, he doesn't inherently agree to what's happening because of his morals, but Malleus was his Master and Lillia seemed to be all in on it, even Sebek who seemed so reluctant was doing everything to bring the two of you together, so he would just shrug and do what he's told.
Now, what manifests/testers his yandere side more is after being told that there's a possibility of you finally finding a way back home through Crowley, why would you need to go back home when home was where ever he was?
Why we're trying to get away from your future spouse? Did he do something wrong? Was it all not enough?
He didn't understand, but he tried to, when he asked you if you really were going to leave, you had explained that you had to go back to your family and friends, you needed to be back home!
...
"Silly child of man, whatever do you mean? You are home. " he said with an innocent smile, you we're about to ask him a question but your vision seemed to turn black after that.
Before you could fall to the ground, Malleus had catches you, wrapping his arms around you, your unconscious body leaning against his steady and calm figure.
He had picked you up in his arms and brought you back to his dorm and trapped you into his room, once he graduates this year, he'll take you back to Briar valley and even introduce you to his grandmother and announce you as his future spouse.
"Don't worry child of man, you are safe with me, and you will have everything you could ever want be given to you. Including my heart. "
♛┈⛧┈┈•༶
I don't know man, did I cook a little too hard with this one?
Anyways! I just started posting again cause I was voted:P Might post again in the next blue moon!
ALSO I DID NOT NOTICE I FINALLY HIT 417 FOLLOWERS??? THAT'S INSANE I LOVE YOU GUYS SM💙💙💙
༶•┈┈⛧┈♛
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gordonmurraysugarbaby · 16 hours
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All-American Dream Team – LS2
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logan sargeant x fem!equestrian!reader
When you attend the Miami GP with your closest friends (only a week after your own Grand Prix win at Miami Beach), you realize that the guy you've been talking to for months is an F1 driver and not a mechanical engineer like he told you at the garden party where you met. Classic combination of horse girl meets car guy <3
content warnings: rich people, unsafe driving, mentions of alcohol, angst(?) idk more like slow burn because it just takes forever, horses
word count: too many (14.5k) please ignore any typos.
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As the warm Florida breeze blows strands of your hair across your face, you look up across the expanse of the garden trying to think of something, anything to write in your journal. It’s hard to find the time when you’re working, or traveling for work, or training, or traveling for training, or…the list goes on.
As much as you like Instagram, you’ve always wanted to be one of those girls who has a cute journal to document your life’s experiences, one of those girls who has everything. You do basically have everything, but you’re not that girl. Not when it comes to journaling that is.
The garden at your parent’s house is always the first place you come to when you get back home; something about it just feels right. The way the sunlight casts dappled shadows across the sandy-colored gravel pathways as it filters through the manicured shrubs and greenery around you reminds you of a certain someone. Well, something. No, you guess she is a someone, because she’s your first love.
Giving up on your 'it girl' journalistic endeavors, you decide to visit that love, since she got back from Belgium last night and you didn’t really get a proper reunion when you were unloading her from the truck at 1am—filling out paperwork, taking off her shipping boots, and settling her in for the night like you were on autopilot. Oh yeah, sorry, your first love (arguably the love of your life) is your horse.
Yeah, yeah, you’re a 'horse girl' whatever, but you’re a horse girl that made it. Every little girl who grows up jumping wants to be a show jumper, wants to compete at the Grand Prix level, win at the Grand Prix level, and your baby girl, your everything, Melusine V (“mella” for short when you were babying her and “smelly” when she was being an ass), was your ticket to success. She was still young and so were you. While you’d learned on older horses, something had just clicked when you rode her for the first time. She had been a five-year-old when you bought her, a total youngster—not necessarily the smartest investment for someone hoping to advance their career quickly—but the two of you had grown together as a pair and were real contenders for this year’s Longines Global Champions Tour event at Miami Beach, assuming you do well in Doha. You were training hard for upcoming the season, even though it was still technically your 'winter break' as your trainer liked to call it (if you’re being honest, you never actually get a real break from work).
Doha was important, but Miami Beach was special for you because it was home…well close enough to home.
When you get to the family stable, you’re greeted by whinnies and nickers from a few of the horses, and pointedly not greeted by some of the grumpier residents, but one whinny stands out from the rest.
“Hi angel!” You call out to her, still quite a few paces away.
Her neck is stretched as far out of the stall door as she can manage. With her ears keenly pricked forward, she nods her head at you in anticipation as you approach. When you reach her, you rub your left hand up and down the broad blaze that streaks across her face, small white hairs landing on your pullover as you do, and you keep your right hand tucked firmly behind your back. Your companion wastes no time in searching you for pockets…well, for what she knows you keep in your pockets.
You’re wearing a light sweater and tennis skirt today though, so she’s out of luck in the pockets department, but she knows you’d never leave her hanging, and you don’t. Bringing your right hand around from behind your back and opening your palm, you reveal the cookies she knows that you were hiding.
“You didn’t miss me at all did you?” You laugh as she dirties your hand with bits of her breakfast and only a touch of slobber while she eats out of your hand. It had only been a couple of days without her (it’s easier to put a human on a plane back home than it is a horse), but you had still missed her.
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If it wasn’t obvious from your day job (riding your pony really fast and jumping over colorful sticks all over the world) or the fact that your family had a 20+ acre horse property in one of the nicest parts of Florida, or…yeah, it’s pretty obvious. Your family is well-off, alright more than well-off, but no one likes to talk about that—or about your grandpa’s crippling yacht addiction, champagne problems truly.
Your family’s main home is in Wellington. There are a lot of horse capitals of the US (and the world), and this is one of them. This isn’t just any kind of horse country though; this is expensive imported sport horse country. Mella and the rest of your family’s horses are no exception.
You slip her halter on and lead her out to one of the pastures, chatting absentmindedly to her as you walk together, nearly in-step. You watch her from the fence after you’ve turned her out, enjoying the look of how the sun dances across her coat as she trots off to join her friends, when your mom calls out to you from the driveway.
“Y/N! Grandma says she wants to see you this afternoon! I told her you’d swing by. I’m heading out to run some errands—do you want to come with, and I can drop you off? Or do you want to drive over yourself?”
You glance at your hands; bits of grain are dried across your palm and that particular kind of horse-dirt is wedged in the creases of your fingers and underneath your fingernails.
“That’s alright, I’ll drive myself! I need to wash up first!” You call back.
Your mom nods and tells you to drive safe before waving out the window as she leaves. You wave back as you watch the SUV head towards the front gate before walking, then jogging your way back to the house. You wonder if part of your athleticism is due to having to run all over the place.
Your grandparents live in Fort Lauderdale, where you were born, and you try and visit them as much as you can when you’re home. Your grandmother is always very prompt in reminding your family when you’re due for a visit, and four days at home meant that if the call hadn’t come today, it would have come tomorrow. You wash your hands before putting on a light blue sundress, and throw on a bit of makeup, trying in vain to hide the dark lines under your eyes that had still yet to fade entirely from your jet lag. You slipped into a pair of white sneakers, throwing your things into a handbag as you rushed out the door to your car. You weren’t in a terrible hurry, but it was about an hour drive to your grandparent’s place, and you weren’t one to waste time.
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As you wound your way towards the main road, your phone buzzed.
You’d check it later.
It buzzed again as you approached the highway.
Then buzzed again, and again, and again.
You waited until you’d shifted into sixth gear on the highway—probably going too fast…definitely going too fast, but you had a sports car, so who could blame you—before you glanced at the screen. It was the group chat of your hometown friends, and they were going NUTS.
You tried to figure out what was going on, stealing brief glances when you could, as you wove between what your older brother called “regular traffic”. You rolled your eyes at the thought; he didn’t even need to be there to annoy you. You were unsuccessful at discerning what your two closest friends were talking about—something about Miami? a race? They weren’t horsey people, but you knew they knew better than to call your competitions “races” at this point. You silenced your phone, deciding to focus instead on the music you were playing and the sound of your car’s engine right behind you…until the music cut.
You looked at the screen and saw that Charlotte—your best friend since kindergarten, and likely the one causing the group chat havoc—was calling you.
“Lottie what is going on with you guys?” You asked with a laugh when you picked up the call, “I’m driving to see my grandparents right now and you guys are blowing up my phone, did someone die?? I came home on Sunday, so I KNOW it’s not because you miss me.” You joke. 
“Awwwe say hi to them for us!!” Charlotte responded, clearly shoving in the pleasantry as fast as she could to get to the main point, “and no, no one died, but you might when you hear this news!!!”.
She loved to play 'guess what' when she had news and you had known her for long enough that you could spot it from a mile away.
“OMG. NO WAY. Timothée Chalamet proposed to you?!?!” You ask in exaggerated sarcasm.
“You’re no fun,” your friend replied, you could almost hear the half-pout that you knew she had on her face, “No! Sammy got passes for the Formula 1 Grand Prix in Miami!!” Charlotte nearly screeched.
You flinch a little from the high pitch and turned the volume down a few notches, “Oh that’s awesome, I’m sure he’s excited! Did he invite you?? Surely, they can’t start the race without the sport’s biggest fan?”
Charlotte laughed in response, her family are diehard motorsports fans (hard not to be living in this part of Florida), and her brother Sammy was nearly just as bad as her in terms of obsession.
“That’s the THING,” Charlotte continued, “he got FOUR paddock passes!!! He said I can invite you and Stellz!! Will you come?? Please please pleaseee???”
She was talking so fast you were amazed that the audio hadn’t cut out.
“I will, I will I promise.” You laugh and by the time you realize your mistake, it’s too late.
Before you can get another word in, Charlotte is rambling on and on about all the drivers she’s excited to see, how she and Estelle are going to have to give you a lecture series on the ins and outs of Formula one, and how the three of you “just HAVE” to coordinate outfits. You know that last part will mean a barrage of links to boutiques you’ve never heard of (some of which must be scams), Pinterest photos, and fashion tiktoks as inspo.
You enjoy the few moments of silence you have pulling into the driveway of your grandparents’ waterfront home having finally convinced Lottie to hang up the phone. Walking around your car towards the house, you let your fingers trace the wing on the back of your Audi. You’d always loved this car and in the afternoon sun she was particularly stunning. It’s only after you look up that you realize another car was pulling into the driveway. The windows are tinted so you can’t see inside well, but you raise your hand in a friendly wave before heading inside.
“Grandma are you expecting any—” You’re interrupted by your grandmother pulling you into a tight hug the moment she sees you coming around the corner from the entryway.
“Oh, y/n, you look LOVELY. I cannot believe how long it’s been since I last saw you! What a cute dress too, oh this is just perfect.” She says as she pulls back from the embrace, holding your arms in her hands as she looks you up and down approvingly.
You want to finish your sentence, but you’re interrupted once more, this time by your grandmother’s instructions to help bring various glasses, flatware, and other accoutrements outside to the veranda.
It’s then, looking out across the water, that you realize you’re the first guest to arrive for a party. God damn it grandma. How do you fall for this every single time?
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The first guests to arrive are the ones you assume were driving the SUV that you waved to. You were introduced to them, Madelyn and Daniel, by your grandma who winks at you when they say that their sons will be joining shortly.
This was not new, your grandmother thought you were the hottest thing in town and as soon as she heard that a friend or acquaintance had a son around your age with a pulse, your mom, sometimes you, and sometimes even your brother, were informed immediately. At this point you had lost count and had given up trying to remember all their names.
More guests filter through, you exchange pleasantries with almost all of them, but as more people arrive, that task becomes difficult. Eventually you give up on the endeavor entirely and instead set off to find your grandfather, who has been not so mysteriously absent this whole time.
You know exactly where he is.
As you make your way along the edge of the property, you look down into the deep blue of the water and watch a small school of fish dart about. Approaching the boat, you can hear the rhythmic squeak of the smooth fiberglass hull against the fenders as the swell rocks the yacht ever so slightly. You make your way to the bridge once onboard the vessel, following the sounds of someone shuffling papers and muttering.
“Hi Grandpa.” You say sweetly as you see the old man hunched before you, screwdriver in hand, attempting to install God-knows-what without any help. He’s always been stubborn in that way, and your grandma had accepted this reality long ago.
“Y/n…” He says smiling up at you and beginning the process of untangling himself from the wiring that he’s been tinkering with.
“Another project?” You ask as you offer your hand to help him up.
“Yes! Very excited about this one as well. The chart display system has been giving me trouble, and I’m hoping this new module will improve the interface.” The old man replies cheerily, obviously enthralled in this week’s project.
For your grandfather, the whole ship of Theseus thing is not a thought experiment, but the stark reality of his "crippling addiction to yachts and yacht accessories" as you and your brother referred to it.
“You should come join the party.” You smile, not particularly interested in picking his brain about the navigational systems of the boat.
“Shoot,” he replies, the realization clear on his face, “you know, I made a point to myself this morning that I wouldn’t let myself get too distracted and I’ve done just that haven’t I?”
You laugh quietly and shake your head. “No grandpa, I’m sure no one will mind, but come out and say hi. I’m sure your friends will want to see what you’ve been working on.”
If you ever had any doubts about pulling your grandfather away from his project, you knew that the promise of showing off his handiwork to his friends would be a surefire way to entice him to socialize.
Your grandfather reintroduces you to some of his old friends and introduces you to some of his new ones. You spend the next few hours in this fashion, saying lots of hellos, accepting compliments and congratulations from the handful of people that are aware of your accomplishments from the last year.
You’re reintroduced to Madelyn and Daniel who assure you that their sons are somewhere and would love to meet you. You smile graciously as always and look in the general direction that Madelyn has gestured to, catching the eye of the boy you assume is one of hers. He’s tall with an athletic build, attractive, and if his eyes are anything like his mom’s…you rein in your thoughts.
You reassure Madelyn (and your grandparents) that you’ll be sure to say hello, before excusing yourself to grab another drink. You choose something non-alcoholic—you still have to drive home, and alcohol of any concentration mixed with a v10 is a bad idea—and turn to admire the way the sunlight glinting off the water.
Sipping your drink, you notice the same figure as before—his features outlined by the glow of the sun that was now low in the sky—but this time he’s alone.
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By this point, your social battery is in the low double digits, honestly maybe high single digits, but you had said that you would introduce yourself and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit intrigued. Your footsteps were soft on the grass as you made your way towards him, and he doesn’t notice you at first when you get close.
“Hi” you say, trying not to startle him, “I’ve been told that you would love to meet me” you continue, mimicking Madelyn’s cadence in which she had said the phrase to you (not once, but twice) previously.
The blonde laughed quietly to himself for a moment before telling you that you sound cocky.
“I’m Logan by the way, it’s nice to meet you.” He says finally, extending a hand in what you can’t tell is a sincere or sarcastic handshake.
“Likewise.” You say with a smile, taking his hand.
His hands are callused but still soft. The two of you exchange pleasantries about the weather and the party. He’s surprisingly soft-spoken for someone who looks like he should be a heart-breaker. He asks about your job; you have no doubt that his parents relayed the same spiel to him that your grandmother always gives to people about you.
“Yeah, I’m a show jumper, it’s a lot of work and a lot of traveling, but it was always my dream.” You say looking out over the water.
“Traveling?” He asks.
“Yeah. I spend a lot of my time training in Europe. I get to come home sometimes, but other than that its Belgium, Germany, or on the road somewhere for competitions.”
“Is it tough being an American in that sense? I can’t imagine a ton of the other people you work with over there are from here.” He’s looking at you with an expression that you can’t entirely put your finger on.
“Uh, yeah it can be tough sometimes,” you reply, “I don’t speak French or German very well which has caused a few problems, but other than that it’s mainly just missing home and dealing with mild teasing from colleagues, etc.”
He has that same expression when you look back at him, you don’t really know what to say, but your phone fills the silence with its perpetual buzzing.
“Work?” He asks, gesturing to your phone.
“No...” you say, frowning slightly as you unlock it and try to parse what Lottie and Stella are going on about now—you should have guessed, “no, sorry, my friends got paddock passes to the formula one grand prix here.”
You silence the notifications and look back to him, his eyes have widened slightly.
“They’re…very excited.” You laugh.
“Are you going as well?”
 “Yeah, I am. I know it’ll be fun, but I have my own grand prix in Miami the weekend before…so, hopefully I won’t be too tired.” You laugh again, trying to convince yourself that this is a good idea.
Sitting with your legs hanging off the seawall, the two of you chat for a while longer, enjoying the sunset and pointing out fish to one another when one gets close to the surface. He knows a surprising amount of information about fish—typical Florida boy you think to yourself. The conversation flows easily, and you like the sound of his laugh.
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The party is wrapping up, with the number of people having significantly diminished from before. You say your goodbyes, hugging and kissing your grandparents, and reassuring them that this isn’t the last time they’ll see you before you leave for Qatar. Logan offers to walk you to your car. You’ve enjoyed his company, he’s easy-going and the conversation was a nice change of pace, so you agree.
On your walk towards the driveway, you can feel the temperature drop with the sun now well-below the horizon. You and Logan walk shoulder to shoulder, some of his body heat radiating enough for you to feel in such close proximity. The silence between you as you walk is comfortable, like the two of you were old friends.
The silence doesn’t last long.
“You have an R8??” Logan asks, unable to hide his surprise when you come to a halt in front of the sports car.
You laugh, he’s not the first person to assume that a pretty girl like you can’t drive a real car.
“Yes, I bought it myself and everything,” you reply, slightly sarcastically, “it’s even a manual." You're now feigning a look of shock and horror, as you tease him.
He still looks a little shocked, although he’s smiling now.
“Wow, yeah I–I’m sorry, I just wouldn’t have–” he stumbles over his words.
“You’re not the first.” You smile, getting into the car and reaching for the ignition.
 He comes around to your window as you start the car and roll it down to say goodbye. He waits for the roar of the engine to die down a bit before he speaks.
“It was really nice to meet you,” he says with a smile, leaning down slightly to see you better, “by the way if your friends ever want to go to a NASCAR race, my brother Dalton can definitely make that happen”.
You both know this isn’t necessary, you’d told him about how obsessed Lottie’s family was with motorsports, and with Sammy managing to secure paddock passes for an F1 race, there was no question he could do the same for NASCAR. You indulge him regardless.
“Yeah that would be fantastic, I’m sure they’d love that,” you smile back at him as you say it, “I’ll give you my number.”
The city lights are a blur as you fly home on the highway. Your face is still warm from the afternoon sun, maybe more than that, but you try to ignore the giddy feeling you get when you think about the way Logan looked at you as you talked on the lawn of your grandparent’s house watching the sunset.
The song “Only Be Me” comes on. It’s an older song at this point, but you leave it on, accepting that you just can't help but think about Logan’s smile as you listen to the lyrics. Part of you almost resented your grandparents for succeeding in finding someone that you liked maybe liked.
Logan was the same way.
The whole drive home he couldn’t help himself but run through his conversations with you again in his head. When you’d asked what he did for work he’d lied. Did she know? She had to. Was she humoring him with it all? Maybe. But her friends and the Miami GP…if she knew, then why didn’t she say anything? The thoughts raced through his mind. She has to have a boyfriend he thought to himself, but if that was the case, why was she there alone, and why had her grandmother winked at him when he’d arrived at the party.
It was starting to hurt his head.
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The sound of the lock sliding back into place inside the front door was the only sound in the house when you returned home.
Your parents played golf together on Friday mornings, so you knew they must already be in bed. You grabbed a chocolate mint from the kitchen counter before you quietly made your way upstairs—the little candies were your favorite part of having housekeepers.
It was dark in your room when you pushed the door open, but when you reached your bed, you instinctively reached your hand out to pet the lump of black fur that you knew was curled up against your pillow. “Hi Ranger,” you whispered, addressing the little dog, and receiving a dry lick on your hand when he felt your touch.
Ranger always slept in your bed when you were home.
Your family’s two Shetland sheepdogs, Ranger and Kitty, took the job of protecting the family very seriously—despite each weighing less than 20 pounds. Typically, they both slept downstairs at the foot of your parents’ bed, but every time you returned home, without fail, Ranger would tuck himself into your bed and sleep with you.
Slipping out of your sundress and into a robe, you begin getting ready for bed. As you finish washing your face, the buzz of your phone vibrating against the cold marble countertop causes you to jump. Letting out a bated breath with your hand still placed instinctively over your heart, you dry your face and look at the message:
“Hey, nice to meet you earlier. I hope you got home safe.”
You smiled at your phone, the unsaved number making your heart skip a beat against your will.
You respond, telling him that you did get home safe and that you appreciated having someone else your age to talk to that evening. As you settle into the soft sheets, Ranger tucked snuggly in the crook of your legs, you can’t help smiling at the brief conversation. You’d only known him for a few hours, but it felt longer. You tried to shake the feelings, reminding yourself that you were too busy for guys, but it was no use.
You turn on the lamp on your nightstand and pull out the notebook that you use as your journal.
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The two of you exchange messages on and off for the remainder of your 'break', never mentioning the NASCAR idea that he had used to get your number—you both knew that was just a means to an end.
You learn that he’s quite athletic, unsurprising based on the way he looks, and he starts sending you photos from the gym as he does his workouts. Your workouts make him complain about his legs (such a baby) and his make your neck sore for days. Nevertheless, trying to one-up each other in your training had made the arduous process of preparing for Doha a bit more bearable. Although you still make fun of him for playing so much padel—always calling it pickleball to piss him off—and telling him to play tennis like a real man, his retorts about the sport being better for reaction time falling on deaf ears.
Soon the days before you had to leave for Qatar were numbered. Logan had mentioned off-handedly that he had been there previously for work and would be back there later in the year. You wondered what on earth a mechanical engineer who spent most of his time in the UK would be doing in Qatar frequently but didn’t dwell on it.
When you landed, you sent him a photo of the plane on the tarmac with the caption “beat you there”, to which he responded with the thumbs down emoji before saying that he was kidding and wished you good luck.
The next weeks are long and tiring. The days are hot, and it’s crucial that you acclimate before the event, but every night after training and then after qualifying rounds, you’re exhausted.
Thanks to your somehow tireless efforts, you make it into the top 35—qualifying for the Grand Prix.
The course isn’t too challenging, but it certainly isn’t easy. You run through it again in your head: start…left-hand bend to the oxer…skinny single before the combination…forward four to the triple…another tight combination before the roll-back…you sigh.
You’ve trained yourself out of most of the pre-competition nerves, but there’s always a bit of a pang in your heart when you get the go-ahead to enter the arena. Not to mention that you’re going last out of all the riders. Lovely you think to yourself, cringing at the thought of the worst-case scenario, especially if you make it to the jump-off. You push the thoughts out of your head and zero-in when the buzzer goes off.
41.034 seconds with no faults.
Not bad, the result was enough to get into the jump-off which is all that mattered. The only downside being that you’d go last again, great. But you had no time to think about that long, and a final push pays off big time.
You’re drenched in sweat, not as much sweat as Mella, whose coat is now a few shades darker in places, but more than that, you’re happy with your time: 39.055
It’s a podium win for you that night, just barely. If you hadn’t shaved 0.03 seconds off the previous rider’s time, you would have been fourth. Either way you wouldn’t complain.
The German national anthem plays, and you turn to the image of flag, smiling respectfully as you think about nothing other than going to bed. You accept your trophy from the Sheikha, thanking her and smiling as best you can despite the exhaustion.
When you wake up, your phone is flooded with unread messages, most of them excited congratulations from friends, family, and other equestrians, but one of them stands out.
It’s a message from Logan that reads: “Next time you’re on the podium I better hear the star-spangled banner.”
You laugh at how brazen the message is.
“I didn’t realize you were such a fan.” You respond.
“I had to see what all the hype is about.” He texts back immediately.
You look at your phone confused and text, “Go to bed it’s like 1am”.
“No it’s not, I’m in Azerbaijan right now, it’s 9 in the morning for me 😂”
You put your phone down.
What is going on with this guy? Maybe you’d misheard him at the party, and he actually works in oil or something. You shake your head and start packing your things, running through the checklist of things you need to do in your head.
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“Mate who are you texting? We’re in the middle of a conversation.” Alex says nudging Logan a bit harder than he meant to.
The two Williams drivers were having breakfast together on their last day in Baku, somewhat celebrating their not-entirely-miserable GP last weekend. They knew not to expect too much from their cars, but anything above p15 was worth celebrating—even though neither of them had scored any points.
“This girl that I met over break,” he responds, rolling his eyes at the face Alex makes at him, “she rides horses and won her competition yesterday—well, she got podium at least.”
“Must be nice,” Alex scoffs, looking out across the city, “maybe her success will rub off on us.”
Alex continued to talk about tech specs and things he wanted to chat with the team about improving for Miami, but Alex’s comment had put a rock in Logan’s stomach. Miami…he’d almost forgotten about the paddock passes. He thought about the way you’d said it, how your friends were excited but that you hoped you wouldn’t be too tired. He thought about the way the sun had caught in your hair the day you met, the way you’d stood closer to him when the two of you were leaving, the way he could still smell your perfume even after you’d driven away. He could feel his neck flushing hot at the thought of seeing you again.
“Do you want to see about getting her a paddock pass for the next race? She’s in Florida yeah?” The off-handed remark from Alex snaps Logan out of his daze.
“Uh no, not yet at least. It’s really not that serious.” Logan said, finally making eye contact again with his teammate. Not wanting to admit that you already had a pass.
“Dude you are literally stalking her Instagram right now…” Alex points out, gesturing to Logan’s phone, which was in fact open to your Instagram page.
“You don’t even follow her?” Alex asked, craning his neck around to see the screen better.
Logan shuts off his phone.
“No!” He replied defensively, before trying to explain himself. “She doesn’t know. If I follow her, she’d…” he trailed off.
His teammate looked at him amused from the other side of the table; his arms folded across his chest as he leaned back in his chair. He didn’t say anything, Logan knew what he would have said anyways, and it wasn’t worth hashing out when they both needed to be on a plane in a couple hours.
On the flight home, the anxiety of possibly seeing y/n in Miami, in the paddock no less, was hitting Logan like a freight train. He hadn’t told Alex that you’d be attending. He thought through every possible scenario as he stared blankly out the window.
She doesn’t see me and it’s fine…my face is going to be plastered everywhere.
She doesn’t recognize me…no, I’ve been sending her photos and she’s not dumb.
She does recognize me but it’s not a big deal…what if it is a big deal.
She freaks out and becomes a totally different person…that would be bad.
Let me check all the photos I’ve sent her to make sure nothing could be a PR disaster…this is going to take hours.
She freaks out in a bad way and hates me for lying…that one sucks.
For all it’s cracked up to be, being a Formula One driver was not a helpful attribute when it came to dating, and Logan sighed to himself as he got off the plane back in London—checking your Instagram one last time to see if you’d posted anything new.
You hadn’t. Just the photo of you on the podium in Doha smiled back at him through the screen.
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You check your watch, automatically converting the time to whatever time it is in Oxfordshire in your head. You hoped Logan would watch as he’d promised to, even though it was getting late for him. Walking Mella in another wide circle, your trainer comes to get you.
“You’re up in two. Ready?” She asks in her usual stern, yet peppy manner.
“Yeah, we’ve got this.” You say, looking towards the arena, letting out a quiet, but forced breath.
The Global Champions Tour event in Miami isn’t called Miami Beach for no reason. The competition is literally on the beach. Sure, they bring in actual footing for the arena, so you’re not jumping on bare sand, but it still looks like you are. You watch the turquoise waves turn a light crystalline blue before crashing lazily on the beach—only a stone’s throw from the arena. Before you can get lost in the beauty of it all, it’s your turn.
You breeze your way into the jump-off. You feel your phone vibrate in your hand as you pull it out of your pocket. You glance at the new message.
“Go get ‘em 🇺🇸” the message reads.
You smile at your phone, sending back a heart before handing off the phone to your trainer and making your way into the area. As they announce your name, you think about the plan you’d devised with your trainer: there’s a possible shortcut to fence 11 if you take an insane line in between fences 8 and 2. It’s nuts, but Mella has more than enough ‘go’ in her as you called it, and it’s worth the gamble if it can save you the time…if.
Logan watches as you enter the arena, his phone screen creating a glow around his face in the darkness of his room. The commentators announce your name and make remarks about your performance earlier in the Grand Prix and in qualifying; he can feel his heart start to beat a bit faster. It’s approaching 10pm for him and he knows his performance coach would kill him if he knew he was staying up, but he didn’t care.
The buzzer goes off and you fly through the first two thirds of the course. As you take off over fence 10, Logan’s comment about wanting to hear the American national anthem sticks in your head and you make your decision. Mella lands and you whip your head around, burying your seat into the saddle and opening your inside rein as you commit hard to the line. You feel her shift underneath you as you push, immediately understanding what you were asking of her. It’s a short approach and, since you’ve gone last again, if you mess this up, it will mark a disappointing end to the event.
You land clear.
37.002 on the clock.
Nearly 2 whole seconds faster than the current time to beat.
You throw your fist into the air and let go of the reins to pat Mella vigorously as you let her cool down. You don’t think you could smile harder if you tried. Once the ringside interview was over with, and you’d had time to throw on a hat to cover your helmet hair, you checked your phone. There were too many messages to deal with right now.
You stand tall on the first-place podium with your hands clasped behind your back. You take a deep breath to try and soak it all in, and as the American national anthem begins to play, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.
You smile just a bit more; you don’t have to check to know who the message was from.
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The rest of that weekend flies by with a few more interviews, parties thrown by friends and family, and a lot of sleeping. You have the next week off which will finally give you time to be a good friend to Lottie who has been all but begging you on her hands and knees to come out with her and Stella to finalize your F1 paddock outfits.
You pick out a cream and blue patterned sundress. There are a few golden yellow accents in the pattern printed on the fabric which Stella thinks take away from the dress, you disagree—not admitting that the color reminds you of the sunset you watched with a certain engineer. The dress fits you like a glove, with the shoulder straps tying in loose bows—the fabric flowing like water off your shoulders and down almost to the small of your back. The small cutouts at the edges of your ribcage are a bit racy, but you knew it was going to be hot and decided that more airflow would be better than less.
You’d all stopped by the Autodrome over the last few days to experience the excitement of free practice and qualifying, but you had been a shell of a person. It was all honestly a little overwhelming, especially in your diminished state, but you did what you could to enjoy the experience and be there for Lottie. You smiled for pictures together in all of your various outfits leading up to the race (you were saving the new dress for Sunday), grabbed Stella’s phone for her when she absentmindedly left it on tables, chairs, etc., and nodded along with Lottie’s excitement anytime she squealed about seeing anyone remotely important wearing red.
You’re still feeling a bit out of it Sunday morning when you’re woken by someone banging at your door and Ranger barking at said someone for disturbing him you.
“Y/N OPEN UP!! ITS RACE DAYYYYY!!!” Lottie yells through your door.
“Ok, ok, ok,” you groan as you pull yourself out of bed, “I’m coming.”
Stella is there too and the three of you get ready together, packing extra things you think you’ll need into Sammy’s backpack as you go. As the three of you head out the door, you grab a pair of sneakers to slip into the backpack for good measure. You’re good with heels, but you’re still tired, and you know it’s going to be a long day.
The track is a zoo.
Once you’re past the paddock security, things are a bit calmer, albeit not by a large margin. Sammy’s connections with F1 ended up being with Aston Martin through a convoluted friend of a friend of a cousin kind of situation that you no longer remembered the specifics of; although with Stella and Lottie both being models…it probably wouldn’t have been all that difficult for him to get the passes without the connection. You’re sure that of the three of you, you were likely the hardest sell to whoever was responsible for allocating passes.
That said, as you kept out of the way in the corner of the Aston Martin garage, you weren’t going to look the gift horse in the mouth.
When the drivers go by, you can hear the fans going crazy in the stands. You can’t imagine what that must be like, and you count your blessings that no one recognizes you without your horse. Honestly most people probably wouldn’t recognize you even with your horse. You’re pulled from your thoughts by Lottie’s hand grabbing your arm, leading you out of the garage with the rest of them in anticipation of the drivers returning from the parade. You stand out from the sea of Aston Martin racing green, Stellz a bit less so in her off-white dress, and Lottie blending in almost completely in her dark teal.
Maybe it’s this contrast that catches his eye, or something else, but Logan spots you right away. He manages to dip into the Williams garage quickly, but not before you’d noticed him as well even at such a distance.
That can’t be him, can it? You think to yourself, furrowing your brow ever so slightly. You pull out your phone and, speak of the devil, he’s just texted you:
“Enjoying the GP so far?”
“Yeah, it’s been fun! :)” You reply, following that first message up with: “I swear one of the drivers looks exactly like you.”
It takes a minute for him to respond.
Your phone buzzes and when you open the message there’s a photo. You zoom in and realize that it’s a photo of you and your friends just now chatting with the hospitality staff who have been shepherding you around. How was he here? You thought as you turned in the direction from which the photo must have been taken. You don’t see him.
Your phone buzzes again a moment later.
“That’s so weird, there’s a girl here that looks exactly like you 😂”
And again.
“Sorry, meeting in a sec, I’ll text you later. Enjoy the race ❤️”
Your mind is racing along with your heart.
Well, that would explain all the weird travel you think to yourself, and I couldn’t really blame him for not wanting to be up front about his job with some random girl he met at a party…
Still a bit foggy from the exhaustion of the last week, everything snaps into focus for you when you’ve left the paddock to grab some food (Sammy’s stomach had turned into a black hole as a teenager and stayed the same way ever since).
There was Logan.
Well, a poster of him—and a massive one at that—staring back at you in one of the main throughways. How had you missed this?? You thought, furrowing your brow once more.
You knew how you’d missed this; you weren’t as interested in the drivers as Lottie, and had spent most of your time checking your phone, or…yeah, it was mostly just checking your phone to see if Logan had texted you. The two of you had been texting a lot more frequently, especially now that you were both in the same state, never mind country, but the implications of your friendship (?)—you weren’t really sure what to call it—were hitting you like a freight train.
Stella and Lottie knew about Logan, but they didn’t know what he looked like. From what you’d told them, he was just the cute mechanical engineer son of some of your grandparent’s friend’s. He traveled a lot for work, but so did you, and he’d lasted the longest out of any of your previous relationship prospects; the two of you had been talking for around four and a half months by now. You had to keep the reality of your situation to yourself, at least for now, because you knew Lottie would FLIP the second you told her, and at the Miami GP of all places?  You winced at the thought.
Things are ramping up as the start of the race approaches. The four of you make your way back to the pit lane for a second time—Aston Martin hospitality seemingly intent on giving you a “real look at the action” as though you weren’t about to watch the race itself. You watch the team continue their preparations, still just as busy as before, but this time with more people.
You’re far away, but Logan notices you again, admiring the way your hair looks in the sun and the way the breeze catches the hem of your dress. He only has a few seconds to take you in, but it’s enough to drive him crazy.
He’d managed to qualify well, starting at p14, and as he settles into the car, he confirms with his race engineer that the goal is to have a clean race first and maybe fight his way into the points second. The race is not clean, with a pretty nasty crash through the chicane.
With a smaller field, Logan has a bit more of a chance. As the safety car pulls off into the pit lane ahead, he takes a deep breath—remembering that you’re up there somewhere watching him. He was p12 now, and as he waited for Verstappen to take off at the front of the pack, he thought about watching you win only a week before. He’d watched the livestream on his phone, but even through the small screen, the emotion was palpable. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit envious.
Maybe it was this envy that drove him to fight the way he did. With only 7 laps to go, it would be a tough push. Overtaking Tsunoda on the straight, he turned his attention to Magnussen who was only a second or two ahead of him.
Now just three laps before the end of the race.
He was aggressive, now right up on the Haas’s tail.
P10 was so close he could almost feel it.
After a failed overtake on the 56th lap, he only had one more shot. Pushing Magnussen at every turn he was starting to wear him down, the distraction in his mirrors causing the Dane to fall for the speed trap going into turn 17.
He tried desperately to defend his position from Logan, but the Williams managed to push past and finish 0.027 seconds ahead of the Haas.
Even though it was just one point, it was the second of his career and as he stepped out of the car, he was swarmed by his team; fielding the aggressive hugs, handshakes, and slaps on his helmet from them as they celebrated. He felt good.
You smile at the result; your friends don’t notice that you’re still watching the finish as they celebrate Leclerc’s podium. You send him a quick message:
“Proud of you 💪🇺🇸”
It’s the same thing he’d sent you last weekend when you were on the podium. You meant it too, despite your shock earlier, you can’t help but feel proud of the other American…among other things.
The four of you stayed until after the podium ceremony. Lottie rolled her eyes when the Dutch national anthem started to play, her annoyed comments replaced by coos when Leclerc took an unnecessarily passionate drink from the champagne bottle, letting the wine stream down the sides of his jaw and along his neck before spraying his colleagues with it.
“That’ll keep you going for a week.” You laugh, nudging Lottie with your elbow. She’s already giggling like a schoolgirl over the sight of the Ferrari driver.
“Careful, I think you might start drooling.” Stella piles on with a smile, amused by yet another of Lottie’s shameless displays of attraction.
You chatted once more with the Aston Martin hospitality staff, thanking them for their…hospitality and telling them to pass on your congratulations to the team on the drivers’ p5 and p9 finishes, before making your way back to the Maybach that Sammy insisted on driving—even though you all told him it made him look like an asshole.
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You’re not sure why you thought you’d feel less tired after arriving home from the Grand Prix, but that certainly wasn’t the case. You scrounged together your own makeshift dinner in the kitchen from whatever you could find in the fridge as you recounted the day to your parents. They had some fancy party to go to that evening, but still wanted to hear all about your day. Excusing yourself, partially so that your mom would finally stop asking questions and go get ready to leave, you went upstairs and flopped back onto your bed. You fully intended to get up after a minute and change out of your dress, shower, etc., but you were awoken almost 45 minutes later by your phone vibrating.
Logan was calling you.
You’d never sat up faster in your life.
“Hey, how’s that second point feeling?” You ask with a smile as you answer the call.
“Pretty amazing, I doubt you’ve experienced anything like it, probably can’t relate…” He replies with sarcastic grandeur.
You laugh and tell him that you really enjoyed watching the race, even though he was the last person you expected to see there. He feigns hurt, as though you’re accusing him of not looking like a race car driver, before apologizing for lying to you.
“I honestly thought you already knew.” He admitted. “You told me that you were going to be there…in January…I assumed you were just humoring me by asking me about my job. When I realized you genuinely didn’t know, I was worried about how you’d react.” He continued, laughing a bit at his assumption.
“I get that. I mean I took a gamble on you when I told you my real job, you wouldn’t BELIEVE the number of guys who would do anything to date me just so they can pet my horse.” You jokingly reply.
“Horse? No. Car? I would believe that.” He responded with a laugh.
There’s a bit of a lull in the conversation, he’s not quite sure how to ask, but you interrupt his thoughts.
“So, I assume your team had a big party this evening? Finishing top ten is a big deal! Did you do anything fun?” You ask, playing with the fabric of your dress absentmindedly.
“We did yeah, it was nice to have everyone in such a good mood after a race. It isn’t always like that.”
“Hey, you said it not me.” You tease in return.
“Shut up.”
You could hear him smile even as he said it.
“But hey speaking of celebrating, I keep meaning to ask if you’d want to get together? I was going to suggest dinner tonight, but I went out with the team, and I’m sure you’ve already eaten, and since I’m–I figured it–” He stumbles over his words a bit, trying to find a nice way to say that he doesn’t want the two of you in the public eye.
“Logan, it’s ok,” you laugh, “why don’t you just come up to the farm? It’s a bit of a drive from Miami, but it’s not terrible.”
You can hear him let out what you assume is a quick sigh of relief.
“Yeah actually, that sounds perfect. Text me your address and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
You tell him to park at the stable instead of the house and that you’ll be there to let him in. Finally getting off your bed, you decide it’s not worth it to change. You don’t know what kind of car Logan has, but you assume he’ll be here much faster than your maps says it will take. You freshen up your face and brush your hair, taking a moment to make sure that you look alright in the mirror before you head downstairs.
You tug on your sneakers in the entryway before slipping out the door into the cool night air.
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You rub a hand over the goosebumps on your arm as you wait for Logan outside the stable. You should have grabbed a jacket but couldn’t bring yourself to care given that in only a few minutes you’d finally get to see the boy you’d been talking to and falling for throughout the past several months.
You’d texted Logan the gate code when he’d messaged you that he was five minutes out, and now you couldn’t take your eyes off the driveway as you waited—searching for any trace of his headlights in the darkness.
You didn’t have to wait long.
You greeted him with a hug and another congratulations as he stepped out of his car. As he wrapped his arms around, you he faltered. Pulling back, he felt your arms—the warmth of his hands sending sparks through your body.
“Y/n…you’re freezing.” He said quietly, pulling you back into the hug and almost instinctively bringing you closer to his chest. You tuck your arms around him inside his jacket—the warmth is almost intoxicating.
“I know,” you say muffled by his t-shirt, “I meant to grab a jacket, but I was too excited.”
“Excited?” He asks, pulling away once more. You watch his eyes flicker across your figure.
“Don’t let it go to your head.” You roll your eyes, ignoring the hint of a smirk on his face, and trying to ignore the way your heart rate spikes every time he looks at you.
The silence between you only lasts a fraction of a second, but the tension isn’t something you can bear.
“A walk will warm me up,” you say as you turn from him and start walking toward the stable, “come on, I’ll show you around.”
You introduce him to the horses, laughing at how timid a man who drives over 200mph for work could be around what are glorified farm animals. The time passes quickly as you wander the grounds, chatting about everything that’s happened in the time since you’d first met.
Finding yourselves in the garden, the two of you sit side by side on one of the benches near the fountain. Your light-hearted banter about the struggles of international travel had shifted to commiserating over how difficult it can be to form and maintain friendships with jobs like yours, nevertheless relationships.
 When you make a comment that you’d accepted that you might never find someone since guys your age aren’t interested in a girl who travels so much and is so successful, Logan goes quiet.
Gingerly he takes your hand, and you feel your cheeks flush as his eyes meet yours.
He looks as though he wants to say something; his eyes searching your face. You can’t bear the silence, although you don’t mind looking at him like this with his hair illuminated by the cool moonlight.
“Logan, I didn’t mean you…” you say softly.
He really did want to say something. He wanted to tell you how he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you, how he wished he could have taken you out for a proper date that evening, and how desperately he wanted to kiss you.
You shiver a bit and the two of you agree that it’s getting late.
He gives you another hug before he gets into his car. It’s tight and you relax into his touch, breathing in the way he smells, and appreciating his strength as he holds you into the embrace. He presses the side of his head against yours for a moment before letting you go.
The two of you say your goodbyes, promising to see each other again soon, and you make your way back to the house; somehow the chill of the air doesn’t bother you quite as much.
When you’ve finally changed out of your dress and into the silk robe you sleep in, your phone vibrates. You look over at it on the bathroom counter as you brush your teeth. Logan has texted you.
“Thanks for this evening :) it was lovely to see you again and meet the horses”, the message reads.
You smile and type back a quick message: “Anytime :)”
You pause for a moment, thinking about your date (? could you even call it that? you thought to yourself), before sending a second message.
His phone lights up with the new message, immediately catching his attention.
“You could have kissed me tonight you know.” The message from you reads.
He closes his eyes, sighing to himself as he tipped his head back to rest against his bedframe. He knew he could have, hell he wanted to, and it took almost everything to hold himself back, but he was acutely aware of the fact that being a formula one driver comes with a lot of baggage—baggage he often wished he didn’t have to deal with.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“I wanted to, but I didn’t want to make things awkward or make you think I was taking advantage of you”, he continued in a second text.
Ranger cuddles up a bit closer to you on your bed and you stroke the little dog’s fur as you contemplate the messages. You know it must be hard for him, with girls probably throwing themselves at him any chance they get. The thought makes you a bit jealous, but you still feel for him—thinking back to his hesitation to tell you about his real career and how free he must have felt in those months getting to know you as nothing more than a 9-5 mech e.
“I appreciate that :)” you reply, before making your feelings a bit more explicit. “I would have wanted you to kiss me even if you were just a mechanical engineer.”
He stares at your message. The gears in his head turning as he tries to fit what you’re saying with what he’s always believed about himself—realizing he perhaps has a flawed perception of reality when it came to dating.
Looking out across the city lights from his window, he thought about how he’d always envied Oscar for having such a perfect relationship even before the two of them moved up into F1, about how effortless Alex’s relationship was despite both of them being elite athletes, about how at ease he’d felt with you tonight and all those months prior when you’d first met.
Maybe he does deserve having something like that himself.
Maybe he’d been too cautious with you.
“That means a lot, Y/n, really.” He responds after a moment before the two of you say your good-nights.
You wake up to a good morning message from Logan asking how you slept. The two of you exchanged messages all morning, making you smile as you ate breakfast, took the dogs for a walk, prepped your tack trunk for your next flight.
By the afternoon, Logan had meetings and you took your notebook with you to the garden.
Leaning back against the stone wall, you closed your eyes—reveling in the warm sun caressing your face and the sound of the fountain filling the air. When you opened your eyes, you look to the bench where you and Logan had sat together not even 24 hours previously and smiled to yourself.
Writing in your journal had never been easier.
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Only a couple months had passed since seeing Logan after the Miami GP, but you still missed his warmth. Not a day had gone by without the two of you texting each other. It wasn’t always anything important or meaningful, but the connection itself was grounding in the midst of all your travel.
You were doing well. Despite your falter in Mexico City, you had managed to get on the podium again in Madrid and had arrived in Monaco early to train. Typically, the French events were before Monaco, but something to do with politics? Weather? —you couldn’t remember—had caused the organizers to rearrange the calendar, and you had no complaints. Monte-Carlo was always as beautiful as you remembered it to be, and you spent the little time you had between training, sleeping, and eating, letting yourself get lost in the public gardens or winding streets in the hills above the city. Any excuse you could use to soak up the stunning city.
One evening, you wandered down from your hotel room to one of the harbors. It had become almost a tradition for you to scour the slips for yachts you thought your grandfather would like and send photos of them to him. He didn’t hide how much he enjoyed the activity, particularly because it often meant making new yachting friends through your encounters with them about their boats—not many older men could resist coming to talk to the pretty young girl taking photos of their yachts.
It always played out the same way: either you were spotted walking along the dock by someone, or spotted as you took photos. No one had ever been harsh with you, but especially at some of the more prestigious places you went, you were always expected to have a reason for being there.
Upon learning that your grandfather has many yachts himself and that you yourself were a member of a yacht club in the states with reciprocal privileges almost anywhere—you always had to carry your membership card with you when you traveled for this purpose—the folks you ran into would always swiftly change into good spirits, if they hadn’t been already.
As much as you enjoyed getting to talk boats with people in all these different countries, you were thankful that tonight no one bothered you. That is until you turned back onto the main walkway after leaving the marina. You were in the middle of replying to one of your grandfather’s many texts about the boats you’d sent him when your phone started buzzing—Logan's contact showing up on your screen as he called.
“Hey what’s up?” You ask nonchalantly.
“I’ve just arrived for the race this weekend and there’s a girl here that looks just like you.” Logan responds.
You think you might be hearing things because you swear that you could hear his voice in person at the same time you heard it through the phone.
You turn your head slowly and see Logan smiling at you a couple paces back. A similar smile spreads across your face as you end the call, almost running to him.
He catches you in a hug, instinctively greeting you with a light kiss to the temple as he does—a move that you both realize is a big risk in a place like Monaco.
“What are you doing here so early? I thought your Grand Prix wasn’t for another two weeks?” He asks as you pull away.
“Maybe I just wanted to see you.” You tease, smiling a bit deviously at him.
“Y/n…” he says with gentle exasperation, “you know I can’t get you a paddock pass we talked about this. It’s too much too soon.” His eyes dart around quickly to make sure no one’s listening.
“Hey you’re the one who kissed me just now…” You say raising your eyebrows at him with the same smile.
He rolls his eyes at you, and you continue, “besides, my hotel room overlooks the track so I don’t NEED a paddock pass.”
He understands the devious look now. He knows that you enjoy tormenting him with information like this.
“Ah right, sorry, I forgot I’m talking to someone whose team actually has money.” He looks at you with a smile and only a slight hint of annoyance.
The two of you walk along the deep blue water together, happy to be in each other’s company, chatting about all manner of things, but particularly both of your feelings about your respective upcoming Grands Prix. When the two of you come to the end of the breakwater you’d been walking along, Logan suggests that the two of you sit and watch the sunset. It’s a secluded spot, and after a quick look around, you lean into him, placing your head on his shoulder as you watch the golden light dance across the water. He turns his head and plants a kiss on the top of your head in response.
“I’ve missed you.” He says quietly, his lips still brushing against your hair.
“I’ve missed you too.” You say as you smile softly and close your eyes, turning your focus to the sounds of the gulls circling overhead and the water lapping near your feet.
You sit in silence together and he wraps his arm around you as you watch the light fade—the sky turning from a peachy pink to brilliant orange, then slightly red—listening to the sound of each other’s breathing and feeling the warmth reflected between your bodies.
It had been a few hours but felt like it had only been minutes.
“Do you want to come over?” Logan asked, still looking out at the sea.
“Logan–”
“Yeah, sorry it’s probably a bad idea.” He cut you off.
“No,” you laugh as you sit up to face him properly, “I would love that, but I was going to ask if you want to stay at my place...it’s definitely bigger.”
He shakes his head, laughing at your unabashed bragging, but agrees.
The fact is that your hotel room IS bigger than his, which becomes thuddingly obvious to him as soon as you scan into the room.
“How do you guys afford this kind of stuff?” Logan asks you as he walks towards the balcony to see the track that he’ll be driving in only a few days.
“Eh,” you shrug, “drive for a better team and you can stay in hotels like this too.” You laugh, winking teasingly at him when he glares at you over his shoulder. He’s annoyed but he still can’t help but smile.
“I’ve heard some of the other drivers even have homes here…maybe you should buy one? You wouldn’t even have to stay in a hotel…” You say with a smirk, adding fuel to the fire. You tease him plenty over text, but this is the first time you’ve been comfortable enough with him to do it in person, and he knows exactly what you’re doing.
He takes the bid and before you know it, he’s tackled you onto the bed.
“You’re trouble. You know that?” He asks, looking down at you like he knows something you don’t, his lips curling into a mischievous smile.
Before you can answer, one of his legs pin you to the bed and you feel his fingers begin pinching playfully at your sides. You spiral into a fit of laughter, trying to push him off you in vain until your ribs hurt from laughing. He takes mercy on you and relents, satisfied that the tickling has proved his point.
“Ok, ok, you win!” You laugh breathlessly.
He smiles in triumph and collapses onto you, causing you to let out a pathetic wheeze which only makes the two of you laugh harder. He shifts his body weight off of you, rolling slightly onto his side, but never breaks his gaze as he watches you catch your breath.
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting for so long,” he says, his face now a bit more serious, “I really like you and I was just–I was scared.”
You turn your head to look at him, smiling at his vulnerability.
“That’s ok, I get it. I’d probably feel the same way in your position.” You reply, still a bit winded. “I really like you too, so I didn’t mind; we make a pretty good team” you add, unable to contain your smile.
He looks at you for a moment, studying your face, before reaching for you.
The two of you were closer to each other than you thought and as his fingers slid to the back of your neck, his thumb cradling the back of your jaw, he did what you’d been waiting for him to do for a long time. The kiss was soft and sweet. As attached as the two of you had become over the last six months, he still gave you butterflies every time he got close, and this had them almost bursting from your chest. He started to pull away, but this time you were the one to pull him in, placing your hand on the back of his neck to mirror his on yours. This second kiss was hungrier and more passionate, as though the only way to breath was through him. It was as like you were trying to make up for the months you’d spent as just friends.
You spent the rest of the evening tangled up with one another, probably inseparable even if you tried. He kissed your neck as you ordered room service for the two of you, trying to distract you despite the fact that you were both starving. When he notified his team that he’d be staying the night with you, you were cuddled up on his chest watching him type out the message, your head nestled between his collar and jaw.
The two of you talked about everything that night, falling asleep snuggled up together—your bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.
Your eyes flutter open, the early morning light just starting to filter in through the curtains. Logan is firmly pressed up against you with one arm under your neck and the other wrapped around your chest and under your arm, holding you close to him. His legs are in the same position as yours, seemingly desperate to have every part of his body touching yours. You can feel each breath he takes fall soft and warm across your bare shoulder. You lace your fingers into his with your left hand and clutch his thumb with your right.
He's still fast asleep.
Right as you’re about to wake him, you feel him stir against you.
“Good morning.” He says groggily, his voice still scratchy with sleep.
“Good morning princess...” you tease, pulling out of his grasp to kiss his forehead.
He grumbles at the comment and loss of warmth but gives you a kiss in return, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he gets up.
He has a late start that day so the two of you decide to share a room service breakfast out on the balcony. You listen intently as he explains the track to you turn by turn, unable to help yourself smile at his passion for the sport. He catches your eye as you grin at him in adoration, your smile infecting him as he continues his explanation.
Since you’re wearing nothing but your robe, Logan gets up when there’s a knock on the door. He pulls on his pants from the day before and throws on your old CWD jacket that you still bring everywhere—it’s a bit tight on him.
“You know I preferred the boxers to this.” You smile in amusement, looking him up and down in his cobbled-together outfit.
“I bet you did,” he says rolling his eyes a bit as he placed the food on the table, kissing the top of your head before settling back into his seat, “but I’m not taking it off now just because you’ve said that.” He smirks at you from across the table, knowing full well how ridiculous he looks in your old jacket as he starts to eat.
The food is surprisingly good—it had better be for the price—but it’s still room service food. The two of you eat quietly, both still a bit hungry from the night before, trading bits of food from between each other’s plates as though you’ve had breakfast together a million times before.
“You know, I’ve heard Monaco actually has good food.” You say sarcastically, poking a sad looking blueberry with your fork.
“I have heard that,” Logan nods, looking across the immeasurable blue of the Mediterranean, “such a shame we can’t experience it.” His eyes flicker to meet yours, glinting with that same mischief as last night.
You laugh together. Everything is so easy with him.
He’s quiet for a minute before he reaches for your hand.
“Y/n, I know this is sooner than we talked about, but will you be my girlfriend?” His expression is soft, but part of him almost looks anxious. “I’ve never had something like this before…every time I’m away from you I just–I can’t stand the thought of losing you.” He says looking down, then to the road, then back to you.
You smile as you squeeze his hand, “Logan I would love that,” he was still looking at you expectantly, “…yes.”
You can’t help but laugh as he relaxes back into his chair letting out a quick sigh of relief in response to your answer before joining in your laughter. He spends the rest of your breakfast together beaming at you across the table, looking at you like he’s trying to drink you in with his eyes.
It’s only 10:23 in the morning, but it’s the best day of his life.
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It’s November in Prague.
You’re exhausted.
Smiling in your Longines baseball cap, the blue sash awkwardly across your chest, you lift your second-place trophy into the air as flames rise up from behind the podium. You hadn’t managed to score enough points to win the championships—a few penalties and a 9th place in Rome had dashed those hopes—but you were more than happy to be runner-up.
After lots of hugs, a few interviews, and a bit more champagne from your team, you finally have a chance to check your phone.
“I’m so proud of you baby ❤️” The message from Logan reads.
You can’t believe that even after all this time he still gives you butterflies.
The two of you had kept things incredibly quiet. You’d followed each other on Instagram but that was the most public you had taken things, and even that took weeks of deliberation for the two of you to decide. You’d come to Silverstone and Austin, sort of. The locations kind of lined up with your events so were able to sneak away for a night or two to be with him, but even then, your dates were mostly confined to hotels.
Now that the Global Champions tour was finished, could finally see him a bit more, and the two of you were both counting down the days to his winter break.
It’s late in Brazil but you call him anyway when you get back to your hotel room. When he picks up, the two of you talk for hours. You congratulate him again on his p11 finish from the night before and he laughs, commenting that your accomplishment is far more impressive than a p11. He’s too humble for his own good. He does admit, however, that he’s feeling better and better about the car, and that he wants you to be at the Las Vegas GP. It’s another street circuit so you’d be able to book a hotel room overlooking the track and watch from there like you had in Monaco.
You couldn’t help but agree and the two of you sketched out plans—him telling you about his favorite turns and where the best place would be to watch, and you tapping through booking websites to find something reasonable, sending the ones you like best to him for vetting. You find the perfect one and book it that night.
A week or so passes and you’re standing in your hotel room overlooking the Las Vegas circuit. You know Logan’s down there somewhere since he’s been sending you unbelievably blurry, zoomed-in pictures of your hotel from the garage saying that he can see you. You chuckle to yourself and shake your head each time you get one of these messages.
“Get back to work 😂” You reply to the latest one.
“🙄” is all you get in response.
The F1TV channel blares from the hotel tv behind you as you wish him good luck. He sends back his thanks and the usual string of red heart emojis that litter your text conversations.
As the lights go off, he manages to get a good start off his p13 box. Fighting through the pack through the blur of white and neon lights of the city, he manages to move up into p10 by the 45th lap. Stroll has had a bad go of the race, the Aston Martin slightly damaged from an incident earlier in the race. His pace is faltering and as he crosses into the 48th lap, Logan is right on his rear wing.
You feel like your neck is going to snap from the way you whip your head back and forth from the track below you to the tv when you can’t see the cars, but you don’t have to when Logan overtakes the Aston Martin right in front of you to take p9.
From the Williams car, he can’t take his eyes off the track, but Logan knows which part of the circuit you’re on. He knows you just watched the best overtake of his career. His heart is beating a bit faster than usual.
It’s a good thing your heart rate isn’t the one being monitored because you can feel it beating out of your chest when Logan maintains the position not only for the rest of this lap, but for the next two.
You text him immediately after he crosses the finish line, gushing your congratulations and telling him how proud of him you are.
He doesn’t respond, but that’s not unusual. You leave the post-race show on as you get ready for bed and distractedly scroll through social media. You can barely stand the few photos of him in his race suit that show up on your feed. It’s unfair that he looks so good even when he’s functionally wearing a onesie.
Not even an hour later, there’s a knock at your door.
 You’re not expecting anyone, and when you open the door, you’re even more surprised to see Logan. He smothers you in a hug as the door closes behind him, kissing you anywhere he can. You laugh trying to push him away to ask him how he managed to get up to you so fast.
“I begged James to let me go early,” he says in between kisses, anticipating your question before you can even ask. Pressing his forehead to yours, he continued, “I missed you so much, I couldn’t stand being away from you another minute.”
His blonde hair is still sweaty as you run your hands through it, and the collar of his white Nomex is peeking out from the top of his hoodie. You wonder for a second how no one could have noticed it, but you couldn’t care less because all that mattered now was that he was here. Pulling him in for a real kiss—the hungry, desperate kind that you only got when the two of you had been apart for too long—you felt him take hold of you and push you back onto the bed, never breaking the kiss.
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The soft rustle of the trees in the wind outside your window distracts you from the book you've been lost in for the last hour. You were finally back home in Florida and your parents had left the house to you while they were away for an event with friends in California. Well, they'd left it to you and Logan, but his flight hadn't landed yet.
You'd both told your families about the relationship, and a couple close friends but not many. It was still a small step, but it felt promising. You’d never felt this way about someone before.
Hearing a car pulling up the driveway, you leapt to your feet and nearly tripped down the stairs in your hurry. You were bursting out the front door as Logan stepped out of his car. He picked you up and spun you around when you made it to him. Once he set you back down on the ground, he kissed you long and hard, cradling your jaw with one hand and your waist with the other.
“Hi angel.” He said with a smile when he finally pulled away. It was cute that he’d started picking up on the pet names you called him.
You helped him unload his bags and bring them upstairs to your room, chatting about his results from the end of the season, your plans together for the next few weeks, the weather forecast, and anything else that came to mind. Ranger and Kitty dancing about at his feet in excitement as he tried to move about the house. The two of you laughed at their antics before returning to the rambling conversation, unpacking his things in your well-practiced routine—the two of you working together like a well-oiled machine.
It was early afternoon, and you were hungry, so the two of you moved your conversation to the kitchen to make lunch together. As much as the distance could be tough, it was all worth it for moments like this, loosely tangled in each other’s arms chatting in the kitchen about everything you hadn’t been there in person for. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.
The days pass like minutes. Living together with him like this is heaven. You’d both been a bit apprehensive about the situation when your parents had first offered to have him stay at the house, but like the rest of your relationship with Logan, it was as easy as anything. He often joked that he got all of his allotted ‘struggle’ out of him on the racetrack.
As much time as you spend flopped on top of one another, you did both like having your own time to be alone, and Logan had become fond of the garden—probably in no small part to the moment you’d shared there under the moonlight all those months ago. He told you that he was going to head down there to hang out for a bit when something caught his attention—a small leather-bound notebook on the corner of your dresser.
“Is this your journal?” He asked inquisitively, “I didn’t know you had one”, he continued, running a few fingers across the worn cover to point it out to you.
 “I’m not really sure you can call it that,” you laughed, “I barely write anything in it, you can read it if you’d like.”
He takes you up on the offer, leafing through the pages as he makes his way down to the garden. He can’t seem to put it down. Even though the entries are sporadic, they go all the way back to 2013, and he’s fascinated by how similar you are now in some ways and how different in others to the young girl who first started writing in the journal. No one is going to deny that your life has been easy, but he can see the bits of conflict and moments of great success that have shaped the woman you are now, even if it’s only through these fragmented passages.
He reaches one of the latest entries, dated January 11th of that year. His breath hitches in his chest as he reads about the first time that you met from your perspective. He knows now how much you care about him for him, but seeing that all laid out in front of his eyes through your writing is something else. Flipping the page, he sees that the next entry is from the day after the Miami GP, May 8th. His eyes dart across the page; if he had to guess based on the way you write about him alone, he’d think that the two entries had been written on the same day.
He looks up from the pages to study the flowers and perfectly manicured shrubs around him that sway lazily in the breeze, blinking away the tears that form at the corners of his eyes. Putting the notebook on the bench, he leaves the garden momentarily to find a pen in the kitchen.
When you step out into the garden, your hair flutters in the cool breeze like the dappled shadows that flutter on the ground beneath you as you walk towards Logan. He’s sitting with his back to you, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders when you reach him, placing gentle kisses on the side of his neck. You smile when you see that he’s still holding your journal.
“So? How was the world’s most inconsistent novel?” You ask with a kind smile, amused that he would have spent such a large chunk of his afternoon reading your ramblings.
Logan looked up at you in your little yellow sundress, mulling your words over in his head. Inconsistent he thought, smiling to himself, you had no idea how wrong you were.
“I liked it,” he said finally, “I really liked the last entry.”
Flipping to the right page, he handed the journal to you before kissing your forehead and getting up to start making dinner for the two of you. You smiled as you looked at the page, reading your own writing was always a bit strange, but this time it felt almost comforting. You read the parts about how the best part of him being an F1 driver meant that you could see him again that afternoon, and how warm and kind his was that evening on the farm. How he gave you butterflies just like the first night you’d met. You laughed to yourself, amazed that so little had changed. When you finished reading the entry, you noticed something that you swear hadn’t been there before: a small arrow at the bottom of the page pointing to the next. You don’t remember doing that.
Furrowing your brow slightly, you flip the page. Your eyes widen when you see that Logan has written an entry of his own. It’s not long, but its heartfelt. He mirrors your own writing from the previous passages, writing about how nervous you made him feel, how nervous he felt at the thought of things not working out, and how nervous he felt that it had all been too good to be true, until he read your journal. Your heart ached by the time you reached the end of the entry:
“You said in Monaco that you think we make a pretty good team, but you’re wrong. We make an amazing team.
I love you so much.”
Fighting back tears of your own, you head straight to him in the kitchen.
Thrusting yourself into his arms—interrupting whatever he’s been tending to on the stove—you bury your face in his chest. He laughs and runs his fingers through your hair with one hand as he sets down the spatula he had in the other. He holds you close for a moment before you compose yourself.
“I love you too.” You say softly, smiling up at him.
“I love you more.” He responds, tucking a stray bit of hair behind your ear, his smile brighter than any star.
Outside on the bench in the garden, the pages of your journal flutter slightly in the breeze before flipping ahead to a blank page as the wind picks up. A pair of leaves from the tree above fall in a flurry, glowing in the golden light of the early evening, and dancing around one another before landing on the empty page—becoming wedged in the crease between the pages with another gust of wind.
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author's note: this is my first time doing this and I got WAY in over my head. I did have to shuffle around the F1/LGCT schedule and some logistics a little bit so don't pay too close attention to that...or how well Logan does...or inconsistencies with normal hotel security practices. Also, I doubt that many people are going to make it all the way through this monster, but if you like it I am so sorry but I am literally not writing anything again. This ruined my life bc it took so long to complete :'|
dividers modified from those created by @/saradika
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Luke Skywalker is a hero for people with anxiety
(Contains spoilers from Episodes 4-6).
A lot of people relate to Luke Skywalker. He's down-to-earth, honest, and always strives for the light. Watching Star Wars again for the first time in a while, however, I realized something. When I looked it up on the internet, I was surprised that I couldn't find a lot of discussions about it. What do I mean? That Luke Skywalker suffers from anxiety.
The deleted scene from Tosche station, which I recently saw for the first time, sheds some light on this aspect of Luke's character. In the scene, we learn from Luke's friends that he panics easily. They're all chiding him for ‘again’ thinking that the Empire is coming. Even though he's just seen Princess Leia's ship fighting with Darth Vader's ship, his friends begin gaslighting him.
Someone online pointed out that this scene causes Luke's statement “there's nothing left for me here, now” to be more forceful. Upon finding out that his Aunt and Uncle are dead, Luke doesn't go to his friends for help. You wonder what his friends thought upon hearing that Luke's family had been killed by stormtroopers, right after he'd tried to warn them.
This aspect of Luke's character, and how he is treated by his friends, conditions him to not ask for help. In the ESB, as he's dying on Hoth, he never calls for anyone. If Obi-Wan hadn't shown up, Luke wouldn't have started calling out to him. If he hadn't started shouting, Han Solo wouldn't have seen him. 
This trend continues. Luke panics about things, but doesn't ask for help. Yoda tries to help him, getting him to relax and clear his mind. But, the vision of his friends worries him too much. He makes light of Obi-Wan’s warning that the Empire is after him for his talents. Luke is still holding onto what he told Biggs in the deleted scene from Tosche station–that the Empire will never draft him. 
During the fight on Cloud City, Vader acknowledges that Luke has learned to control his fear. Remember, Luke canonically gets so scared of the Sand People that he faints in the first movie. There's almost a parallel of that first moment, as Vader knocks Luke down and holds his lightsaber to Luke's throat just like the Sand People knocked him down before.
Luke has always gotten through things on his own. But, at this moment, he loses his hand. Losing his hand is symbolic of Luke losing the ability to do everything on his own. His father, who he always idolized and held onto, is evil. He's alone. He realizes that everyone was trying to protect him from this reality. Even his aunt and uncle let him think that his father was a hero, because it helped Luke to hold on. 
He finally reaches out to Leia. He finally forms a real connection with someone, which requires being vulnerable, and overcoming his fear of not being taken seriously. And, Leia rescues him. 
In the ROTJ, Luke tells Obi-Wan that he can't do this alone. He starts working with Han and Leia, and realizing that he is actually important to them. He trusts Leia enough to tell her that she is his sister, and that he has to save their father. 
But, still, Luke is trying to do everything on his own. He goes to face his father, and tries to be calm. He tries to avoid becoming angry. He tries to control the anxiety that got him ridiculed by his friends. The anxiety that led him to destroy Vader in his vision during his training on Degobah. The anxiety that he sees as his greatest flaw. 
But, he panics. He goes after Vader, and cuts off his hand. And, that's when he realizes it. 
All his life, Luke has wanted to be like his father. He praised himself for the positive qualities that are like his father. Being a good pilot. Being a Jedi (before he knew that his father was Vader). But at this moment, Luke looks at Vader's mechanical hand, and realizes that his father is just like him. His father is anxious. His father was scared, and overwhelmed once, just like him. His father didn't have anyone to turn to. 
Luke stands up to the Emperor, but that isn't what causes this scene to be so powerful. It's the fact that, as Luke is dying, he says the words his father once desperately wanted to say to someone.
“Help me.” 
“Please, help me.”
And Anakin, who wished someone would help him, who told Luke that it was too late for him, realizes that he can be that person for someone else. The pain he's gone through his whole life doesn't have to be passed on. He can save his son from the same fate. And he does. 
That's why Luke Skywalker is a hero for people who suffer from anxiety. Because he shows us the importance of accepting ourselves. Of self-compassion. Of reaching out to others. Of not being afraid to ask for help when we need it. And, if we do, we might just be that little spark of hope that someone else needs. 
May the Force be with you, always.
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babayagakeanu · 3 days
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Dating a jealous John Constantine (p2)
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Before you and John got together, you had your fun, and you had your friends. You were always headed to the next bar with your friends when you first met John in passing. Tall, dark, and handsome, you were immediately drawn to him.
You saw him again when you were closing up your antique bookstore and he stopped in.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we’re closed for the night.” You stare at him as he lights up a cigarette. “And we definitely don’t allow smoking in here, either.”
”Sorry, doll.” Flicking out his cig, he walks up to your counter. “I need a book, and I’m hoping you have it.” He was a little pale, like he’d seen a ghost, and if it wasn’t for your terrified scream at the looming dark figure behind him, you and him would probably be toast right about now.
Ever since he saved both your lives that night, you agreed to drive him around jobs in the city, and it was fun and terrifying at the same time.
he’d started to grow close with you after some time, the sound of your laughter making his stomach do cartwheels, the way your hair smelled right after your shower, and the way you applied your lotion to your legs had him stiffening in his pants. Doing this in front of him was an innocent act on your part, but you were oblivious to the torture you were causing.
Asking john to fasten your necklaces was a common reoccurrence. He was tall and could see the back of your neck anyways so it was just easier for him to do it. He’d fasten the necklace, all the while, holding his breath as to not sigh out in part of the sweet smell wafting from your neck; some old perfume of yours.
You had gotten your first boyfriend some months after meeting John, still oblivious to the huge crush he had on you. Everything was going fine, until John started to act weird around you and your partner.
He’d come out just wrapped in a towel from the shower, and you’d catch yourself staring at him, mouth catching flies as he states, “oh, sorry guys, thought I’d be alone tonight.” He smirks, and he knows what he’s doing.
Your boyfriend would try and talk to john about getting you gifts, asking what you’d like and John would give him wrong answers out of pure jealousy.
Don’t even get me started on how he would be starring daggers at the guy whenever he would kiss or touch you in front of John.
Dude is full on simp-mode at this point
When you finally break up with your current toy, John takes every opportunity to make you realize he’s it for you.
Purposefully placing things on the top shelf so you’d ask him too bring it down, his hands grabbing at your waist, sending shivers up your spine as he steadies himself.
The trailing of his fingers on your nap as he fasten your necklace once more.
The flirtatious teasing and glances from across the breakfast table.
One night, after getting ready to go out with your friends, decked out in makeup and one tight dress, he snaps.
“Don’t go.” He states, standing in front of the doorway.
”John, don’t be an ass, I’m going out with my friends. Please move.”
“I said, don’t go.” He stands up from leaning against the door wand walked towards you like a predator tracking his prey. “I said, don’t go because I don’t want to see you with anyone else but me.”
Your mouth opens and shuts as your brain rewires itself. “What do you mean, John?” You finally finds the words as you realize you’ve backed yourself into a corner.
”I love you, y/n. i fucking love you and it hurts me to see another man touch what’s rightfully mine.” He kisses you hard, and you find yourself melting, wrapping yourself in cig smoke and whiskey as the door closes, cutting out the sound of your laughter and John’s.
——————-
I’m sorry if this sux. I’ve been dealing with a nasty head cold but i wanted to get this out for you guys. Please enjoy!!
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lowkeychenle · 3 days
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masterlist + all about me (and nct dream)
hi everyone! name change/rebrand alert ;)
prev @/lowkeyjaemle, now @/lowkeychenle :D
i'm juls (as some of you already know) and my ult group is NCT Dream! i'm chenle biased (this will never change lol) and the majority of my blog is also chenle biased lol.
i do not have a bias wrecker. chenle is safe (although jisung is my #2, which just makes sense bc chenji is a package deal okay).
i'm 22 (almost 23!) years old, and my pronouns are she/her. now that all this intro/boring stuff is out of the way, please keep reading for my updated masterlist ;)
p.s. if u are also a chenle stan, there are so many chenle fics here just for u
AY YO! MDNI >:(
text!au masterlist | smau masterlist
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So, this'll be a little different. These fics will be in order of my personal faves, so if you want a rec on where to start, try right at the top ;)
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And Then It Was (M)
After your marriage with Chenle was arranged by your parents for a company merger, things with him aren't quite like you expect. In your life full of obligations, he's determined to finally give you the ability to make your own choices. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k
Cruel Summer (M)
He wants you. Everything to do with you--your heart, your body, all while keeping your friendship. What's a man to do during a 30-day hook up to get you to stay? (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k
See My Sea (M)
You never expected your lab partner to be the captain of the basketball team...or a decent human being, but you get proved wrong twice. Despite a rocky past of your own, you find yourself falling for him faster than you thought. Maybe, with his help, you can finally find your way home and see your sea. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k
Like We Just Met (M)
Everything else about the day is completely normal when Chenle realizes he wants to marry you. It hits him like a tidal wave, and he's itching to tell you just how much he wants to love you forever. (smut/fluff) *WC>10k
SOS (M)
Road trips with Chenle are your favorite thing. Late at night, the two of you stop at a hotel, but it's not everything it seems to be. You barely have time to settle before you get a call to evacuate immediately. Beneath red neon flashing lights, you and Chenle have to try and escape the group of people hunting you down. (suspense/thriller/smut)
this is me trying (M)
Meeting Chenle was a fluke--a good one, at that, but you never expected things to escalate the way they did. But despite the whirlwind romance, you'd go back to December if you had the chance... (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k
Is It Over Now? (M) (Feat. Jisung)
Your relationship with Chenle is nothing but fight after fight. Amidst the toxicity, infidelity comes into play--except you're determined to one up him...but is it ever truly over? (angst/smut) *WC>10k
Within the Piano Keys (M)
For as long as you could remember, Chenle has been your neighbor and childhood best friend. That is, until one day he disappears without a word…or so you thought, since your mother hid all the letters he sent you. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k
Paris (M)
Pure smut on a hotel room balcony in Paris! Woo. (smut)
Sunshine (M)
You're not usually able to wake up with Chenle due to his schedules, but on the days that you can, it's certainly worth it. (smut/fluff)
Quiet Down (M)
You and Chenle visit your parents, but he just can't help himself... (smut)
You're Not Sorry
You and Chenle broke up two weeks ago. The first time he calls you at 3am, you ignore it. Then he calls again. You answer, and you go to him knowing there's nothing he could do to fix what he's broken. (angst)
The Last Straw (M)
Chenle has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. Being in love with him isn't easy, until you find out he reciprocates those feelings (thanks to Cockblocker!Jaemin). (smut/fluff/angst)
Chilled Nights, Fogged Windows (M)
After being gone for weeks, the first thing Chenle wants to do is get ice cream with you. One thing leads to another, and suddenly, you're in the backseat (oooops). (smut)
In Your Dreams (M)
What started as innocent phone sex hotline stuff (if that can ever really be innocent?), you get an offer you just can't refuse...you just have to be a little sleep deprived ;) (Chenle as Freddy Kruger Halloween thing lol)
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Irrevocably (M) Series Masterlist
You were friends with benefits with Chenle until he got a girlfriend...fast forward months later, and now they've broken up--leaving Chenle to come back to you, very much in need of a distraction. (angst/smut/fluff)
Opposites Attract [Poly!Jaemle AU] Series Masterlist
Your relationship with Jaemin started out simple--friends with benefits with zero complications...until there was one. That complication's name is Zhong Chenle, and after Jaemin agrees to expand your exclusivity deal to involve him, there's only one logical thing left to do... (smut)
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모래성 (ONE) (TWO) (THREE)
You and Mark have had a friends with benefits relationship for almost a year now. He's in love with you, addicted to you, but you don't feel the same. You're his poison. (smut/angst)
Late Nights (M)
Mark's busy schedule only gives him time to come over late at night, but it's safe to say neither of you are complaining by the time you fall asleep. (fluff/smut)
Empire State of Mind (M) (Feat. Jisung)
Life with Jisung is almost perfect. He loves you, and you love him. But when you run into your ex, Mark Lee, you realize the one thing you've been missing all along is him. (smut/angst)
Lost & Wayward Mini-Masterlist
After the worst couple weeks of your life, you finally break down in the middle of an alleyway. Jaemin hears you and comes to comfort you, and little do you know, he's about to change your life--in more ways than one. (fluff/smut/angst)
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aphroditeinthesea · 3 days
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“ he’s says i’m pretty wearing his clothes ”
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travis stoll x female!reader 🐍
travis and y/n have been best friends since the day they met, can a hoodie change that?
tw none
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
Best friends share everything. Everyone knows that. Secrets, food, probably like pens?, and clothes.
Since y/n and Travis had been friends, she had always stolen his clothes. It was just something she did. It started when she had helped him with a prank, which ended up with her camp shirt getting completely ruined. If you were wondering, the prank involved black paint and the Aphrodite cabin.
So, he let her borrow one of her camp shirts. After that, his shirts were nonstop going missing.
He would go and ask her, but when he would see her wearing his clothes, his heart did this weird flutter thing that he did not want to admit. When he tried to confront her, he just ended up saying something along the lines of, “pshdfhjgf- shirt,” before walking off, leaving y/n in a state of confusion.
He could never quite look her in the eyes when he noticed his shirt on her anyway. So, he just let her steal them. His heart too.
But on this particular day, he swore his heart stopped. He showed up to the campfire, only to find her wearing his favorite hoodie. He froze in his steps, staying a few feet behind her.
She turned around to look at him as she could feel his eyes on her, “Trav?”
He shook his head quickly, “y/n, hey.” He took his usual spot next to her although he could feel his muscles tense as their elbows touched.
“You okay?”
He nodded, “yeah, yeah, you?”
She giggled, “I’m fine. You’re the one being all,” she gestured with her hands, “you know.”
“It’s just,” he paused, looking away from her, “I didn’t realize you took that.”
She looked down at the hoodie, “oh, sorry,” she began taking it off, “were you looking for it?”
He quickly stopped her, “no! I mean- it’s fine. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded, “no- yes-,” he went silent for a minute and turned towards her once more, “it looks better on you.”
Her face turned pink and she didn’t know what to say. Now it was her turn to look away from him. She covered her cheek with her hand, which was engrossed in the oversized sleeves.
She looked at him again, “thanks.”
He grinned, “are you blushing?”
“Shut up!” She squeaked, hitting his arm.
He laughed, leaning closer to her, “are you blushing because of me?”
“You wish, Stoll.”
“I don’t have to,” he whispered, still smirking.
She looked up at him briefly. She finally took a deep breath, she grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him to her lips. She knew that best friends shared everything, secrets, food, clothes… but maybe not kisses.
When they pulled apart, his mouth was kept slightly opened, leaving him to try and catch his breath.
“I’m keeping the hoodie.”
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kentosovertime · 1 day
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𝕖𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕤𝕕𝕚𝕒𝕤𝕥; (n.) someone who only pretends to smile
𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤… when geto and gojo grow apart, resulting in their break up, gojo finds friendship and belonging with you and when geto returns he decides he wants you for himself 𝕚𝕟𝕗𝕠… 5.1k wc, final chapter!, college!au series, satosugu, geto x gojo x afab!reader, explicit content and language, includes themes of manipulation, jealousy, angst, spiteful behavior, etc. toxic friendships, emotionally constipated men, exhibitionism, voyeurism, degradation, praise, MMF threesome, unprotected sex, anal, multiple orgasms, teasing 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣… reblogs and likes are appreciated
𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 | 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 | 𝕥𝕒𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 | 𝕒𝕤𝕜 𝕓𝕠𝕩
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Geto bounces his leg impatiently, waiting for Shoko to show up as he grips his coffee mug with white knuckles, his mind racing with plans, possibilities, a way to dig all of you out of this mess. But he doesn’t know if he has the strength or bravery to move forward with it. 
Satoru’s willingness to engage in the games Geto was playing wasn’t anticipated, he thought Satoru would put up walls and withdraw like normal.
He ends up staring into the middle distance, playing over every detail of the conversation you had with him that night. 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
By the time he carried you to his bed and let you curl into his side, you were crying again. Your hiccups sound in the closed space. 
“What’s bothering you, sweetheart?” He hummed low, gently rubbing your back in slow motions to help you calm your breathing. 
“Everything.” You croak, hiding your face in his chest in shame. You let Satoru touch you like that and somehow Suguru wasn’t yelling at you and kicking you on the curb. The shame flashes hotter, remembering how needy you were from just Satoru’s fingers. 
“You gotta give me more than that.” He says with a small chuckle, attempting to lift the mood but it only makes you cry harder, your face twisting in frustrations. “Baby girl, you can talk to me. I promise I’m not going to be mad at you. Let it out.”
“I’m pissed at both of you.” His eyes widen when he realizes that he’s somehow lumped into this and it isn’t just Satoru’s treatment of you. He feels you shudder as the words start pouring from your mouth. “I’m so god damn upset that he only realized that he wanted me after he couldn’t have me. I l-love him so much and I was f-fine to just be his friend, but I f-feel taken for granted. I decided a long time ago I wasn’t going to be one of his fangirls and it turns out I’m just something for him to be selfish over.” 
“Sweetheart… He’s not-” He starts and is cut off abruptly. 
“Don’t sweetheart me.” You snap suddenly, pulling away from him as you angrily wipe the wetness from your cheek. “Don’t defend him to me. And don’t think he’s the only one I’m upset with. What are you waiting for?” 
“W-waiting for…?” He trails off in confusion, his heart lurching with the idea that he may have been pushing you away when he desperately wants to keep you around. The dread in his stomach magnifies when he sees your face drop just the tiniest bit, your eyes starting to mist over again. 
“What is this to you?” Your voice cracks as you point between the two of you. “A-am I just something to d-distract you to get over him? Am I enough to fuck but not to ask out?”
“W-what?” His eyes widen and he sits up suddenly, pulling you into his lap where he can better cup your cheeks with both hands. He tries to stay calm, willing the fear that he was repeating his mistakes with Satoru with you. “(Y/N), baby, you are incredibly important to me. I haven’t said anything b-because I thought it was obvious and I didn’t want to overwhelm you… you’ve been so on edge with Satoru.”
“And what about you and him?” You lean into his touch, seeing the genuine panic in his eyes, his focus entirely on you and your needs. How could Satoru make you think that Suguru didn’t care for you?
“The two of us are… complicated.” He swallows around a lump in his throat, unable to avoid the elephant in the room anymore. He’s been so afraid that talking to you about this would only highlight all the things wrong with him and drive you away, but now the lack of communication was doing it for him instead. “He broke my heart a-and it’s still in pieces, but it’s healing. I can’t tell you that I don’t still love him, but that doesn’t mean I’m using you to get over him. Loving you is separate from that and if you want to be my girlfriend, I’ll take it gladly.” 
“You…” You stare at him in shock, a different type of moisture misting your eyes. “You love me?”
“I do.” He insists, resting his forehead against yours. “Desperately. I didn’t expect it, but I wouldn't be begging you to move in if I didn’t.”
“A-and you don’t care about… w-what happened? Really?” You check cautiously, wanting to make sure that you were both on the same page.
“I don’t care. I promise.” He assures you softly, peppering small kisses across your face. “You’ve just ended up stuck between the mess we have with each other… and can I be honest with you too?”
You nod quickly.
“I clearly didn’t establish any expectations of exclusivity with you and… it was kind of hot.” His cheeks flame at the admission, not wanting you to take it the wrong way. “Meaning I didn’t mind seeing you like that.”
“O-Oh?” You squeak, your face going crimson to match his. “I- Um-” 
He silences your stammering with the press of lips to yours, humming in appreciation when you respond immediately.
“No expectations, sweetheart.” He assures you softly, thumbing your cheek. “I just wanted to be clear.”  
“I just… I want the two of you to be ok.” Your eyes meet his, pleading, seeing how the pain has impacted the both of them. They’re both too important to you to continue to see them suffering.  “And I don’t want to be the reason that drives you further apart, Sugu’.”
“You won’t be. I’ll figure something out.” He reaches down and picks you up by your thighs, laying your back on the covers. “Now, do you want cuddles? Or for me to help finish what he started?”
“Both?” 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Over the following weeks, Geto took his time to figure out how to approach what you had asked from him and it wasn’t easy. He watched you attempt not to be a jittery mess around Satoru. 
He knows you haven’t acted on the feelings he now knows you’re harboring, but he knows there’s going to be a breaking point. There were only so many heated stares you could dodge before he corners you somewhere again. 
He knows it's driving you up a wall and he knows from experience what being at the receiving end of that was like. When you come to him to blow off your sexual frustrations, he gladly meets those needs. He kept to himself how it heated his insides to picture you allowing Satoru to use you again, even as he teased you relentlessly for getting so hot for your best friend. 
Then there was the longing he continued to direct at Geto. It wasn’t new but it only complicated things. The mess had him ready to put his head through a wall and he was shocked it hadn’t descended into a fight at some point. 
He sighs into his mug absentmindedly and Shoko continues to level that accusing squint in his direction, willing him to spill what’s on his mind. 
“Out with it.” She demands after a moment of continued silence. 
“I’m still in love with Satoru.”
“Everyone knows that, Suguru.” She replies back plainly, examining her nails as if she’s bored. 
“But I’m obsessed with (y/n).” It’s his turn to squint at Shoko when she sighs heavily, like this is all a drag and he doesn’t need her here. Honestly, why did they go to her to moderate in the first place?
“Everyone is very aware of that.” She snorts, thinking about the amount of times over the past few months that someone in the group had caught you two together. First it was Gojo grumbling to her about seeing you making out on the couch, then Kento catching Geto bending you over the sink at some party they literally dragged him to, then there was Shoko who had the displeasure of catching you kneeling between his legs, letting him fuck your mouth. 
“Well does everyone know that Satoru cornered her in our kitchen and shoved his hands down her pants while he thought I was away at work?” He snips, happy when he sees Shoko’s face pale. “That’s what I thought. So forgive me if I need to talk this out.” 
Shoko is quiet for a long minute, mulling over the situation in her head, coming to the conclusion that Suguru likely had. 
“If you’re trying to pick, I don’t know why.” She hums thoughtfully. “We all hated when you broke up, I know there were issues but… maybe she’s what you need to balance each other out.” 
“And you think she’d be okay with it?” He chews his lip nervously, the last thing he wanted was to pressure into this type of relationship. “She said she… talks to you?” 
Shoko simply sits there, evaluating what she should tell him of what she knows. 
“She does. She… spoke with me when she was dealing with her feelings for Satoru. I still see that love when she looks at him, no matter how hard she tries to bury it. And she wouldn’t have been crying in my room about you if she didn’t feel the same. I think it's worth a try.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
If you’re trying to pick, I don’t know why.
Those words become Geto’s driving force when he sets out to make this a reality. He could have your love and fix things with Satoru like you asked of him. And the two of you? You could be selfish with him and have everything you want. Geto wasn’t sure how you’d react, but he could easily talk you into the positives and he knows you’re dying for Satoru to touch you again. 
It was Satoru that was the wild card. Would he be able to look beyond their messy past and start again with a fresh start? 
There is something within Suguru that decides that he’s going to keep this plan all to himself. He wants to capture the moment you both crack and give into this in his mind. 
It's how you are pushed to ask Satoru to join your weekly movie night, Geto insisting that they should try to normalize hanging out again. And you want that desperately. 
At the end of the day it didn’t matter what Satoru was trying to do to steal you from Suguru, you just missed him. You missed his laugh, his teasing smile, and his company. It was as simple as the fact that you were incomplete without him in your life, you don’t know how Suguru has handled all of these months without him at his side. 
Geto is pouring your favorite drinks, the first for Satoru and the third for you. After the second drink, your body has finally relaxed enough to not be skittish when Satoru joins the two of you in the kitchen, plopping down the snacks he insisted on purchasing. 
“Popcorn directly from the movie theater for the spoiled princess.” He snorts and slides the pail of popcorn down the kitchen counter before shedding his hoodie to remain in his mouth watering gray sweats and t-shirt. “Woah… slow down on the drinks and let me catch up! You ate right? Suguru, tell me she actually remembered to eat.” 
You feel both of them level an assessing stare as you choke on your drink, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. 
“I had a granola bar around noon?” You supply unhelpfully and snatch your popcorn before they can take it from you. “I’m fine. The only light weight here is Sugu’ anyway.” 
He groans loudly at the teasing and wordlessly takes his drink and searches the cabinet for his own snack. 
“That’s what happens when you miss all the parties.” Satoru joins in with you, loving the opportunities that Geto drops his guard enough to be affected by teasing. “You know there was a party where (y/n) threw up all over Kento’s loafers when he went to pick her up? Ow-!”
“You said you’d never talk about that!” You yell and Satoru hisses and rubs at his arm with a heavy pout, a look of dramatic betrayal playing in his gaze as you smack him to shut him up, your embarrassment apparent. 
“Aw come on, sweetheart.” Geto chuckles and hands Satoru his own drink. “You can’t dish it and not take it back.” 
You roll your eyes and grab Suguru’s arm to tug him to the couch, settling at his side and leaning against his chest. By the time you’ve melted into his chest, clutching your popcorn happily, Satoru appears from the kitchen with his half finished drink and a grin. 
“Let me in!” He whines and nudges your popcorn out of the way, crawling along the sectional until his cheek is pressed against the top of your leg, his arms wrapped around your thigh as he uses it as a pillow. 
You freeze in place, your hands hovering in the air, tensing at the position that used to be familiar between the two of you. Geto notes your worked up form and gently rubs your hip, calming you down as much as possible, he doesn’t want you to get spooked. 
A small shiver works through you as Satoru thumbs the fabric of your pants, nuzzling into you with a content sigh. You allow him to get comfortable, getting used to the feeling of having him close again, even as he places a chaste kiss to your thigh. 
Satoru has never been able to sit through a movie and soon you and Suguru are treated to the sound of his light snoring. He subconsciously kneads at you, feeling you in his sleep as he mumbles unintelligibly as he soaks in your warmth. You grit your teeth, trying to concentrate on the movie as your center throbs. 
Why the fuck do you still want him so badly? It was like you never came down from the orgasm he almost pulled out of you.
“Why so horny, sweetheart?” Geto grins into your ear with a coo, enjoying how you don’t even realize you’re squirming against him. God he bets you’re soaked.. 
“M’not…” You mumble, keeping your eyes glued to the screen where Geto can’t see your rising blush. 
“You keep trying to press your thighs together…” He points out with an amused whisper. “And your hands are twitching. Go on… He loves his hair to be pulled.” 
You’re unable to contain the shudder as his hot breath caresses your skin, his nose sensually traveling up the expanse of your neck before he kisses behind your ear.
“Geto.” You grumble sternly, dropping the use of your nickname for him, communicating your denial of his request. You weren’t going to toy with your best friend just because it got your boyfriend self admittedly hot.
“Awww.” He pouts, a mockery of Satoru’s earlier action. “I know you want to… and I want to watch you do it.” 
“Stop trying to cause more trouble.” You murmur as you turn to look over your shoulder to see his darkened gaze. A small frown graces your features as you chastise him. “You’re both terrible.”
“But I think we all need this, no?” He purrs, slowly kneading your hips in the way he knows turns you on as he kisses your neck with more force pulling soft, needy sighs from you. Geto uses the distraction to take hold of your wrists, using them to set your hands in his hair.
He watches greedily as you tentatively scratch at Satoru’s scalp, but growls low in frustration when you don’t do as he asks. You shriek as you feel Geto’s teeth sink harshly into your neck, making you jolt, your hands clenching and tugging at Satoru’s strands so hard it jolts him awake. 
The man wakes with a throaty moan, followed by a hiss when you dig into his scalp harder, your eyes fluttering shut and rolling back when he watches Geto sink his teeth deeper and reach around to grope at your breasts under your shirt. 
“‘Toru-” You whine needily for him, trying to pull him closer to stop the burning inside of you. “Please.”
He starts to move but then falters, his wide eyes flick up to where Geto is sucking purple splotches onto your skin and find the dark haired man already staring him down. Geto hums in appreciation when seeing Satoru fall back into their normal dynamic, submission suits him so well.
He used to obey him so easily. He wonders if he still would after everything that’s happened. 
“Go on, ‘Toru.” Geto sloppily laps at the marks he’s left on your neck, making you writhe closer to your best friend. “Our baby girl needs you, too.”
He follows Geto’s command without hesitation, righting himself as he rises from your lap and immediately reaching to toss your shirt across the room. 
“Fuck-” He groans in appreciation, seeing Geto palm your bare breast, your bra no where in sight. He falls forward, bracing his palm on the couch by Geto’s head as his mouth engulfs your other nipple, circling his tongue in time with his grip on your thigh.
“Stop teasing.” You plead, the heat in your body rising rapidly with the feeling of two sets of hands on your skin.  
“You’re going to deny him his fun?” Geto coos, stopping his administration on your tit so slide a hand down your center, deftly pushing past the hem of your leggings and panties with practiced ease. “Let him savor you and I’ll take care of this needy cunt.” 
“I could do that instead.” Satoru muses before switching to your neglected breast, using his free hands to grapple with your pants, working them down your legs so Geto can work you with greater freedom. He moans loudly when he’s finally met with the sight of your bare center, you’re so lewd laid out naked like this while they were both fully clothed.
“I don’t think so, ‘Toru.” Geto reprimands him before he can get any ideas, he’s not the one in charge right now. “Let her watch you strip while I get her ready for you. She’ll need it for how big you are.” 
You feel Geto shift, but continue his hand’s descent until he’s drawing lazy circles around your clit. He settles you in between his spread legs, the hardened length of his cock pressing hotly into your back as he slaps your legs apart, widening them to give Satoru an unhindered view when he sinks three fingers into your dripping center. 
You arch into Suguru, your eyes crossing as you feel the stretch followed by the rhythmic thrusting in and out of your tight walls. 
Your eyes fly open at a sharp tug of your hair only to be greeted to the sight of Satoru’s chiseled chest as he drops his t-shirt to the floor, followed up by his sweats, leaving him in only his briefs which outline a truly impressive boner.
“See something you like?” He smirks when Geto takes the opportunity to tease your sweet spot so you can’t even stammer out an answer with how quickly your high is building. “Maybe your boyfriend will let me eat your pretty pussy, angel. You look like you need my mouth to make it all better, hm?”
“Please make it better. I want you t-to make m-me c-cum finally.” You croak out squirming on Geto’s fingers when they suddenly still. 
“What? My fingers aren’t good enough for you anymore?” He teases with a grin, revealing in how you choke and sniffle, a stray tear of frustration at losing the stimulation escaping the corner of your eye. 
“Baby. Y-you know they a-are-” You stammer, your hips bucking to try to fuck yourself onto them. 
“Then you can cum for me instead.” His voice is commanding and absolute as he bullies them back inside of you, not stopping, even when your walls flutter around his digits, and even when you scramble to force his hand away, pushing at his wrist in a panic. 
“Stop!” You sob, feeling everything build without snapping, the frantic press of his fingers and Satoru’s heated gaze too much for your body to handle. “I’m g-gonna-” 
Satoru watches with rapt fascination, forcing your legs to stay apart as your body tenses and your back forms the perfect arch as you soak Geto’s wrist, more wetness joining the rest as he pulls every ounce of your orgasm out of your forcefully. 
“Good baby.” Geto coos, down at you while you tremble, small hiccups flying from you at the slightest stimulation. “So good I’m gonna let him be the one to fuck you. Maybe he’ll be a good boy for me after so long and I’ll let him pump you full of his cum. I know how wild it makes you feel as it drips out of you. Tell ‘Toru how much you want it.”
He wretches your face to the side, gripping your cheeks meanly so you’re staring at Satoru who, at some point, lost his briefs and was palming the length of his cock, unable to handle the lack of stimulation any longer. 
“What are you waiting for?” He smirks at how helpless you look in his exes grip, slowing the pace of his hand. Smirking when you shake your head just slightly. “Come on now… you weren’t so shy when you were begging to cum on my fingers. Let him hear how badly you want his ex, angel.” 
“Please, ‘Toru.” You cry out, your eyes watering at how badly you want him. “I w-want you so badly. Please-” 
“Sugu’, move out of the way.” He grumbles low, the couch dipping below the weight of his knees he settles between your spread leg, hooking his arms around your thighs to tug you down the couch towards him. 
Your breath hitches at the ease in which he moves you, you cheeks flaming when he presses your thighs towards your chest to get a full look at you, the tip of his cock hovering over you before it trails through your folds to smear the wetness that Geto forced from you. 
In a fit of frustration, you claw at his hip and attempt to reach for him, managing to grasp his length and pump it firmly before a second set of hands close around your wrists, forcing them off of him. 
“Sugu’ let me-” Your needy whine transitions to a loud moan as his hands press your wrists to the couch cushion above your head. “Let me go!” 
“You’re in the way of me watching him bully his cock into you, sweetheart.” He tuts at you like you’re an immature child, his eyes greedily taking in the sight of you spread open for Satoru, the sight even better than he imagined. He brings his eyes back to your hazy, misty ones, his cock twitching in his pants when you continue to struggle. “Besides he’s bigger than me and I know how you are. You’ll squirm around until the stretch makes you go limp.” 
“I don’t c-care. I wanna touch hi- oh my fuck-!” A scream rips from your throat when Satoru takes the opportunity of your distraction to shove his cock into you in one swift motion, meeting resistance as he forces his considerable length to bottom out, slamming against your cervix. 
“H-how are you still so fucking tight?” He groans and rears back to shove himself into you even harder, forcing your walls to accommodate him. “Sugu’ not fuck you good enough, angel?”
“He- fuck- he f-fucks me just f-fine-” You manage to squeak out as your hips try to squirm away only to be pinned in place when he completely manages to place you in a press, making you feel him all the way in your throat. 
“Not good enough?” Geto raises an eyebrow, his tone firm and domineering as he puppeteers Satoru with practiced ease. “Keep holding her down. I’ll be back.”
You start to panic as he stands and disappears into his room, leaving you alone with Satoru who’s using the time to shoot you a feral grin, suddenly speeding up, clapping the skin of his hips against yours. 
“All alone, angel.” He coos down at you, thriving at how you attempt to claw at him now that your hands are free but are unable to with the position he has you folded into. “Always knew you’d end up screaming on my cock. Who knew Sugu’ would stop being such a selfish prude with you.” 
“Shit-” You erupt in shudders, feeling yourself teeter at the edge again, sobbing in desperation to see how it feels to cum around him. “Fuck, ‘Toru- Harder please!” 
Your vision goes white when his thrusts turn bruising, and don’t stop, even as you try desperately to find yourself in the cloudiness of your mind. 
“Come on, angel. You can give me more than that.” Satoru’s face breaks into a feral grin, watching your skin ripple with each snap of his hips. Geto was right, you really do go limp when you’re dicked down properly. “Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect for me, angel. You take my cock so good, baby.” 
You’re barely able to register when Geto returns, tossing something on the couch, too busy being fucked within an inch of unconsciousness by a pussy drunk Satoru. When Geto kneels on the floor next to where your body is prone, it jolts you, making your cunt squeeze harshly down on Satoru’s length, pulling a hiss from the man. 
“Sweetheart…” He coos low in your ear, learning forward to whisper in your ear so only you can hear. Goosebumps run down your body at the heat that courses through you. “Can I fuck Satoru while he fucks you?”  
He was proud of you for stepping forward with Satoru, but that doesn’t mean you were ok with Geto fucking anyone but you. He hums in appreciation as your misty eyes flick to his face in shock before a particularly brutal snap of Satoru’s hips combined with the mental image of Geto dominating the man
“Oh god!” You thrash wildly, your chest heaving in the attempts to suck down breaths while you cum again.Your pleas bleed together in a string of sobs. “Pleasepleaseplease-” 
“Tsk tsk, angel. I’m not done y-” Satoru starts, thinking you’re begging him to stop, but he’s been waiting for you for months, he’s not about to let this end now. His hips stutter when Geto stands suddenly and pushes his bottoms to the floor before grabbing what he threw behind Satoru. “W-What are you-? Ah!” 
You’re crushed beneath the weight of your best friend as Geto kneels behind him and grips the back of his neck, shoving him forward and holding him there. 
“God, you look so much better bent over.” Geto praises hotly, using the lube he snatched with one hand, fisting it along the length of his cock before smearing it between Satoru’s cheeks. “Fucking missed this..”
Satoru’s breath shudders out of him at the first press of Geto’s cock to his back entrance before he pushes himself in steadily, not stopping to give him time to adjust as he bottoms out and grabs his hip, keeping Satoru’s head forced down as he snaps his hips forward. 
“Sugu’” He whines needily, doing a complete change from the cocky, domineering man who was pulling orgasm after orgasm out of. His body relaxes, allowing himself to be forced to lay on top of you as Geto makes himself at home inside of him, panting hotly into the crook of your neck, needily pawing at your hips as an anchor.
“Gonna use you to make her cum, ‘Toru.” Geto gives a deep groan, the vibration rolling through the three of you as he allows Satoru to rock back against him, pushing back into his ass to jolt him forward, his twitching cock leaving against your cervix. “You’re a good toy for us, baby. Such a good boy.” 
You clench at the whimper that comes from Satoru, another orgasm rapidly approaching. Geto, ever attentive, reaches around Satoru to search for your clit, locating it with ease. 
“You’re doing amazing, sweetheart.” He grunts in between his pants, urging Satoru to hit the spot inside of you that makes you see stars. “Give us one more, love.” 
“F-fuck I’m gonna cum in you, angel.” Satoru’s head burrows into your neck with a guttural groan, biting into your skin, his hands groping at every inch of your skin, trapped between his two favorite feelings in the world; the stretch Suguru was giving him and the searing warmth of your cunt. 
With Satoru’s lips on your skin, your mouth falls open with a silent scream as your body tenses in on itself and snaps. The clamping of your walls around him, sucking him deeper spurs him to shove as deep as possible before allowing himself to empty himself into you with a satisfied shiver, barely holding himself up to not crush you as Geto finally starts fucking into him in earnest. 
“Gonna beg for it like you used to, ‘Toru?” He grins at his laborious breathing and your overstimulated, high pitched whines. “Come on. Put us all out of our misery.” 
“Please, Sugu’” He pants, his voice cracking before he licks his chapped lips. “Please g-give it to me. S’been too long, please.”
“Who’s fault is that?” Geto growls and grits his teeth, willing his orgasm to hold until he can pull this out of the two of you. “Doesn’t have to be like this. Come back to me, be with us.” 
“P-please, Satoru… w-want us to all be okay.” You cup Satoru’s cheeks as overstimulate tears soak your cheek, seeing everything that Suguru has done for the three of you. 
“Fuck-” He lurches, his hips spasming as he empties into you for the second time, his cock spurting into you uncontrollably and control his answer. “Yes. I want you b-both-” 
You slam your lips to Satoru’s, swallowing his moans when Geto slams into one last time, filling his ass with his cum. Slowly, Satoru’s breathing returns to normal as your tongues twirl each other’s lazily, only interrupted when Geto pulls Satoru’s head back, tangling his hands in his hair to give him a kiss filled with longing, passion, and all the unstated love he’s held back since their split. 
Being able to see them both in the way they should be with each other fills your heart with warmth, knowing it can only get better for you all from here.
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tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @severelytalentless @silversslut @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @rafzaha @chososhoney @littlemochi @bebechinas99 @saoney @pelicanpizza @damncakie @katgalle @honeyyjems @tsukikoxo @kibananya @reine-son @wallflower010 @tobaccosunbxrst @whereismysane [[[ if your blog name is crossed out i couldn't tag you]]
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mariinaworld · 2 days
Text
It was supposed to be her Part.2
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Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader
Warning: fluff/angst
WC: +1,4
(English is not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes)
A/n: Sorry this took a long time to come out😩
Summary: You realize you can't get married, not while you're still in love with your ex, Natasha Romanoff.
Masterlist Part.1
Don't you know how long you've been sitting at your kitchen counter, an hour? No, maybe two. To say that meeting with Natasha didn't move you would be a lie.
You can't stop thinking about the redhead, every moment, the kisses, the heated nights full of desires. Desires that were thrown away by her. She didn't care about her feelings when it was over with everything, so why do you feel so uncomfortable with your words that night?
Maybe it's because you wanted to say that you still loved her, that you still thought about her every time you were with your fiancé. That you still wanted her and damn, you get real.
You can't get married. Not with him.
Ryan has always been a caring man, he has always been respectful and kind, maybe something about him made you settle into stable love, but you don't love him, not like you love Natasha.
Canceling a wedding with just three days left seems crazy, but his story with the redhead has never been relatively normal.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a soft knock on your door, for a second you imagine Natasha on the other side, waiting for you, but your expectations are broken by the voice of the only person that you didn't want to find now.
Ryan.
“Baby? Please open the door, I know you're home." Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath you know you need to face it, Ryan is a good man and doesn't deserve to be with someone who loves someone else.
You take heavy steps towards the door, just wanting time to stop.When you open the door you look at him determined to put an end to it, Ryan deserved more and you couldn't give him that.
When he moves forward to give you a kiss you instantly turn your face away, he frowns, clearly confused, again he moves forward wanting to enter your apartment But again you stop him, there's no point in dragging this out, you don't want to give him any ray of hope, no matter how much it hurts you, you need to make him understand that there's no going back.
“What happened darling?" He asks, clearly upset and all you can do is hang your head, your eyes are burning and all you want is to cry.
“I can't go on with this" you say, still with your head down, a few lonely tears coming out of your eyes. "What?" Ryan asks confused.
“I said I can't go on with this. I can't go on with you" you say finally raising your head and looking at him. “Why?" That's all he asks I can see his disappointed look and I feel worse knowing it's because of me. "I don't love you, you deserve more than someone who doesn't love you.” You say trying to sound sure of your words but the tears falling down your cheeks don't help.
He just shakes his head, his eyes full of tears, something inside him always knew that you didn't love him, but he needed to clear up a doubt. "There's someone, right?" You look at him with pity and after a few seconds you shake your head positively, you don't trust your voice to say anything else.
And with that Ryan leaves you alone at that door, the weight of everything hits you again, there will be no wedding, you lost a great friend and everything for Natasha, but everything was always for her.
You enter your apartment again, planning to cry for the next three days and drown in the consequences of your terrible life decisions.
As planned, you spent three days regretting your life and your bad decisions, Wanda even came wanting to help you and make you cheer up but she couldn't.
Now you're sitting on your bed, with a tub of ice cream on your lap watching La La Land in a sweatshirt that's too big for you, but it was Natasha's so that's what you needed to wear.
You've often thought about calling the redhead, saying you're not going to get married and giving her another chance, but you've always been a coward, you just hope that fate will somehow resolve this for you.
You hear a knock on the front door and you ignore it thinking that if it's Wanda she'll probably open it herself, but the knocking started to get more frantic and you could kill Wanda for making you interrupt your movie.
You walk to the front door wearing shorts that are too small for you and a sweatshirt that Natasha left behind.
“Wanda, can't you open the door by yourself?" You say, opening the door and coming face to face with someone who wasn't the witch.
Natasha.
You are speechless, the redhead is standing in front of you with her chest rising and falling frantically as if she had run here, she looked beautiful, with black pants, a leather jacket, her hair tied into a braid, she looked as beautiful as the first time you two saw each other.
Before you could say anything the redhead immediately grabs you in a hug, she wraps her arms around your waist and hides her face in the crook of your neck, everything she does leaves you completely unresponsive, until you wrap your arms around her trying to give her some comfort, you could never deny her that. After a few minutes Natasha decides to speak
“You can't marry him, I know I'm the one who ended everything and I can't ask that of you, but I still love you and I can make you happy" You freeze, you didn't expect that, You broke up with Ryan for her and now you can't say anything?
The words disappear from your mouth and every second of silence kills Natasha's hopes, she came to you with one hope, that you still love her and give her another chance, That saying in the coffee shop made her realize that there was no way she would see you marrying someone else, it would kill her inside and she would have to fight for you, for your love again
And that's why she came to your door, a last attempt to make you give up everything for her, it may be a selfish desire on her part but she can't help it, nothing in your relationship with her it was normal.
Natasha realizes that maybe your silence is already an answer, that you are really going to get married and she was too late. Natasha slowly frees herself from you, already accepting defeat. Until you finally react and do the one thing you've been thinking about since you ran into her at the coffee shop.
A kiss.
You quickly grab the redhead's face and kisses you, a kiss full of longing and all the unspoken feelings for you. It takes Natasha a few seconds to return the kiss and when she does, it's as if the entire universe stops around you. Natasha deepens the kiss, running her tongue along your lower lip asking for passage, and all you do is melt in her arms like you did on so many nights of love with her.
When air became necessary, Natasha breaks the kiss but her hands are still wrapped around you, you don't say anything, you just look at each other and start laughing, there was nothing so funny, but something how familiar the kiss was, as if you had only been two hours without seeing each other and everything seemed as if nothing had happened between the two of you.
“I think I ruined your wedding" Natasha says still laughing at you. You just shake your head and put your hands on the back of the redhead's head, playing with her hair, the familiarity of it all making you let out a weak laugh.
“She's already ruined, I'm not getting married Nat, that night made me realize that all this wouldn't make sense if it weren't for you, I could never marry someone other than you." You say, feeling Natasha becoming more and more emotional
“I shouldn't have left that night without telling you I loved you, I let you go and now you could be married to someone else, I wouldn't stand for that Detka.” The redhead says hugging you again
“Let's try again Nat, no lies, let's make it work this time ok?" Natasha immediately shakes her head, she would do anything for you.
“I love you Detka, I don't want to lose you again." Natasha says looking into her eyes and you can see she is about to cry.
“You'll never lose me Nat, it's always been you.”
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wintaerbaer · 23 hours
Text
things we don't say: part 6 (TEASER) (kth)
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banner credit: @itaeewon
summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.
pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)
rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)
genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slooooow burn, angst, fluff
word count: 1.2k
teaser warnings: a very sad boy, references to sexual situations, brief mentions of child abuse, vomiting, someone has a wet dream, guilt, shame, a haircut
a/n: sincerest apologies that this series has gone so long without an update. i was struggling with some aggressive writer's block these past few months, but i think we're back in business! <3
PREVIOUS // SERIES MASTERLIST
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To say he falls into a state of depression may be an understatement.
He barely eats, barely sleeps, and while Taehyung has always considered you to be the center of his universe—his entire being oriented to you like a star—you’ve begun to haunt him in ways that you never have before. Reminders of you creeping into every minute of his days.
It’s passing your favorite ramen place on his way home from a photoshoot. Or finding a can of your favorite sparkling water buried in the back of his fridge. Or flipping past the cooking show you used to watch together or stumbling upon one of your sweatshirts in his closet or the fact that he still has that damn photo of you hanging up behind his desk.
You’re everywhere—your being so deeply ingrained into his life that he couldn’t erase you even if he wanted to.
And he certainly doesn’t want to erase you; he’s too selfish for that. Even now, even after he’s fucked up to catastrophic degrees by forcing his feelings on you, he still can’t bear to face you directly. Because he knows it would be the end of him for you to reject and abandon him too, even if he can’t blame you for it.
It keeps him up at night, thinking about what he could’ve done differently. How he somehow lost his handle on the control which he has always internally prided himself on (sans a drunken conversation with Namjoon last year where he spilled his guts as was met with a lack of surprise on his friend’s part). He’s always promised himself that he would never burden you, that his love for you was not your responsibility but something for him to manage on his own.
And yet, with you sitting so close on the hotel bed—looking absolutely beautiful in your simple PJs even after he spent the day with you all dressed up—his defenses had crumbled the second you pressed into his side and asked him the final question of your fateful game.
How could he not kiss you then? How could he not give you what you asked of him when he wouldn’t hesitate to lay down his very life if you required it?
But still, he spends hours each night staring at the white expanse of his ceiling wishing he had held back like he always did. Years spent training himself to resist the way his blood calls out for you reduced to naught the second he got his first taste of your lips. And now you likely hate him.
And as if it’s not enough for his brain to put him through this nightly torture, the guilt eating him alive, when he finally does manage to scrounge up a few hours of sleep, there’s the matter of the dreams.
He revisits the hotel room every night. Can taste you again, hear your moans, feel your mouth on him and your warm skin underneath his hands as his mind drags him back through every minute detail on a loop. It’s agony, having to both wrangle with the knowledge of how it felt to be with you as well as face his sins every time he closes his eyes. Realize just how badly he fucked up when he wakes to once again find the other half of his bed empty.
Because in spite of him spending years convincing himself that you were never meant to be, there’s still a small part of Taehyung’s subconscious that’s always carved out space for you in his life. It’s the part that stocks your favorite drinks in his fridge, keeps that photo of you pinned behind his computer, leaves a side of the bed open for you because he became so damn accustomed to sleeping next to you in high school.
He’d found that the bruises from his father didn’t hurt as much when you were sitting next to him making him laugh in your bedroom. That his brain would quiet enough from the terrors to allow him to sleep if you were there lying next to him. That he didn’t feel the dull pain, only the gentle touches of your fingers, as you carefully applied makeup onto the dark patches of skin before school.
It had been easy, then, to dedicate himself to providing you with the same support and care you had shown him in any way he could. To wish for your happiness above all else—his guardian angel through and through.
At least, that is, until he lost control in that hotel room.
One night, after a particularly vivid dream involving your body under his, he awakes to sheets that are soaked around his middle. He blanches at the evidence of his body’s desire for you even now, the horror at the audacity of his unconscious mind causing bile to churn and rise in his throat.
He bolts for the bathroom, barely making it there before he empties the contents of his stomach into the toilet. His body shakes as he retches above the porcelain, guilt rattling his bones until he can hardly keep himself upright.
When the waves of nausea stop, when he can finally pull himself up to lean his elbows against the sink, he stares hard at the mirror and man he sees there.
He looks haggard, dark splotches sitting under his eyes and hair hanging limp around his face and over his forehead. The pale skin of his cheeks and lips is surely due, in part, to the vomiting, but there’s no denying that he’s a shell of his former self. A ghost just going through the motions of a past life.
And it’s there, peering through the darkness at his own reflection, that Taehyung decides he hates himself.
He’s not sure if it’s the raw disgust or the unrelenting shame that has him reaching for the hair clippers, but as his sable tresses begin to fall in chunks over the bathroom counter and floor, Taehyung thinks he deserves this.
He deserves the torment of his dreams. That disturbing combination of his wildest fantasies and nightmares rolled into one.
He deserves to wake up alone. To be reminded of his transgressions at the break of each day.
And he deserves to lose you.
Hell, he never deserved to have you.
The silence that follows the buzz of the trimmer seems at odds with the roaring in his head. Still, he manages to scoop the mess of hair into the trash before dragging himself back to the tangle of his sheets.
He finds himself right back in that cursed hotel room.
When he shuffles into the living room the next morning, still fighting the lingering tastes of bile and your lips, Jungkook and Jimin are already awake at the kitchen bar drinking coffee. They freeze at the sight of him; the pastry that Jimin was halfway to putting in his mouth hits the ground with a thud as Jungkook lets out a low whistle and simply shakes his head.
“That bad, huh?”
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a/n: may or may not go back and revise this again for the final draft. in the meantime, a reminder that my ask box is always open! <3
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dalekofchaos · 3 days
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Context for choices 1, 2 and 9
My little au on if Aang never left
For my Zuko/Azula as prodigies. Basically they are both naturally gifted Firebenders. Zuko faces Ozai in combat, but Zuko faces Ozai. As Ozai is about to finish Zuko, Zuko hits Ozai with white flame and then Ozai declares Zuko the victory and he gains his father's respect. Eventually Zuko and Azula are at a sibling rivalry, trying to outdo each other and even trying to kill each other for their father's approval and to win the throne. Ozai puts their ambitions to the test. Whomever captures Ba Sing Sei, Northern Water Tribes and the Avatar first becomes Ozai's successor.
This video better explains it
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Asami as Amon
Asami witnessed the brutal murder of her mother, but it wouldn't be by just any benders. It would be the Red Lotus Society.
Zaheer planned to finish the job, but Toph came to the rescue.
the spirits would take pity on Asami and gift her energy bending and Asami would use her father's wealth to master Chi-Blocking and use their wealth to fund and arm the Equalists.
Amon or in this case Asami wins at the end of Book 1. Tarrlok is still captured by Amon, when Korra sees him and they chat, he tells the whole story of Amon as it happened in the show to her and everything. Like it goes in the show. Korra and friends go to confront Amon at the arena where Tenzin and his family are about to lose their bending. But they don’t because she gets there in time. She accuses Amon of being a bender, as per Tarrlok’s story. Amon doesn’t unmask. And he isn’t a bender. Tarrlok lied to get Korra to confront Amon so that he could capture her and he could hopefully save his own skin for the service at least. They fight. Amon takes Korra’s bending in a big demonstrative way. So all the crowd can see what comes to any benders, especially The Avatar who stand against him. Then the reveal happens. Asami is Amon.
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Art by nikoniko_808
In order to get her bending back and learn how to give others their bending back (yeah, Korra wouldn’t get it back at the end of Book 1 because consequences? What’re those?), Korra has to go on a quest to learn her bending(her masters would be Toph, Katara, Izumi and Tenzin) in the Spirit World to understand everything. Korra does not cry about loosing her bending because she realized she’s still The Avatar and has to go to The Spirit World to get her bending back, to help everyone get their bending back and stop Asami
Throughout the series, we would meet Kya, Bumi, Izumi, Eska, Desna(Eska and Desna would be Korra’s siblings in this universe, because fuck Unaloq) Opal and Kai. We have the same romance between Bolin and Opal and Jinora and Kai. We would also meet Varrick and Zhu Li, because they are comedy gold. They would all help in the fight against Amon and the Equalists.
In Korra's venture to the Spirit World,
she would still see Wan’s story(because that’s the only thing I liked about Book 2) and I think in her journey in the spirit world she would see Asami’s story, in which her family were victims of the Red Lotus society and Asami learned to take bending away in the spirit world. Not only that, we would find out that Asami would be bonded with Vaatu. Asami is the darker Avatar.
Before she leaves The Spirit World she connects with all her past lives to ask what she should do about Asami. Korra has her Aang moment where she has too has to decide what to do like he did with the fire lord, only this time there's more to it than just stopping the bad guy. It’s about the person she loved. She can restore everyone’s bending by reversing Amon’s convergence, but she can't do that so long as the avatar spirit is split. And as long as Asami is part avatar, she can go into the avatar state. That's still pretty damn dangerous even with only water and blood bending. Korra realizes the only thing she can do to stop Asami? Love her.
After her journey to relearn her bending and journey in the spirit world, Korra travels the world to gain allies. From the Fire Nation, Earth Kingdom, Water Tribes and Air Nomads. Korra unites the world against Amon and the Equalists.
In the final fight, Korra defeats Amon. She exorcises Vaatu from Asami, thus ending the dark Avatar and stopping Amon’s convergence. She reverses what Asami has done and uses it to restore everyone’s bending. So she has to come to the hard part. Amon makes it clear, no matter what, even without the ability to energy bend or without Vaatu, Amon will never stop, Benders will never be safe. Korra shows Asami what she was denied. Korra loves her and forgives her. Asami gives up and accepts whatever punishment.
During Book 3, Asami would work with Korra in stopping and killing the Red Lotus society. However, when Zaheer is stopped. He is left at the mercy of Asami and for everything he’s done and turned her into. Asami kills him.
Book 4 happens. Asami's redemption is rebuilding Republic City and using Future Industries to repair the damage she's done as Amon. Blah blah blah Korra stops Kubira blah blah. Asami earns her redemption and the love of the krew and more importantly Korra. Ends with Korra and Asami venturing in the Spirit World and ends with a kiss.
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