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#i feel like we are never seeing them again
elusivemoon · 2 days
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⋆˙⟢ YEARNING OBSERVING YEARNING.
satoru has been gone for three months thus far and you're at the end of your rope with missing him.
f!reader ⊹ no curses, idol au ⊹ fluff. angst with a happy ending. established/long-distance relationship ⊹ 5.2k ⊹ satoru is a wildly successful/famous idol. footnote. a thing i was gonna toss forever but did this with instead.
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you know that this is his dream, but the loneliness you’re constantly left to face is becoming genuinely unbearable. long distance dynamics are not at all for the faint of heart. there are days when the video calls are all you long for, seeing his adorable face filling up the screen and smiling at you quite lovingly. then, there are days like today when, for a brief, fleeting moment, you consider breaking things off with the love of your life ꒰ and one of the most famous men in the world ꒱, gojo satoru.
it starts with the fact that your friend gets married and you have to go to the wedding all alone because you don’t have a date. your date is busy traveling the world, entertaining the masses, making women everywhere fawn and fall head over heels in love with him. the entirety of the event, you feel out of place with no one to dance with who isn’t a very seedy family member of the wedding party or a friend of yours who came with their own date and can’t act as your stand-in. so you opt to sit at a table alone, drinking your weight in roscato, staring at an open text thread because satoru read your message telling him how hard this was getting for you eleven hours prior but never responds. it hurts. it’s the fact that you nearly always end up doing things like this alone. times and events where you would, can, or should bring a plus one and yours is actually able to attend with you is seldom. rarities. so painfully sporadic. it’s too hard doing the thing of being in love without being able to do the things of being in love. date nights out on the town? forget it, unless he takes you on an impromptu trip out of the country that’s so unplanned there’s no chance of you both being bombarded by the general public. paris is gorgeous. rome is phenomenal. america is a dizziness of diversity. but who wants to constantly have to pack up to take a thirteen-hour flight or longer for a three-hour date? it’s unnecessarily inconvenient. having a shoulder to cry on? not practical for his schedule. not practical for all the time zones that pack so tightly between you both that his mornings become your late evenings. his downtime is the peak of your busyness. you can only seem to synchronize free time in passing. nothing too long. nothing solid. nothing consistent. nothing secure. nothing remotely reassuring. for you, the foundation of the relationship is crumbling. satoru travels the world with his friends, endlessly doted on by his adoring fans, seeing new sights and forging new moments to reminisce fondly over in the future. but you? you’re stuck at home, stuck at your job that you hate so much and don’t even need but have anyway because working a job you hate is somehow still better than sitting at home with little yuuji and missing the boisterous laughter of your lover strolling through the house for months on end. agonizing ghosts of him singing frank sinatra in the hallway because he ‘loves the acoustics right there’ taunting and haunting you, not comforting in the least. everything is starting to always hurt.
12:22 am. you: i know you’re probably busy, but when you get time, we really, really need to talk about us.
teary-eyed and pouting, you stumble into your bedroom, a little yuuji trotting beside you as you drop your removed heels right at the entry of the bedroom door before slipping into the closet to undress. satoru hates when you do it, leave your shoes lying about, but once again, he’s not here to gripe at you about it or even to ask you to pick them back up. the house is always so empty and eerily quiet these days. everything always is. the house. the other side of the line when you do manage to get in touch with him. your heart. your willingness. the hope that keeps you in this for three years already. it’s all emptied out and vacant.
you just keep thinking about how this isn’t how you want to spend your life: not having a date to events with your friends, only sleeping next to him for a quarter of the year in total, getting by on facetime calls and those two-week periods that he’s allowed to be completely free, coping with still having to share him in that time, and worst of all, getting left on read to a text telling him how hard this is becoming. it’s becoming too much for you, and you know you need to tell him now or you’ll stay by his side, buried under the weight of your resentment. despite his routine absence, he doesn’t deserve that. satoru’s a wonderful man. the kindest one. the most earnest. the strongest. the most innocent. satoru is a good man — a good man who deserves the truth about where missing him is forcing you to stand. you text him again, the need to talk to him becoming borderline desperate.
12:26 am. you: i haven’t heard your voice in two days. i haven’t heard from you at all today. please. can you step away and call me for just a minute? 12:31 am. satoru: really busy right now baby. i was gonna text back as soon as we were done here. m’sorry. been on the move all day. we’ll talk soon i promise. i know you’re having a hard time. i’m trying to get done asap so we can talk. please don’t give up on me.
the last part of his text sends your tears spilling over your waterline. you find yourself sitting down on the floor of the closet in the beautiful gown he paid hundreds for just so you can attend a wedding alone. just so you can be spoken for but live like you’re not because you always get left on your own. you don’t want to give up on him. you don’t want to throw away a whole three years of building even this small, fragment of a life together, but this…this is agonizing. you’re miserable. not with him, but with the distance between you whose presence feels more permanent and more familiar than satoru’s.
12:34 am. you: i’m lonely, satoru. i miss you. i’m not handling all of this well right now. i’m having doubts. serious doubts. i just…we really have to talk, okay? i need you to make time for us to do that tonight. 12:40 am. satoru: baby…angel…are you about to leave me? because i won’t accept it. i won’t agree to you leaving me.
what does he mean he won’t accept it? you aren’t aware that you both can simply protest or completely disregard the verbs the other wans to perform that you don’t like, and why does he get to do so when he’s already left you?
12:41 am. satoru: you know you’re my angel, right? my everything? i love you so fucking much. i know the distance sucks right now, but we’ve gone longer, yeah? it’s been worse but we’ve made it every time, baby. please don’t leave. not like this. give me time. 12:45 am. you: time? is three years not enough? what am i supposed to do? i’m tired of crying every single day. all day. all because i can’t see you. i haven’t spoken to you. you stopped telling me good morning everyday weeks ago so i don’t even wake up to your affection. i can’t get you to answer your phone. i’m just here. taking care of the house and yuuji while you live your greatest life without me by your side. you don’t even need me.
that was the last text he was willing to exchange before he calls you. when you refuse to answer, he calls again. and again. and again.
1:18 am. satoru: answer the phone baby. let’s talk about this okay? love you so much. please pick up.
your stomach flips and you curse yourself because you’re in the starting stages of initiating the end of an era but you’re getting butterflies because he calls you baby, because he says he loves you, because he more than loves you. how can you confidently leave a man who can be thousands of miles away yet still make you feel like this? you’re uncertain if you’re ready for right now and what’s likely to occur or follow. because you say the words and you realize upon sending them that you aren’t angry. you aren’t yelling at him. you’re just stating the truth. you mean it. he doesn’t need you.
the truth is you’re not a priority for him right now because you can’t be. you accepted it for all this time, but thinking about marriage and real life together, you don’t know if you want to build a future with a man who cannot prioritize building a future with you. this much is on you, on your indulgent heart who wanted to kow the taste of his adoration despite knowing the obstacles that come in tow. you met him at a time when he was in the dead center of building a future for himself, and because of his job, you don’t have the luxury of being part of it. his company is vehemently against publicizing your relationship, especially now, especially when everything is so fragile and uncertain in the coming years, especially when satoru is just started inching towards his peak. the craziest part of it all is that neither of you wants to ‘publicize it’ with intention, but you want to go places together, like normal adults who’re dating, and if you guys are seen together then…oh well? but they’re against a single soul knowing you even exist in his world. they’re against you ever being seen at events, behind the scenes, anywhere during his tours. you have to stay at home, out of sight, out of the media, out of his management’s way of making him a star. to them, the rumors are bad enough. mitigating the media on the possibility satoru is dating openly is a headache to deal with let alone an actual, sustained relationship they’d likely have to keep mitigating the media over? it’s nothing personal for management, just business. what future would you guys be able to have like this?
1:23 am. satoru: i’m begging you please answer the phone. please talk to me. don’t give up on us. i miss you too baby. so let’s talk. answer the phone and spend time with me.
so when your phone rings again, ‘mister gojo 🐻’ in big, bold letters on the screen looking like his final plea, you sigh and answer morosely. sniffling, you greet him. “hey,” “angel…angel, you’re killing me.” a deep, shaky sigh. “baby, what's going on in your head right now? fuck. leaving me? us?” the background is quite noisy and his volume is muffled by the array of sounds behind him: the indistinct chatter of all the others lingering wherever he is, a series of beeping and automated speech over an intercom, the sounds of scraping and rolling and static. it’s so distracting, but he calls you even though it’s horrendously inconvenient. you know it’s because you present a very serious, critical concern in your relationship that he seems to not have been expecting. he says immediately, his voice cracking. “i’m sorry i haven’t talked to you, angel. i am. i couldn’t.”   it breaks your heart to hear him sound so wounded by your words, but it’s how you’re feeling about it all. you wipe at your eyes. “i’m in my head because that’s the only place to be. i spend 85% of my time at home entertaining myself when i’m not working. everyone has things to do that don’t include me, and that’s…that’s fine, but feeling lonely when you’re not even alone is torture.” “we’re supposed to be upfront about stuff like this, not let it get so bad that you're ready to go.” you hear him sniffle on the other side.
it doesn’t anger you, but it is frustrating. you’ve been trying to get in contact with him and talk about the difficulties you’re facing with his absence for days, but it’s either interviews or rehearsals, performances or photoshoots. there’s never even little slivers of time for you. even when he’s getting hair and makeup done, the stylists say he’s too distracted and it’s making applying his makeup harder. his members hate when he tries to talk while they’re all shuffled together traveling. and management gives not even a speckle of a fuck about him having time for you every day. there’s never any time to talk about it. you scoff. “i’ve been trying to for the last few days. you’re always too busy. you don’t text me back. you don’t pick up the phone anymore, baby.” you present the last part as a quiet sorrow. there’s no frustration behind it, only the part of you who’s desperately trying to keep your relationship intact despite all the distance that’s constantly forged between your yearning bodies, and failing.
“you’re supposed to tell me before, baby. like along the way. before it gets so overwhelming that you’re ready to leave me and throw away my entire heart when i’m literally trying to get home to you. before all of that.” you cover your mouth to hold back the sound of your own cries, forcing sniffles and tiny hiccups in the place of moaning and wailing. your vision becomes blurry and fills up with shimmering tears, because satoru is very openly, very audibly crying — small sobs and whimpers between his speech. “who said i don’t need you? who said that?” he asks, voice broken and fearful. “if i didn’t need you, i wouldn’t cry like a fucking baby at night because you’re not with me. i feel sick inside missing you. wishing you were here with me. wishing i could give you a normal fucking relationship, but i’m not in a normal position. you knew that. i told you. i begged you not to give up on me if you were agreeing to do this with me. you said forever and now you’re trying to take it back? no. i don’t accept that. i won’t. so what do i need to do to keep you? what will it take?” “satoru…please…” “no. there’s no please. tell me what i need to do to keep you. because honestly, angel, you’re ripping my fucking heart to shreds right now. we have to figure this out. there’s no way in hell i’m letting you walk away from us.” he sniffs, weak cries still flowing into the phone, painting every crevice of your heart in a shade of aching. “there’s no walking away from us, baby. okay?” your lower lip trembles, overwhelmed by his determination to keep you. maybe you’re wrong about not being a priority. “i’m sorry, satoru. i just…this has been so fucking hard. and then i went to the wedding all on my own. again. and everyone just keeps asking why you never show up with me anywhere. again. it just…it got to me really bad this time. it’s so hard. being completely and utterly taken but having to live practically single because your partner can’t be there. i miss you, satoru. i’m lonely.” “baby, i understand. i get it. i feel that way, too, you know?” his voice is soft, warm even, trying to maintain a sense of calmness, compassion, and love. “it’s hard for me, too.” “is it?” you question very seriously. “because every time i see clips of you from your shows on ig or tiktok, you look like you’re having the time of your life. smiling from ear to ear. being surrounded by so much love that it doesn’t seem to matter to have mine.” he squeaks but then goes silent. you hear the opening of a door and the harsh closing behind it, all the background noise falling completely silent. you hear that he’s still crying at the softest volume he can manage. when he speaks, his voice is softly appalled, brittle, threatening to crumble at any moment.
“how can you say that? how can you suggest you’re the only one in this having a brutal fucking time without the love of their life? because i smile for cameras and for my fans? because i want the people who paid hundreds of dollars just to see me to feel like they got the best version of me so they don’t feel disappointed? you’re taking that and measuring it to missing you? as if i don’t periodically call you in tears from how badly i wanna be with you? as if i don’t tell you how much i love touring but it’s a goddamn depressing time for my personal life because it means leaving my little family behind. you and yuuji. how can you say that? you can’t be here with me. i’m all yours and stuck being far away for so long. you don’t get to come to company banquets or award ceremonies to be there for me, with me. when i win anythig, i have to get on stage and fight back my fucking tears because the one person i want to see looking back at me and thank for believing in me can’t be there with me. it kills me. it fucking destroys me inside. don’t tell me it’s not hard for me.”
upon hearing his words, there’s now a thick blanket of guilt covering the top of your sadness, feeling more like it’s suffocating you. you haven’t thought of it that way, from his perspective, haven’t even considered the amount of events he attends alone. he’s with his friends and members, sure, but times and events where he would, can, or should bring a plus one and his is actually able to attend is…never. for you, his presence is seldom. it’s rare, but it is. whereas with him, your attendance is entirely nonexistent. not because you want it that way. not for a lack of trying on your part. “i…you’re right…i can’t say that. it’s not fair.” you admit quietly, voice low and lightly ashamed of the words you say and his experience you disregard. “i’m sorry for saying that to you, satoru.” “let’s just get through this, okay? no apologies. i just want to keep you, and i can’t get off this phone until i know i am.” he sniffles hard. “i love you, angel. you know that, right? you know you’re not in this alone, yeah? we’re in it together.” tears still silently flowing, you respond tenderly. “i know you love me, satoru. i love you, too. but…are you even happy like this? don’t you want more than this?” “what more is there to want? i have exactly what i want and exactly what i need. and both of those things are you. of course, i wish you could be there and be here with me, but i know you’re supporting me no matter what. it pushes me to do my best every time. getting to see you after is the highlight of those evenings. skipping after parties to come crawl into bed with you is my favorite pastime.” you don’t say anything iat first. you just wonder where to even go from here. he says breaking up isn’t an option. he says he’s going to stay on the phone until he knows he’s keeping you. he says he’s fine with things as they are, even if they hurt you both, because he has you, and it’s worth the sacrifice. you feel the same way; you do. and maybe for a split second, you just forget, become too jaded by the heaviness of feeling like you’ve been isolated and abandoned. but you recall quite vividly that you told him after the first year together that there’s no separating for you both. only forever and working it out. no forfeiting, only fighting tooth and nail to make it work. “what do i need to do, baby?” he asks, much softer, much more loving. “how can i keep you by my side?” the kaleidoscope of butterflies swarm you. the way it feels, it’s like your heart is free falling, diving to find him and be drowned in all his devotion. “i…i..” you sigh, shaky and defeated. “nothing…nothing at all, satoru. i’m here. i’m sorry. i’m sorry for all of this.” “just needing me?” he asks, his voice small and raspy, teeming with all of his longing. “because…i’m just needing you, too. and it hurts a lot.” although he can’t see, you nod in agreement. it does hurt a lot, a whole fucking lot. your quivering lip and tear-filled eyes can attest to that much. “yeah,” your fragile voice falls as a whisper. “m’just needing you so bad. and it hurts that you’re not here.” “m’on my way, okay? i’ll be home soon.” he promises. “just wait for me. give me a little more time. please, angel. just hold out a little longer for me.” “yeah…okay…okay. i’ll hold out.” you promise. “i miss you.” a sniffle and a declaration. “we won’t have to miss each other for much longer.” in the background, you hear him returning to all the noise. inwardly, you sigh. there’s always something distracting, always something in the way of you both being able to submerge into your time together fully. you both just got over a small hurdle that threatened to end in you leaving this house and the life you made with him inside of it. “it’s so fucking loud in here.” he grumbles. you hum, agreeing. “where are you even?” “airport,” he answers calmly. “connecting flight.”
when he says it, you aren’t sure why it makes you start to cry all over again. maybe because you know it means he’s still gone. he’s still so far away, and he’s not coming home soon. he still has more work to do, more promises to his fans to fulfill, and more time he owes them all. he’s on a connecting flight and probably didn’t anticipate having this conversation right now. he probably planned to be asleep, but he ends up reconciling having to go to their next show utterly heartbroken. “off to your next stop?” you ask, sniffling and continuing to wipe your tears. “yeah…yeah i am. my last one, actually.” he says. “my last flight for a very fucking long time, i hope.” this makes you smile, him talking about coming home, him talking about anything other than being gone for longer than the three months he’s already been. “where’s your last stop?” he chuckles. “i suppose we’ll find out soon enough.” “what? is it like some secret show they didn’t tell you guys about?” you ask him, confused by his response. he hums his uncertainty. “that’s fucking weird.” “yeah, a bit. but, baby…are we good?” he asks timidly. “you’re still mine?” you look down at your knees curled up to your chest, dejection filling up your existence, because you know as soon as you give him the answer he wants, he’ll be off, leaving you on your own again. still, you murmur, “yeah…yeah, i’m still yours.” “good,” he breathes. “no takebacks.” you giggle. “okay,” “promise?” “yeah, baby, i promise.” he sighs his relief. “you had me freaking out, baby. you had me fucking losing it. the thought of you leaving? coming home but it’s not to you? just yuuji and the house we picked together? all our pictures on the wall? i was gonna have a meltdown.” “i’m sorry.” in the closet still, you stand to your feet, finally finding the energy to get up and change into clothes you can sleep in. that’s all you want to do now: go to sleep so you can stop thinking about all of this, so you can have a few hours where missing him isn’t plaguing your existence and stealing the air in lungs, a few hours where his absence isn’t like a chisel to an ice block on your resolve. “no apologies.” his gentle reminder. “no walking away.” your soft agreemet. “i know, baby.” “only loving bear forever.” he added. “only staying by his side.” you nodded, a smile reshaping your lips that sunk into a melancholic pout. “only loving bear forever. and staying by bear’s side.” “i love you, angel. i have to go, but get some rest. it’s late there. and i just know you left your shoes in the doorway. please pick them up. it’s so unsanitary and yuuji is already a little vacuum for random particles.” much to your surprise, you laugh. “how could you possibly know that?” “because you’re my honey and i know you.” you roll your eyes at him, still smiling fondly, heart bursting with reminders of why it’s him. why you chose him, why you were willing to do the hard part for all this time, why there’s no walking away, why there’s only loving him forever and staying by his side. “of course a bear would be quite familiar with his honey.” you note, nodding as you undress. “you get some rest, too. i love you so much.” “you better love me back.” he grumbled. “goodnight, angel. i love you, too. so, so much.” when the call ends, you find yourself crestfallen, succumbing to all the waves of indubitable despondency. here you are, alone again. ending your night alone again, laying on his side of the bed that doesn’t even smell like him anymore because he’s been a ghost to the egyptian cotton for months, alone again. you change into a big shirt, one of his, because if you can’t have him then you’ll cling to all of the belongings he leaves behind.
you find yourself observing the whole room as you saunter to your overly-sized and overwhelmingly empty bed. there’s pictures everywhere along the walls, all of memories you both have made in the last three years, all a display of the fondness that’s accumulated between you both in all this time, a quilt of attachment you both weave in love together.
he’s right, truly, there’s no walking away. not when every thread of your lives is tangled and stitched together, not when those tangles and stitches are the very seams of who you both are: part of each other. you lay in bed filled with regret about what’s happened, because even though he seems happy that he isn’t losing you, you worry he would start to have doubts of his own now that you’d basically threatened to leave him. does that mean it’ll be on the table for him in the future? when you fall asleep that night, weepy and emotional, a dark cloud of impending doom looming over your head, you wonder why he can’t be there. why can’t you both be together without anything or anyone in the way? the next morning, you wake up groaning because yuuji’s zooming through the house, barking at the top of his baby lungs and you’ve had enough already. how can a creature that hardly weighs 10lbs emit such sounds and project them so loudly? you pull another pillow over your face to drown out the sound. there’s no way it isn’t incredibly early, so yuuji’s behavior is quite honestly disrespectful. “yuu, please.” you whine, pulling blankets over your head. “let mommy sleep.” what alarms you then is the shuffling in the hallway you hear and you spring up, heart racing in your chest thinking that someone’s gotten in and that’s why yuuji’s having a conniption. unsure of what to do, because you have neither weapons nor burglar-combat strength, you decide to crouch down beside the bed, contemplating whether or not you should go ahead and try to wedge yourself underneath it. you aren’t expecting anyone. satoru is god knows where. the only other people with a key are his two best friends outside of his members and parents, but all of those people call before showing up. yuuji’s barking turns into whining, and the voice that coos his name sends your heart clambering up into your throat. “aww, did you miss daddy?” satoru coos in the hallway right outside the bedroom door. “i missed you, too, bud. let’s go see if your mom missed me as much as she says she does.” upon hearing his voice, realizing it’s him and he’s home, you rise to your feet so fast, you nearly fall right back down to the floor. you squeak trying to catch your steps. when you look up, your favorite boy is standing in the doorway to your bedroom, looking at you with a lazy grin spanninng his lips, a huge duffle on his shoulders that he drops immediately upon seeing you. of course, your sobbing and blubbering is instantaneous. “you’re home?” you ask, lips set into a deep pout. “really home?” he nods, ardent eyes melting at the sight of you. “angel, get over here.” and you do. you go around the bed carefully because you have a horrible habit of running into things and you shoot straight for his arms that are wide open and waiting, ready to receive you urgently and without hesitation, scooping you up while your legs wrap around him and your arms go around his shoulders. he’s home. he’s home. he’s home. “why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, so angry and so grateful at the same time. “oh my god, i almost broke up with you on your way fucking home?” the sob you release makes him chuckle, becoming teary-eyed himself.
“i missed you so fucking much. i knew i was coming home early to surprise you. i almost spoiled every-fucking-thing when you tried to leave me.” he told you, hot tears spilling out his eyes. “i didn’t answer for all that time because i was on a twelve-hour flight, baby. we literally had landed to catch our connect. i…baby, i got so scared i was about to come home to an empty house. i got your texts and my fucking heart dropped.” now, he’s moving you both toward your bed. you cradle his cheeks in the palms of your hands, apologetic eyes peering at him. when his eyes meet yours again, you both pause, realizing your irises are merely reflections of the other’s, yearning observing yearning. 
“you have two seconds to kiss me before i devour you.” he warns. “hurry, your bear is ready to hibernate.” “bear doesn’t want a taste of honey beforehand?” you ask seductively. giggling, you close the distance between your mouths, elation and eagerness being traded between breaths. this is truly all you want, all you cried on the closet floor for — a kiss and a halcyon sigh, two arms around you, and sinking into the future you both promised. he grins, a shake of the head, “when bear wakes up, it’ll be spring, and he’s going to eat his fill of honey then.”
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bth3cowboi · 2 days
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love conjeture! lh44 x reader
pairing: lewis hamilton x mathematician!reader
summary: sometimes algorithms win championships, other times they help find love. (social media au)
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mercedesamgf1
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mercedesamgf1 This year we want to give a special thank-you to Dr. Yn Ln! With the creation of her new algorithm focused on data analysis and her extensive collaboration this season our view in analytics evolved to unimaginable levels. We are forever grateful for her contributions and what they mean for the future of Formula 1. Thanks again Dr. Ln, and good luck with the thesis! 😎💻
tagged yninmath;
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yninmath thank you for the opportunity🫡💙 it was an honor to work alongside this great team
mercedesamgf1 👏💙
user1 omg work girlll!!
user2 just googled her and im going crazy like how do you have 3 phds at 27😭?
user3 graduated super early too shes kind of a genius lol
lewishamilton thank you miss yn💙
yninmath your welcome sir champion🥹
user4 ok this is cuteee
user5 you should be thanking him bffr
georgerussell63 Outstanding!🙌 Make sure to come back Dr. Yn
yninmath oh but the travelling😮‍💨
lewishamilton nah you’ll make it back
yninmath if you say so haha
yninmath
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yninmath currently picking up trash couches, writing thesis and remembering the friends ive made along the way 🤓💘
on a serious note, if anyone is interested in reading about topology feel free to read my new paper abt it (link in bio #influencer)
tagged bestfriend, roscoelovescoco;
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roscoelovescoco working’s hard🐾😵‍💫
yninmath or hardly working🤔
bestfriend surprised the couch didnt bring rats or something
yninmath no rats or fleas!!! its been a great couch #trashcouch #luckygirls
bestfriend please never use # again
user1 great paper dr yn😍 is there any way I could get your paper on the hodge conjeture for academical porpouses? magazines are too expensive, help a girl out🙏
yninmath dm me girl that should be free so make sure your class gets it too
user2 dr yn youre saving the nyu maths class of 25’🫡
lewishamilton no rest on break miss yn?
yninmath you know me already haha💞
user3 suspicious…
user4 what? they cant be just friends?
user5 I thought she worked for merecedes, what is this?
user6 she was only there to develop part of her thesis tho still won them another championship
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f1paddockgossip
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f1paddockgossip BREAKING! Lewis Hamilton was caught while vacationing in France with mathematician and Mercedes’ collaborator Dr. Yn Ln. The pair are rumored to be in a months-long relationship already, starting in the middle of last season.
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user1 NOOOOO
user2 isnt she like way younger than him? weird
user3 shes literally a grown woman lol she can be with whoever she pleases
user4 no cause they actually look really cute🥹 so happy for them
user5 right! she seems super nice
user6 i just know that man is confused everytime she talks numbers lmao the curse of dating a stem girlie
lewishamilton
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lewishamilton congrats on the finished thesis miss yn😉💙 love you
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yninmath love u and ty for the championship😘 would have failed otherwise
lewishamilton 😂😂
lewishamilton anything for my girl
yninmath 🥹
yninmath
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yninmath you best believe he sat on the #trashcouch #dearlordwhenigettoheaven
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bestfriend did it have fleas lewishamilton?
lewishamilton no but I was worried
yninmath booo tomatoes
bestfriend just buy a new one please
yninmath i believe in sustentability🫡🍃
lewishamilton there has to be a limit
lewishamilton ❤️❤️
yninmath love you sm
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——
a/n: ty for reading and i hope you enjoyed🩷 maybe ill be writing more for different drivers soon, so if anyone is interesed keep that in mind!
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ao3commentoftheday · 2 days
Text
I’m thinking about perfectionism again, specifically with respect to how it can skew your opinion of success and failure.
There’s this concept that comes up a lot when you read about issues like perfectionism: all-or-nothing thinking. It’s a trap that’s easy to fall into.
If you’re a fic writer falling into this trap, you might feel like you’re an absolute failure if your fic isn’t a 100% accurate depiction of the scene you see in your head with flawless grammar and zero typos. That is a, quite literally, impossible standard to meet and as a result of never meeting it, you probably feel one or more of the following:
lack of motivation
certainty that there’s no point in even trying
self-hatred or some other form of intense dissatisfaction with yourself and/or your skills
This is a completely logical way to feel in that mindset, by the way. Your standard for success is so high that you’re constantly a failure. If your standard for success is impossible to meet, then there is no point in trying. If there’s no point in trying, how could you possibly feel motivated?
In order to move away from those feelings, you need to move away from that all-or-nothing, black & white mindset.
One way to do this is by figuring out a new standard for success that actually can be achieved. For example, give yourself permission to have occasional typos in your stories. Gaiman’s Law states that an author will always find a typo the first time they open their published book. If even Neil himself has resigned himself to this fate, then hopefully you can too. If you managed to write your story then that’s a success and finding a typo after you’re done doesn’t turn that success into a failure.
Another thing that’s helped me is to think of every failure or mistake or dissatisfying result as a learning opportunity. If I’m not able to do something now, that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to do it at some point in the future. I just need to keep trying. Practice makes better. Practice also helps you figure out the things that are easy for you and the bits that are hard and where you might need some help - either from a fellow fan or from another kind of resource.
I think part of the reason why people can get so anxious about their fanworks is because we care so much about them. We love the characters. We love the world. We want to do them justice in our writing, and we want other fans to love our creations too.
It’s important to remember that all of us love imperfect things all the time. It’s not perfection that makes a thing lovable. It’s the heart that’s put into it.
There’s a lot of fear behind perfectionism. Fear of being caught doing something wrong. Fear of being shamed for a mistake. Fear that imperfection makes us unworthy or unlovable. Fear that a single flaw will ruin an entire work. Fear of failure.
If you want to be able to move through that fear, you need to be able to reduce it somehow. The most effective way that I’ve found is to stop writing with the goal of posting something online. Write for the sake of writing, without the pressure of showing it to someone else. That might help you to get out a first draft (or second or third) without that worry about being judged and found wanting.
If you’re not ready for positive self-talk or reframing the internal narrative (I get it. Been there.) then allowing yourself to be less than perfect in a place where no one else can see you might be a good first step.
And just because I think it’s important that you hear it from time to time: you are a wonderful, creative, amazing human being - mistakes included.
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gallusrostromegalus · 20 hours
Note
You can lay blame for this second ask at @hoifne 's feet, I saw their comment on the post and had to:
How did folks react to the moon landing?
"You're ready? No Big Regrets?" Renji asks. He always asks. He'd done hundreds of Konso rituals now that he was doing his mandatory tour of duty in the living world, but he never wants them to feel 'routine', so he talks to the ghosts. Hypes them up a bit for the afterlife, tries to keep his heart in it.
Especially when it's a kid.
"Well, it's not really a big deal..." The ghost Suichi considers. He was maybe ten or eleven years old. Thick prescription glasses, face round with puppy fat, very loved. Love won't stop a freak electrical accident though. Young Suichi is handling his sudden departure really well, all things considered, so maybe love does stop despair. "-but its a bit of a shame that if there's no TV in the afterlife, I won't be able to watch the moon landing."
"Yeah, we're a bit behind the times, but I'm sure one of the mad geniuses in the 12th will invent one sooner than late-" Renji grins ruffling the boy's hair before the rest of the sentence registers. "-The What Landing?"
"The Moon Landing!" Suichi lights up with excitement. "They just launched the rocket yesterday! But in just three days, man will walk on the moon!"
"...The Moon?" Renji blinks, bewildered.
"Yeah!"
Renji points up over his shoulder into the sky, gripping the boy's shoulder, eyes wide. "THE MOON IN THE FUCKING SKY?"
---
The lights of the Fifth division offices reflect blankly off of Captain Aizen's glasses as he attempts to process the news. He is entirely still, save for his eyebrows which are writhing like overcaffienated caterpillars, unable to settle on an emotion to convey.
"The Moon?" Lieutenant Ichimaru squints at Renji even harder than usual, pointing up out the window behind him. "The Moon in the fucking sky?"
"Yeah!" Renji spread his hands. "I didn't believe it either but the humans have managed to work out some neat trick with the way the world turns to like, throw the spaceship like a slingshot..?" he tried to explain.
"So, so there's three guys in a boat-" Captain Aizen tried again, reaching up under his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.
"It's really more like a sealed metal tube, but they call it a Space Ship because it does sorta sail through space..." Renji tried to explain, holding up the newspaper from the living world he'd brought back to substantiate his claims and also provide helpful images to explain what was happening.
"So there's three guys in a metal tube and they... threw it into the sky so hard that instead of falling it started flying instead?" Aizen tried. "How do they even throw something that hard without Kido?"
"So the men are up in this little itty bitty bit at the top that looks like a cap on a vaccine needle-" Renji pointed at the image of the Apollo 11 rocket. "-All the rest of this is the uh. enormous amount of extremely coordinated high explosives they used to launch it. The. The whole thing is like... It's a little over three hundred fifty shaku and only 12 shaku of that is where the humans are. The rest is um. Air they smooshed so hard it became liquid and then they set that on fire and look at the picture you can see the kaboom!" Renji tried to explain, pushing the paper across Aizen's desk for his captain to read.
Aizen certainly pointed his face at the image and accompanying article, but 'read' may have been a bit beyond him at the moment.
"Oh, is that all it took?" Ichimaru hummed with interest. "Well fuck, why haven't we done that?"
"Oh yes, how very silly that the humans have beaten us at the trifling matter of FLINGING OURSELVES INTO SPACE, WHAT THE *HELL* ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ICHIMARU??" Aizen objected.
"Well like. Idea's sound. Moon goes around the earth, so a smaller thing should too. And we can absolutely make a sealed metal container and kaboom bigger than that." Gin shrugged, as though this were plainly obvious. "Betchya the clown that runs the twelfth has the stuff laying around- we got a meeting with him later today anyway, why not ask?"
"Oh sure, that's a great Idea!" Aizen beamed. "Why hello Kurotsuchi-taicho, curious news from the human world- do you think you could spare a few parts and several tons of explosives to send some guys for a stroll on the moon?"
There was a moment of silence where Renji and Gin shared an awkward glance (or at least, Renji gave meaningful look to the narrow slits where his lieutenant-commander's eyes theoretically were).
"...he'd agree to that in a heartbeat, if he hasn't started work on his own Spaceboat already." Aizen groaned.
---
"No." Grunted Mayuri.
"No? Why not?" Aizen asked, head cocked to the side like a confused spaniel.
"Look, what the old man doesn't know about budget expenditures won't hurt him!" Gin smiled encouragingly. "Think of all the scientific data you'd get to research!"
"What the old man finds out about budget expenditures after the fact can and will hurt me." Mayuri growled. "It's not cookie money, kitting an expedition to the living world to engineer a spaceship with atomic matter instead of Reishi- No, much more efficient to let the humans do it for us and poach the date from them."
"...Why would we need to go to the Living world?" Aizen blinked, confused. "I can see the moon from the window right here?" Aizen pointed out the window of Kurotsuchi's office.
"What? That moon? You can't go to that moon!" The clownish chemical engineer cackled."
Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him blankly.
"Is. Is the moon here different than the one in the living world?" Aizen asked, bewildered.
"Different? It doesn't exist!" Mayuri laughed, waving his hand at them.
Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him, then leaned back in their seats, looking out the window at the moon, which still looked as physical and present as it ever did.
"...Oh don't tell me you didn't know." Mayuri frowned, pouting. "No, spirit world doesn't have a moon. The thing up in the sky is a Tulpa- there's a "moon" because everyone who comes to spirit world thinks there should be one, and there's so much ambient spiritual energy even weak souls can exert some force on the nature of reality and when millions of them are all certain there should be a moon, a moon manifests. Or at least, a thing that looks like a moon. Doesn't act like one, changes size and skips around it's phases all the time and if it really were a round object in space, that's NOT what a crescent moon would look like."
Aizen and Ichimaru looked back out the window at the "Moon", whose crescent arced a full three quarters of the alleged satellite's circumference.
"Seriously? this is some really basic stuff." Mayuri glared at them in disappointment. "You never noticed that the moon is always visible out any random window at night, no matter what time it is? It doesn't even go east-to-west more than half the time!"
"But. But we have a lunar calendar..?" Aizen muttered, an edge of genuine distress in his voice.
"Oh yeah, the moon *used* to be regular as clockwork- everyone literally set their watches to it." Mayuri shrugged. "Then sometime about eh, two and a half, three thousand years ago? Right around the same time the first captain-class spirits started appearing, the moon started doing this 'Full Moon Thrice A Month If it Feels Like It' and 'Visible At Improbable Angles' nonsense."
Aizen's eyes were wide and Gin's very nearly open with alarm.
"That's uh- that's terrifying?" Aizen sputtered, now outright frightened.
"Yeah, anybody know what coulda caused that?" Gin muttered.
"The going theory is that the precipitation of a new class of spiritually hyperpotent souls like us has caused disproportionate tugs on the desired appearence of the the "Moon", but that's only a theory- my predecessor's predecessor once attempted to send a camera to the 'Moon' for a closer look, but it never actually *got* any closer." Mayuri explained, casually inspecting his fingernails- he seemed to be growing out the middle one for some godforsaken reason. "-Your theoretical starboat would likely far worse."
"...Okay but that's worse. You understand how that's worse, right?" Aizen demanded and Mayuri waved him off.
"No, no hit makes sense-" Gin nodded, and Aizen glared at his lieutenant. "Think about it! There's what, three and a half billion human on earth? Millions die every day, but only a couple hundred ever turn up every day at the intake queue in the 7th, and nearly everyone is from just the one part of Japan. We're one afterlife of many- ugh, could you imagine if the missionaries were sent here?- anyway, our world is nowhere NEAR as big at the Living World, so the moon-moon is just a geographical feature in the living world, and there's only a couple million people living here. We got disproportionate swing, so we pull on the collective conciousness more. It's fine!"
"That's AWFUL!" Aizen shouted, dismayed.
"I mean I think we all understand God is an Asshole, but what are you gonna do about it?" Mayuri shrugged before tapping on the crate beside his desk. "-Anyway, do you want these Polio Vaccines for the rukongai outreach program our not?"
"I- yes. Please." Aizen muttered.
"Good man, sign here." Mayuri tapped the sheet on his desk. As Aizen tried to read over the provisions release paperwork, the small "Electronic Mailer" on Mayuri's desk pinged. "Oh, the word got out- Kyoraku-taicho wants to hold another moon-viewing party for the occasion. Do me a favor and attend so you can explain to him why we can't go to our 'moon' for me? I don't want to go, and I really don't want to explain it to him through a hangover either."
"If you don't wanna go Boss I'll stand in for you. Promises to be a real riot." Gin grinned.
"Yes, you have your young friend, don't you? Miss Matsumoto?" Aizen smiled fondly at his second-in-command.
"Oh, she probably already got her invite- she an' Miss Nan- er, lieutenant Ise are real pals from the academy." Gin laughed. "Nah, I was gonna drag old blind bones along."
"...Captain Tousen?" Aizen asked, befuddled. "Whatever for?"
"Stars ain't exactly braille, y'know?" Gin explained, wiggling his fingers. "He knows even less than we do an' I wanna watch Rangiku and Kyoraku try'n 'splain the whole thing to him." Gin grinned.
"Sounds lovely! Take your shit and get out of my office." Mayuri threatened.
---
Renji exhaled, still bewildered, laying on his back on the grassy hill just outside the 2nd division training grounds, staring up at the moon as it rose opposite the sunset behind him. Or, maybe not? There had been some lecture about how the moon in spirit world wasn't a moon back at the academy that he didn't really remember-
"You sound like you're in the throes of a moral conundrum Red." Shuuhei teased, looking up from the strange contraption he was setting up.
"Huh?" Renji blinked. "Oh, no I'm just- Those guys in the Spaceship gotta be somethin' else, going to die thousands of miles from home."
"What? The Astronauts? They'll be fine! -Probably." Shuuhei laughed. "They're definitely insane, getting in that contraption at all, but they still gotta come home with all the rocks and whatever they get from the moon for the lab techs to look at."
"...How the hell are they getting back?" Renji frowned, rolling up onto his elbow to frown at his senpai. "I thought they blew up all the rocket getting off the planet?"
"They got a bitty rocket in the lunar landing craft that will get them between their ship and the lunar surface, and then they will angle the ship a bit and the moon will fling them back to earth the way earth flung them at the moon." Shuuei explained, not looking up from the weird bass-drum looking object he was messing with.
Renji opened his mouth, realized his friend probably understood it way better than he did, closed his mouth, shrugged, and changed topics. "So what is that thing you had me haul up here?"
"It's uhhh... Experimental. Haven't got a name for it yet." Shuuhei muttered, placing a level on top of it and frowning at the bubble before adjusting the legs bolted awkwardly to the side of the drum. "-But with all this excitement about the Lunar Landing, I realized Tousen-Taicho is... I mean he gets left out of a lotta stuff, y'know? But it's not like he can see the stars, or the spirit-moon, and I don't think he really understands orbital mechanics-"
"I sure fuckin' don't." Renji muttered.
"Yeah, because you're the kind of moron who put a ham sandwich in a VCR-" Shuuhei rolled his eyes.
"That was ONE TIME, and Matsumoto Senpai told me it was a Panini Press!" Renji sulked.
"-and then pressed "Fast Forward", but Tousen is actually smart as hell- I'm the one who can't explain it without gestures he can't see." Shuuhei continued. "...but I can use a camera obscura and reiryoku-sensitive film to sort of take an old exposure image of the night sky. I'm hoping that if I treat the exposed film right, that the light and dark parts will turn into different textures for him to read, like a braille sky."
"Oh." Renji muttered. "That's really nice of you actually."
"I mean, we'll see if it works." Shuuhei shugged, examining the level again. "Hand me the allen wrenches- What about your boss?"
"Captain Aizen? Uh- honestly? He seems a little freaked out by all this and I saw him fuckin' slam the newspaper into his wastebasket when he got back from the twelth." Renji winced. "He's weird like that. Sweet as cake most of the time but then there's these weird flashes of anger... and I'm not sure how much longer he's gonna be my boss."
"As in you got ambitions, or you think he's gonna get fired?" Shuuhei asked, staring at the level again.
"As in 'Tetsuzaemon Iba got in another brawl with his mother about him only being fourth seat when she made captain, and Liuetenant Madarame asked me if I'd updated my resume recently." Renji winced.
"Woof. Talk about a lateral promotion." Shuuhei winced. "Still, the pay raise would be nice. You could afford to take your girl Rukia somewhere up to her brother's standards!"
"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" Renji snapped, rolling over and jumping to his feet. "-It's -I'm sorry. It's kinda complicated." Renji sighed.
Shuuhei was silent for a minute as Renji sat back down on the grass, face in his hands. After a minute of fine-tuning the drum to keep it level, he spoke up. "You're more than good enough."
"Huh?" Renji jolted. "Oh, yeah- I'd be doing all the eleventh's paperwork but there's no way it's worse than the fucking rice subsidies accounting board-"
"That's not what I meant." Shuuhei glared.
"...I know." Renji groaned. "It's just. It's complicated, okay?"
"If you say so." Shuuhei shrugged. "Alright, hand me the flat box- thanks. It'll be ready for exposure in a minute, and I want to get it done before those clouds roll in." He gestured at the distant thunderheads threatening to bloom into a summer storm on the edge of the city.
The process was quick- the shielded plate went into the gap under the drum, and the light of the night sky was reflected onto it from a pinhole in the top. Once the metal plates were pulled back, it needed a few minutes to pick up enough light, before Shuuhei pushed the metal shutters back in and locked the plate in darkness until it could be developed.
"It's for taking pictures of the stars, right?" Renji asked as Shuuhei started disassembling the camera. "You could call that plate an Astrograph."
"Hah! Futuristic. I like it!" Shuuhei grinned. "C'mon and help me with this thing before the punishment squad turns up to kick my ass for having a camera within a mile of the second."
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Text
early chaggie days being a bit unsettling, but still pretty sweet
Vaggie: “Hey Charlie? I’m back.”
Charlie: “VAGGIE OHMYGOSH THERE YOU ARE!!!! I was worried sick! What were you doing wandering hell alone?? You’re still hurt! And new here!!”
Vaggie: “I’m fine, it’s not like I’m bleeding-”    
Charlie: “I was WORRIED! It’s been hours- your note just said ‘gone out’ it didn’t say if you’d be back!”
Vaggie: “Why would anyone leave you a note like that if they weren’t coming back?”
Charlie: “I DON’T KNOW THE NOTE DIDN’T SAY THAT EITHER!!!!”
Vaggie: “Right, sorry. I’ll make sure the next one does. I’m sorry.”
Charlie: “That’s! Not-!”
Vaggie: “I’m sorry Charlie.”
Charlie: “No no you don’t have to be sorry- going out whenever you want is fine! Dangerous, when you’ve just lost and EYE and a LOT OF BLOOD and your back is still FUCKED UP and you have a pretty face covered in bandages that I couldn’t change this morning because you left- which is fine, that’s fine it’s FINE-”
Vaggie: “You really don’t have to keep-”
Charlie: “-it’s just we NEED to get you a phone! No more ‘don’t wanna be trouble’ bullshit- this is serious! What if you’d needed help? How fuck was I supposed to even find you!?”
Vaggie: “Follow the trail of screaming people and blood?”
Charlie: “Wha- what blood?”
Vaggie: “Shit.”
Charlie: “Your blood?? Did your back- But it’s been burned shut since day one! Did someone-”
Vaggie: “Charlie-”
Charlie: “WHO-”
Vaggie: “No one did anything, okay? Look, no blood. See?”
Charlie: “….then why did you say that?”
Vaggie: “I might’ve… kinda sorta stabbed a few people who got too close. Uh. Nothing fatal. But there was some blood and screaming…”
Charlie: “They SCARED you.”
Vaggie: “No they really didn’t, it was just instinct.”
Charlie: “And this is hell, Vaggie- at least half of them were at least TRYING to scare you!”
Vaggie: “Well it worked. It was fucking scary how close I came to killing a few of them without even noticing.”
Charlie: “Vaggie…”
Vaggie: “I won’t go out again. I got what I needed, and I didn’t know you’d worry.”
Charlie: “Of course I worried…”
Vaggie: “You don’t have to. I’m just this month’s random dumbass sinner picked out of the rest of the trash and crashing on your couch, making you stress over dumb stuff. I’ll get out of your hair soon as the bandages come off.”
Charlie: “Don’t.”
Vaggie: “?”
Charlie: “Don’t, talk like that, about yourself. Please?”
Vaggie: “Like what?”
Charlie: “Like THAT.”
Vaggie: “I don’t even get what ‘that’ means. I only said what happened.”
Charlie: “I….. never mind.”
Vaggie: “Alright…”
Charlie: “…..”
Charlie: “….what did you go out for anyway?”
Vaggie: “Spear.”
Charlie: “Spear? Like, spearmint gum or- OH!!”
Vaggie: “Just uh, just a spear.”
Charlie: “But isn’t that an Exorcist’s!? Vaggie- be carful! That’s one of the ONLY things that can-”
Vaggie: “-kill a sinner permanently, yeah, I know. Or gouge out their eye. Permanently.”
Charlie: “Oh.”
Vaggie: “I’ve seen them in action, I mean.”
Charlie: “And it doesn’t upset you?”
Vaggie: “It’s, complicated. Mainly it’s just, it’s a little reassuring to hold onto, you know?”
Charlie: “My hand is- I mean, sure, yes. That makes sense. I think.”
Vaggie: “…you can lock it up somewhere if you want, while I’m here. I don’t mind. This is your home-”
Charlie: “And yours. As long as you need it.”
Vaggie: “That’s, nice but-”
Charlie: “And while you’re here you should feel safe, and if the spear helps you feel safe around me, then okay. Good. You um, you didn’t sell anything super important to get it, right?”
Vaggie: “No, I found it behind a dumpster-”
Charlie: “Wow those are really pulling through on the amazing finds lately!”
Vaggie: “Charlie- huh?”
Charlie: “Good find! At the dumpster!”
Vaggie: “Charlie, it’s not for you. The spear. I didn’t get the spear because of you.”
Charlie: “I mean hell princess and stuff, first hellborn monster in all creation- totally understandable!”
Vaggie: “If you’re a monster then creation needs more of them.”
Charlie: “The carpet is still smoldering from me going all demon flames at you five minutes ago.”
Vaggie: (chuckling) “Yeah, because you were worried.”
Charlie: “Still. Scary?”
Vaggie: “Adorable.”
Charlie: “….really?”
Vaggie: “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, because you care, and you get angry when the rest of the world doesn’t care as much as you do. It’s really.” (pause) “It’s new. It’s really new, and I’m glad I got to see it.”
Charlie: “If you’re sure…”
Vaggie: “Yep. The horns and tail are cute, too.”
Charlie: “The- aww SHOOT! They’re still out? This whole time??”
Vaggie: “You didn’t notice grabbing my wrist with your tail?”
Charlie: “I WHAT??? IM SORRY OH FUCK OH SHIT IT- IT HAS A MIND OF IT’S OWN I SWEAR- FUCK WHY WON’t IT LET GO-”
Vaggie: “It’s fine. If it wants to cling then let it. I’d like to sit down though, so.”
Charlie: “Right! Sorry!”
Vaggie: “Charlie it’s fine.” (sigh) “Feels like we’ve used that word too much today.”
Charlie: “Ugh you’re right, sorry…”
Vaggie: “And that one too. Stop.”
Charlie: “Fine.”
Vaggie: “….”
Charlie: “….sorry?”
Vaggie: “….”
Vaggie: “…you’re lucky you’re cute.”
Charlie: “And YOU’RE lucky you’re tiny and fit on the couch. There’s an actual bed here! In case you forgot since the last time I told you! Now, sit kitchen?”
Vaggie: “Actually I was thinking sit couch and I’m not taking your bed.”
Charlie: “Did you remember to eat anything while out poking rude hell people with your new spear?”
Vaggie: “S- sure I, uh, I did. Do that.”
Charlie: “Uh-huh.”
Vaggie: “Yes.”
Charlie: “Mmhmm.”
Vaggie: “…I did do it.”
Charlie: “Bzzt, lies. To the snackies we go!”
Vaggie: “But-”
Charlie: “And I’m getting you in that bed eventually. It’s gonna happen. Couches can’t be good for your back, even when you’re so small! Especially when you’re hurt!”
Vaggie: “Charlie, if I was in your bed you’d never get any SLEEP.”
Charlie: “Why not? I like being around you!”
Vaggie: “I move around too much at night.”
Charlie: “Bad dreams?”
Vaggie: “…sure.”
Charlie: “Well maybe not being alone when you wake up would help? That’s what Razzle and Dazzle do for me sometimes- right guys?”
Razzle: “Baa!”
Dazzle: “Mreh.”
Vaggie: “Hi fellas… What… what happened to your kitchen.”
Charlie: “I asked them to get snacks ready!”
Vaggie: “It’s a warzone.”
Charlie: “It’s snack time?”
Vaggie: “There’s enough doughnuts here to feed a whole battalion after a battle.”
Charlie: “Well since you weren’t here to ASK I couldn’t TELL them what KIND of doughnut would be your FAVORITE.”
Razzle & Dazzle: “Ree!”
Charlie: “So we had to make all the kinds. But only this one time, okay guys?”
Razzle & Dazzle: “Grrr….”
Vaggie: (smiles) “Thought you said you weren’t even sure I’d be back.”
Charlie: “I wasn’t. You’re the first sinner who’s ever crashed on my couch, so I just, hoped.”
Vaggie: “…..”
Vaggie: “Thanks. For the hope.”
Charlie: “You’re welcome. Really, literally, you’re welcome. Couch or wherever.”
Vaggie: “……or buried under a mountain of pastries?”
Charlie: “Finding your favorite kind is IMPORTANT okay!”
Vaggie: “There’s dough splatters on the ceiling.”
Charlie: “You’re worth a few dough splatters and an artfully singed carpet. You’d also be worth some lost sleep. Now! Staring with the basic, a classic plain glaze….” (busily dives into doughnut infogump)
Vaggie: “….”
Dazzle: “Rrr?” (hands her a tissue)
Vaggie: “...huh? Oh.” (takes tissue) “Thanks….” (dabs at her eye while Charlie isn’t looking)
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lightblue07 · 2 days
Text
Insecure |OP81
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Oscar Piastri x Norris! Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Oscar knew that his girlfriend is wonderful... he didn't know that other drivers thought the same. feeling insecure should not be part of your relationship
MASTERLIST
A/n: English is not my first language!! (You can send writing ideas if you have any)
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Oscar walked through the Paddock looking for his girlfriend.  The day of practice was already over and they had agreed to go to dinner.  He carried her purse in his hands, having collected all of her belongings that she had left in the garage.
His girlfriend, always sociable and friendly with everyone, took forever to say goodbye, even if they would see each other again the next day.
He found her surrounded by some drivers. Max, Carlos and Charles were talking animatedly with her.  Oscar knew that they were as tired as he felt, but he also knew that Y/n was so mesmerizing that she would trap anyone in a conversation.
He approached slowly, not wanting to interrupt her, but knowing that they had to leave sooner rather than later if they wanted to get to the restaurant.
He stood next to her and she turned her head to smile at him with the brightest smile she had. he immediately felt y/n's hand intertwining with his.
"Are you ready to go?"
"Yes," she nodded and then seemed to remember something. "Wait, I didn't say goodbye to Lando, I'll be right back."
She let go of his hand, gave each driver a kiss before running towards the McLaren garage, waving off some journalists she had known for years.
"At this rate we will never leave" Oscar mocked and Carlos laughed next to him.
"Well, you managed to date the most sociable girl in the world"
"I know"
"You got lucky with her" Max commented after losing sight of her and joked "if we had known that the new guy would take the big prize, we would have sabotaged your arrival."
The other two pilots laughed and Oscar did too, but without understanding what he meant.
"what do you mean?"
Charles let out a small laugh "come on, as if you didn't know we all have a little bit of a crush on y/n."
"You are?"  He frowned
Carlos cleared his throat. "I mean, maybe... a little. But, mate, we would never do anything. She loves you and we respect her. Both of us."
Oscar saw y/n in the distance walking next to Pierre and they were both laughing.
Now, what he had always believed were kind and friendly glances, he realized were more.  Much more
"See you tomorrow." He said goodbye and walked quickly towards his girlfriend. The drivers looked at each other with regret.
"We screwed up"
"Yes, I think we did," Max confirmed.
Oscar couldn't think of anything other than knowing that everyone liked his girlfriend.
Not that he could blame them, she was one of the most wonderful people he had ever met in his life, he shouldn't be surprised that many noticed it too.
He felt strange, a feeling of insecurity settled deep in his chest and mind.
He always knew that he wasn't the best candidate to be her boyfriend.  A boyfriend like the one she deserved.  It was one of the reasons he had been so reluctant to date her in the first place.
Since he knew her, knew how different they were.  Where he was calm, she was a complete hurricane; Always going from one place to another, talking to everyone. 
And then there was him, who liked the tranquility, the silence.  He had friends, of course, and he really enjoyed their company and especially of his beautiful girlfriend, but sometimes being alone was very comforting for his brain.
And yet, she persisted with him. 
He was grateful that she had done it, but the doubt was killing him.
Did she know that she had more options than him?  What could she have whoever she wanted, if she wanted it that way?
Oscar wasn't as funny as Carlos, or as handsome as Charles.  He didn't even win as many races as Max.
It didn't make sense for Y/n, being so wonderful, to date someone like him.
And that thought was killing him.
He arrived at the garage the next day, at night he had not slept as much as he would have liked.  Dinner the night before had turned out quite awkward.
Y/n had felt bad, believing that she had done something wrong to make Oscar calmer than normal.  But she knew that had done nothing more than be the way that always was. She had decided to stay in her hotel room for the day to give him some space.
"Where is my sister?"  Lando approached Oscar to greet him
"She decided to stay at the hotel for today" he answered, put down the notebook he was reading "can I ask you a question?"
"sure"
"did you know that some people here like y/n?"
Lando nodded "well, yeah."  He looked at Oscar "It's been a lifetime, she has something that attracts people... and it's not her bond with me" he saw the frown of his partner and understood "You didn't know that?"
"No, I mean, yeah," he sighed tiredly, "it doesn't matter."
"I've never seen her as in love as is with you," Lando commented, patting his on the shoulder. "Don't worry."
"I am not worried"
"Well, tell to your face then. See you later"
"bye"
Oscar pulled out his cell phone when it rang, it was y/n.  he answered on the third ring
"Hey"
"hey babe" her voice was as sweet as always "I wanted to wish you luck today in qualifying"
Oscar smiled unconsciously "thank you" he made a silence and spoke again "I think I'll be a little late today, but we can order something from the room service if you want"
"I would love to, I'm sure we can find something that fits your diet"
"Yes, surely you will order the biggest hamburger you can find"
"You know me darling" he heard the soft laughter from the other side "see you in a couple of hours"
"Yes take care"
"always, I love you" y/n waited carefully for the response.
Oscar swallowed, and whispered "I love you too"
When she hung up, she stared at the phone for a second and then put it aside, laying down on the bed and staring at the ceiling.  Oscar had been acting strange since the day before and it was making her nervous.
Did he not love her anymore?  Was he doubting her relationship?  Was he finally getting tired of her and her personality overflowing from her? 
God, he hoped not, because she would be devastated if Oscar broke up with her.
Charles, Carlos and Max watched carefully as Oscar spoke to Logan from a distance.
"He's frowning," Leclerc commented to his teammates.
"maybe he's just concentrating on what they're talking about" Carlos said
"he seems a little angry" Max continued "If y/n finds out that we made her boyfriend mad, do you think she'll be mad at us?"
The Ferrari boys spoke at the same time
"Yes"
Max nodded "let's hope she doesn't find out then, y/n being angry isn't something I like to see...or face"
Oscar was listening to Logan speak, but without really listening to him.  His mind was completely out of whack and the Williams driver noticed it, in addition to his bad mood.
"Are you okay, mate?"
"yes, I'm sorry"
"don't worry, I understand. y/n didn't come today."
"why do you assume it's because of y/n?"
"Well, she keeps things pretty fun around here. I guess we all noticed when she didn't come to the Paddock."
Oscar let out a humorless laugh "I guess so, apparently everyone does" and added nonsensically, standing up a little straighter "She's my girlfriend."
Logan frowned in confusion and laughed a little without understanding "I know, everyone knows."
"right" he nodded without changing his posture, gathering his things "I have to go, my girlfriend is waiting for me. See you tomorrow"
"Sure. Tell her I hope to see her tomorrow, see you"
On the way back to the hotel, his bad mood settled on the road. When he got to his room he sighed before opening the door.
The room was empty.  He left the things on the desk
"love, is you?" he hear her voice from the bathroom.
"Yes," he answered, approaching the door, "can I come in?"
"of course"
Oscar opened the door to find her in the bathtub, surrounded by foam, her hair tied up, and she looked at him with a smile.
"How did it go?"
"P5, better than previous practices" he leaned against the door frame "how was your day?"
"Quiet, I went to the hotel gym and then to the spa. It was relaxing"
"I'm glad your day was good" he tried to smile "I'll go see what's on the hotel menu."
He was about to turn around to pick up the phone when she stopped him.
"Wait, you're not going to kiss me?"
"Yes, I'm sorry" Oscar cursed himself internally as he approached her and placed a soft kiss on her lips and got up from her before she could deepen the kiss "I'll order you a hamburger and fries."
Y/n frowned as she watched him leave her. she stood up from the bathtub and grabbed a towel to wrap it around her.
She found him talking on the phone and ordering food.  She waited for him to finish speaking so as not to interrupt him.
"You're going to catch a cold if you don't change quickly," he told her when he found her standing in the bathroom door.
"Are you going to break up with me?"
"What?"
"Are you going to break up with me?"  She repeated it slowly, separating the words
"No, why would I?"
"Since yesterday you've been acting strange, at dinner you barely spoke, then you don't want to kiss me and you talk as if you don't want to talk to me. If you need a little space..."
"Hey, hey, stop. I don't need space, I'm sorry for acting like that. I think I'm just tired from practice."
"and now you're lying to me" y/n shook her head and grabbed some clothes to go back to the bathroom to change.
When she came out, Oscar was sitting on the bed, with his hands on his face, looking stressed.  She tried not to pity him, after all he was the one who was lying and acting strange with her.
She was thinking about taking her things and going to Lando. Y/n knew her brother wouldn't mind sharing her room with her.
"Did you know you could date anyone you wanted?"  her boyfriend's voice sounded
"what?"
"literally anyone, you could be with someone who is more fun, sociable, handsome..."
"Wow, I need you to stop there and explain to me what all this is about."
Oscar removed his hands from her face and looked at her almost sadly.
"You could date anyone else, but you're with me. Why me? I need you to explain it to me, honey, because the doubt is killing me."
y/n walked up to him and sat next to him
"What do you mean by why? It's you. Everything about you fascinates me. From the first time I saw you, I knew I had to be with you. I can't imagine loving anyone else. You, with that calmness that counteracts my hyperactivity. You with all the things you do for me. You, who have done nothing but make me feel so loved."
Oscar looked at her with unshed tears "but I..."
She cut him off "there are no buts with you. I love you and I don't want to love anyone else. Because no one is more fun, handsome than you. And you are sociable in your own way, you always let me drag you to all the events I can. I think you don't realize how terrified I am that you'll realize you can do it better than me."
Oscar wiped away his tears "I feel stupid now" y/n stayed silent, waiting for her next action.  Her boyfriend opened the hugs "can I have a hug?"
"All that you want"
They stayed there, hugging the edge of the bed for a few minutes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to make you feel like that, I would never break up with you."
"It's good to know" she separated from him and they knocked on the door to deliver the food.
Minutes later, when they were both already eating on the bed.
"Hey," she called after swallowing a big bite.
"What?"
"When you said I could have any man I wanted"
"yes..." he replied cautiously
"Do you think Henry Cavill would be with me?" she asked mockingly
Oscar took a piece of bread and threw it at her, causing her to laugh "shut up."
322 notes · View notes
groguspicklejar · 20 hours
Text
Under Your Spell
Chapter 1: Sink Your Teeth
Pairing: Gaz x f!reader x Soap
Warnings: dark fic!!! dubcon/noncon touching, nonconsentual filming, manipulation, smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v, rough sex, mirror sex, male masturbation, one-sided pining.
A/N: idk how but this just spawned right out of me :)
+18 Only!!! No Minors or Ageless Blogs are to read this!!! And if you're not comfortable with the warnings above and the tags, do not read!!!
[Part 2] [Part 3]
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They return at the same time. Your eyes dart around as people pour out from the terminal gate until you spot them. Both still in their green uniforms, both weary and drained from their last mission.
Kyle instantly smiled when he sees you waiting for him and beelines for you. Nothing but relief flooded you when he drops his duffle bag and brings you into his arms and spins you around. Gleeful squeals are all that leave you when he does this and puts you down while kissing the side of your head. “God, you’ve no idea how much I missed you, doll.”
You’re a little breathless as he brings his mouth upon yours for a sweet kiss. “I have a distinct feeling that you’ll remind me when we get home.”
His eyes darken for a second. “Don’t you start.”
Smiling, you shift out of his grasp and turn to his companion. “Hey, Soap.”
“Good tae see ye again, bonnie.” John MacTavish, ever the enthusiast, grins widely at your greeting. You were surprised at how tightly Soap embraced you, but returned the gesture nonetheless. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, groaning into your skin.
He’s touchy, this one. Even more than your husband is. But that’s just Soap, he’s the affectionate one of the group and you’ve grown used to it by now. Soap’s arms tighten when you squirm and giggle, asking him if he’ll let go now.
You roll your eyes. He does this every time.
Although, today might be a little different.
“A few more minutes, bonnie” You flinch when he presses a kiss on your neck, lips then brushing against the curve of your ear as his voice lowers. “I’ve missed ye.”
For all of five seconds, you freeze, unsure of how to respond. Wondering if the ringing in your head was just you overreacting or if he was being as serious as you think he is.
You’re all too aware of the weight of his hands on your back, how he seems far too content with staying just like that. How he seems to want to melt into your bones and never leave.
Clearing your throat, you gently pull away. He’s just friendly. He’s just Soap. You’re reading into things that aren’t there.
“Okay.” you manage to smile again. “Who’s hungry?”
You don’t think they could’ve been any happier at that moment.
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You didn’t think much about that moment after that. You’ve just been too busy appreciating Kyle’s presence back home.
“You’ve been banking on this, haven’t you?” He’s got you bent over the sink, still in his gear. He’s on his knees as you plant your hands against the mirror. “Walking around wearing nothing under this.”
Your floral pink dress had been hiked up to your hips. His mouth sucking hotly on the skin of your thighs, fingers digging into your hips. His teeth nip your ass, earning a faint whimper.
Weeks of pent up agitation. Weeks without Kyle. It's never easy. Watching him leave, hoping he stays alive, praying he comes back to you still alive and in one piece. Hardly a night goes by when you don't think about him.
Hardly a moment goes by without thinking about the way he touches you. With fevor, with reverence. You've bought more batteries for your vibrator in the last few years than the average person does in their entire lifetime.
You’re trying to keep quiet. Trying not to let the throbbing between your thighs overrule your logic as you try to keep your voice lowered. Johnny’s in the guest room and the walls aren’t thick. You can’t bear the thought of him hearing what your husband does to you in the dead of night.
“My pretty little whore.” The trepidation in your bones increases when he buries his face in your pussy. You cover your mouth, eyes fluttering when his tongue cards between your folds, a loud groan following, echoing through the bathroom tiles. “Sitting in a public airport, waiting for me with no panties on. And you say I’m the nasty one, you hypocrite.”
A strained mewl escapes between your fingers. Your forehead lays against the mirror as he spreads your folds and licks your quivering pussy. And he does so slowly, with the patience of a saint.
Fuck, you've missed him.
“I’m not the one eating if from the ba–ah!” Your retort crest into a high pitch, your skin prickling with goosebumps. Too fast, too soon. Too loud. He suckles on your clit and rolls it between his tongue, hands gripping your ass to keep you still when you squirm too much.
The edge of a cliff is eerily too close and he's determined to nudge you just over it. Sparks crackle and light a fire down your spine. You want to reach for his hair but you can't leg go of the sink or risk removing the only barrier that keeps you from being too loud.
There's not much that can be done about the lewd wet noises that come from Gaz devouring you, but you muffle your own noises with the back of your wrist whilst still trying to beg him for more. “Kyle– please–”
You try to whisper, but it comes out in a hiccup. A weak moan, a plea for more, for mercy. For anything. Much to your devastation, he stops and grins at you with glistening hips and chin.
“Why are you getting all shy on me, love? You wanted this.” He stands up and you want to beg him to kneel again, but your eyes trail to his hands as you look behind. He's undoing his belt and rucks his pants down enough for his to reveal his cock.
You're trying not to be too distracted by how thick and veiny it is, how fucking good he's going to stretch you out. Instead, you meet his heated gaze. “I’m trying not to let our guest know what we’re up to.”
Kyle gently orders you to place your knee on the sink because he wants a clear view of your pussy. His arm wraps around you. You're set ablaze at the blunt tip sliding through your folds, a choked whimper muffled by how hard you bit your lip.
“Who cares if he hears us?” He keeps your stare through the mirror, angling his hips, drawing for the kill. Your skin prickles hotly when his cock pushes inside. He pulls out, only for a brief second, a miniscule moment of anticipation. “All that matters–”
His hips snap. A surprised scream tears out of your throat. He slides right home, filling you in ways you've missed, ways you could only find in dreams.
“–is our happy reunion.” he groans out, slowly pulling out and drawing inside again.
Your head lays against his shoulder. His cock is throbbing as he slowly pulls out and for a moment, you think he's going to take his time. He almost always does. But no—
A loud moan echoes through the bathroom when he snaps his hips again, sinking his cock deep inside your cunt. He presses you against the ceramic basin, face buried in your neck with his deep groan melting into your bones.
His hands pawed at the bodice of your dress until he's had enough of the fabric getting in the way. Suddenly, you gasp at the buttons that popped and spilled all over as he tore it open, granting him access to your breasts.
There was no time to reprimand him for that as he already started gliding his shaft in and out, muttering a strained curse into your ear. Pleasure coursed through your veins like rivers of molten lava, burning every sense of logic.
He made you look at him through the mirror and his hand reached between your legs. “Now be a good girl and let me hear you.”
“Gaz–” you choked, trying to keep your voice down. Your hand automatically goes to cover your mouth when your squeal pierces through the air, his thrusts becoming harder, more precise. You're spiralling further and further away from your grip on sanity with each drag of his length.
The power he had over you was frightening. But you couldn't find a drop of fear in your blood. He was so good at numbing every rational thought in your head with the way he easily bends your body to his will.
He fills you up so good, it's impossible to resist the flood that builds inside. Your pussy is fluttering and creaming around him already as he's fucks you in earnest, his rough palms groping your breasts under the torn material of your dress. Your skin already burns hot from the wet salacious noises and your own helpless mewls are muffled behind your hand.
“No hands on your mouth.” he commands, dragging your hand away, heated eyes seeing into you through his reflection. “Or I won’t let you cum.”
It's harsh. Almost bordering on cruel. But you've never known Kyle to go back on his promises. If he says he will or won't do something, it's more than likely that he means it and he'll stand on his word.
“Let him hear you. Let him hear how sweet you’re being for me.” It's pure sin whispered into your ear through harsh grunts and nips of his teeth. His fingers slip through your folds, dragging through the wetness and bringing it to circle around your throbbing clit. You can't help the moans that bleed out of your throat. “That’s it, love. That’s it. Be as loud as you need.”
His hips grind into you almost to the point where it's painful. There's going to be bruises on your hips from the way he's kept you pinned against the sink. Your hooded gaze is drawn to the mirror, watching the way your husband's cock glistens between hurried thrusts.
You're already at the brink of your limit with Kyle muttering endless filth about how he wouldn't mind showing Soap how good this pussy gets fucked every night upon his return, how Soap would be made to beg for a taste of you.
“He's a fucking dog, that one. He'd slobber all over your cunt if he even thinks he's got a chance.” Kyle says while rubbing your clit harder, his gaze focused on your drunken expression. “Would you give it to him, love? Would you let him eat your pussy?”
Your eyes roll back at the thought. Your mouth hung open as a long mewl escapes your lungs when you tighten around his cock. He fucks you harder when you cum. And keeps the pace up until it stutters and he floods your pussy with his spend.
You don't know what to make of Kyle's words. Except to chalk them as just that. Words. Just words. He can't actually want his best friend to fuck you, that's ridiculous.
If Soap heard what was going on in the other room, he didn’t breathe a word about it the next day. He was as chipper as a man can be, in fact. He's whistling as he walks into the kitchen as you're boiling water for Kyle's tea and your coffee.
“Mornin’, bonnie.” His grin is the widest it has ever been. You flinch when his hand brushes the small of your back when he walks past you. The touch is brief, but you can feel the heat radiating from his palm, seeping into your skin through your crisp shirt.
He's a fucking dog, that one.
Would you let him eat your pussy?
Your resolve falters. The unholy thoughts filter into your mind a million times at a second. Soap spreading your legs open with that mischievous glint in his eyes before he starts to lick the viscous fluid from your cunt. Your own body betrays you, a pulse slowly coming to life between your thighs.
Would you give it to him, love?
You pour a mug for Johnny. He preferred coffee. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good.” He pecks your cheek when you hand him the ceramic cup. “Feels good tae sleep on a bed tha’ doesn’t feel like a rock.”
You wished with all your might to not let it affect you. His proximity had never been a problem before. Now it grates at your existence. Whatever Kyle said to you the night before has taken root and has dug its way through some dark part of you that you haven't quite let into the light.
You need to rip it out. From the root and never let it grow back. You can't let it ruin your marriage. You can't let it get between a perfectly good friendship.
Kyle chuckled as he entered the kitchen. “Amen to that.”
It felt nice to have the boys back home. But alas, you had places to be and things to do and you wanted some semblance of space away from your husband's best friend so you can think clearly.
Both of them sat down across from each other at the table in the middle of the kitchen, drinking the tea/coffee you made for them. You had already gotten dressed for the day and went to grab your bag from the sofa while sipping your coffee. Johnny's voice follows you when you slink it over your shoulder, the weight of your laptop straining your bones. “Where are ye going, love?”
“Work.” You take one big gulp of your coffee before heading over to the sink. “Got an early meeting.”
You try as best as you can not to catch Soap's eyes as you finish the rest of your early morning hot beverage.
“Damn, really?” Kyle frowns. “Can’t you take a day off?”
“Unfortunately not, hon.” Your nearly empty cup goes in the sink and you head over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Some of us don’t get to have extended paid leave for saving the world because well… we don’t save the world.”
He puts his mug down on the table. “Let me drive you to work then.”
“No, it’s okay.” you pecked his lips and patted his shoulder. “You can stay in and get some sleep. Lord knows you need it.”
The last bit was whispered with a cheeky smile though you're sure Soap heard before you whirled away from him, letting his exasperated groan follow you to the door. “Dollface…”
“I’m right here, ye ken.” Johnny grumbles, rolling his eyes in annoyance.
“Apologies, Johnny.” you giggled just as Kyle stood up.
“Come on, I’m dropping you off. And I’ll be picking you up later too.”
It's very unlikely that he'll be taking no for an answer, so you graciously accept.
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“Look at the mirror, dollface. So pretty for me, darlin. All for me.”
Smut bastard, Johnny grits his teeth, jerking the hand around his leaking cock faster. The light from his phone illuminated his face in the dark room.
The flowers printed on your dress had been ruffled and torn wide open, revealing your breasts for display, showing the way they jiggled with each hard push of Kyle's hips. The man's hand played with one tit while the other splayed on your stomach with your dress bunched up, revealing the prize between your legs.
The hidden camera worked like a charm. Connected to Soap's phone to alert him when the motion detector had been set off and let him see and record everything. He's been playing the video back on repeat ever since you left for work.
It was Kyle's idea, a way to just rub it in Johnny's face on what he's missing out on. You.
Gaz, despite being open to the idea of letting another man fuck you, has been greedy about you since the very beginning. He doesn't brag about you to the squad. Always kept it hush-hush when it comes to you, even to Price.
That was until Gaz noticed the little crush obsession Soap had. Though it was kind of obvious with the way he kept asking about you. How you were, what you were probably doing at particular times of the day. Basic things. Innocent things. Harmless enough to keep Soap from spiralling while he's on deployment, harmless enough to make him look forward to come to visit you.
“You worry about Soap hearing you, but what if he saw us like this, hm?” Kyle's gravel tone crackles through the phone. Soap fixes his eyes on the way his cock batters your sweet pussy, your whimper making his blood sing. “Naughty girl— You liked that, don't you?”
Johnny feels his shaft throb with want, with a vicious need dig his fingers into your skin through the bloody screen. Just an ounce of shame bleeding into his veins as he fists his cock, desperate for that release. Pining over his best friend's wife. Drooling over you like the fucking dog that he is.
It doesn't help that said best friend is helping him indulge this disgustingly insatiable need.
Your sweet voice crescendos into a cry of your husband's name when you cum. Soap watches the way your face scrunched in pleasure, your frame twitching in Kyle's arms. It is too much, triggering Soap's orgasm altogether.
It's a hot, blistering implosion. A savage curse taking root deep in his heart and wrapping around his veils, his bones. A hiss tears through the air, hips stuttering as he forces his cock through his lubed hand for a few more strokes while hot cum bursts from it.
He's shaking as the high slowly descends him back down to earth. Panting deeply as he lays heavily on the bed, heat and sweat clinging to his skin. All he can think of is you, you, you.
There was no erasing you from his mind. No after what he's seen. Not after Gaz made him pear through his most private moments with you, showing just how good you are to him.
Johnny groans as he finally lets go of his cock, swallowing thickly as he looks at the cum sticking to his palm.
“Hells fucking bells...”
Gaz is never going to let him live this down.
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[part 2; Split My Skin] Under Your Spell Masterlist posting this and going straight to sleep. bye✌🏽
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186 notes · View notes
mountainsandmayhem · 2 days
Text
Shhh...Just A Little Bit More
Part Three (Soft Version)
DBF!Joel x Female!Reader - 18+
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Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 (Spicy Version)
Summary: Joel Miller caught you working where you shouldn't be after you promised to quit. Now he's taking matters into his own hands. Word Count 4.7k
CW: DBF!, Dom!, SoftDom!, use of nicknames (baby, sweet pea, baby girl etc.), Sub/Dom, DD/LG, use of a collar, use of toys. no use of y/n. no description of reader except for piercings. Praise, degradation. After care.
AN: THANK YOU for all your love on parts 1 and 2. I was in my feels when I wrote this, so this is the sweeter version of the two. I'd love to hear which version you preferred!
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“Hey, buddy. It’s Joel.”
“Joel?” You can hear your dad’s muffled and panicked voice through the receiver. “Where’s my daughter? Why do you have her phone? It’s 5 am!” 
“Remember that time Sarah ran away to your house and you told me that one day I might be doing the same for you?” 
Your dad is silent for a while, a distorted higher pitched voice filters through before you hear your dad again, “It’s alright honey. She’s with Joel.” He lets out a deep sigh before adding, “I thought we skipped the rebellious phase with her.”
“She’s a good girl. I think she just needs some time to cool off.” Joel says, his voice is friendly and light.
You squeeze your thighs together and nuzzle deeper into Joel’s throat. You know what you need, and it isn’t to cool off. He and your dad have been friends since the day he moved in down the street. You were seven and Sarah was eleven, you thought she was the coolest person on the planet. Wonder what she’d think of you now, cuddled up against her dad after he just edged the fuck out of you after spanking you in an alleyway. You’re lost in your thoughts as Joel talks with your parents for a while.
A sane person would stop being so turned on right now. Fuck, I need Joel. So badly. Maybe I should rile him up some more. 
“I’ll come by this afternoon,” Joel hugs you tighter, bringing you back to the conversation. “Ya, if she wants to, I’ll bring her. She’s ok, just never seen her more - frustrated.” 
You squeeze his side, knowing he’s smirking about how frustrated and needy you truly are right now. He hangs up the phone and brings his lips to yours, kissing you harder this time. You moan into his mouth, hands roaming up his body to tangle in his hair. 
Holy shit, Joel Miller is kissing me. 
As you run your nails along his scalp he lets out a pleasurable sounding gasp. Oh, he likes that, he likes that very much. 
Got ya, you think to yourself. 
He pulls away to see you smiling at him. “This is why I usually tie naughty girls down,” his voice is completely different from how it was just moments ago. Deeper, more commanding, and it reverberates through you, right to your pussy. “Because they think they’ve found spots that will get them what they want. Let’s go home now, darlin’.” 
Joel’s front door has barely closed before he’s pushing you up against the wall, caged in by his arms and strong chest. 
Every bump on the drive home had you twitching, you tried your hardest not to gasp and moan but the combination of the gravel road, your insane state of heightened arousal, and the lack of underwear in your stiff denim shorts were all working against you. 
“Did you come on the drive home?” He says coldly, lips pressing against your neck, hitting that sweet soft spot just below your ear. 
“No, Joel,” you whine. 
His teeth graze your throat and you cry out, “It’s Mr Miller, don’t make me remind you again.” 
Your hands scramble for purchase as your knees start to give out, wrapping around the open flannel shirt he’s wearing over a fitted black t-shirt. 
“I’m sorry, Mr Miller. I don’t…” you trail off, you aren’t sure if you should say you’ve never been a sub before, at least not to someone this experienced. You don’t want him to stop, you love what happened tonight and you want him to show you and teach you what this all means. But even more so, you trust him to teach you. 
Joel stops kissing you, hands coming to your waist and lifting you so your eye level. When you wrap your legs around his trim waist you gasp out in a mix of pleasure and pain. Your poor cunt is begging for relief but you can’t barely stand your clit to be touched. His eyes look at you with concern. 
I deserve to go to hell if she tells me she’s a virgin. Fuck, you were so stupid when it comes to her. 
“I need you to finish that sentence, babygirl. You don’t what?” 
Your cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, so shy compared to that bratty girl who told him to kiss his ass. Joel has the gut sinking feeling that you might have him wrapped around your little finger already.
Dangerous.
Very very dangerous.
Not to mention stupid. 
“I’ve just..” you start, he brings his hands to cup your face, moving a few strands of stray hairs that are stuck to your lips. “I haven’t had a Dom before. I don’t know what to do or what to call you.” 
Cute, Joel thinks to himself, she’s so fucking cute right now. 
“Well babygirl, when we are playing like this you do what I tell you, and if you don’t like what I tell you, you use the safe word. Do you remember it?”
You nod, biting your lip as you whisper, “Cowboy.” 
His face lights up with pride and in that moment you realize you’ll do anything to have him look at you like that again. And when he throws in a gravelly, ‘good girl’, any inhibitions you had go out the window. You are a good girl, you want to be his good girl…forever. 
He continues, “And when we are playing you call me Mr Miller. Otherwise, you can call me whatever you’d like.” He places a light kiss on the tip of your nose and you melt a little more into him and the wall behind you. “Do you have any other questions, baby?” 
Do you know what it does to me when you call me baby? 
Or kiss my nose or forehead like you have? 
Can you spank me again? 
Can you make me come? 
Can I suck your dick? 
How do you feel about anal? 
“Umm,” you press your lips together, eyes taking in every little bit of his face, trying to memorize this moment. “How will I know when we are playing and when we aren’t?” 
Fuck, if this girl lets me put a collar on her I’m going to come in my pants and then propose. 
“There’s my smart girl,” he praises, his coffee and caramel coloured eyes washing over you. “We can have a symbol, something I give you when we play. And when you’re wearing it you’re mine.” His voice sounds full of passion all of a sudden, each work almost sears itself onto your heart. 
Your heart is pounding at what he’s implied and you’re almost sure he can hear it. “What kind of symbol?” 
He puts you down and then gets on one knee to untie your shoes and help you slip them off. His warm fingertips trail up your legs as he stands before taking your hand in his. With his large palm encasing yours, suddenly you feel safe and loved, your pussy flutters at the promise of him taking care of you in a way that only he can. You know you’re going to be ruined for all other men. 
He leads you to his bedroom and it’s nothing like you remember when you’d play hide and seek while Sarah babysat you. Gone is the old wooden furniture and mismatched bedding. Replaced with a black metal bed frame, along with matching bedside tables and dresser, and the fluffiest white sheets you’ve ever seen. You so badly want to just sink in and get naked with Joel. It looks like it would be like getting fucked on a cloud or cotton candy and those thoughts are only solidified when he tells you to sit before he heads to the closet doors. 
He slides the barn door of his large walk-in closet open. The room seems to wrap you up in Joel’s scent, warm and spicy with a hint of vanilla. As he walks into the closet he toes off his boots and then slides his flannel off, placing it on a hanger. It might be your very neglected pussy talking, but you swear you can see every muscle in his body underneath that shirt and you unconsciously spread your legs a little bit. He reaches up above the clothing and pulls out a black box with a lock on it and then looks at you mischievously as he pads back over to you. 
“Sometimes,” he says gently, “A dom will give their sub a collar. When it’s on, we’re playing. You belongs to me. When it’s off, we can just act how we normally would.” 
A collar, definitely not sure how you feel about that. You don’t want to be like a dog with a black leather collar around your neck. He slides the numbers to enter the combination and then flicks the clasp open. 
To your surprise, he pulls out a dainty golden chain. It almost looks like a bunch of yellow paper clips strung together, and there’s a tiny lock pendant on the end. He runs the thin links through his fingers before looking over at you. 
“You don’t have to do this, I can just take you home and we can go back to how things were. Ultimately, you always have the choice.” If a stranger could see the way he was looking at you right now, they’d never be able to tell he was capable of the spanking he gave you earlier. 
“You’ll stop if I say ‘cowboy’?” You say, voice cracking, nervous and excited energy fighting for first place. 
“Always, babygirl. I’m here to dominate you, but I’m also here to take care of you. A good dom will always take of their sub.” 
“Then I want to. Please, Mr Miller. Make me yours.” 
He almost growls as he pulls you to your feet. You squeal as he hoists you over his shoulder, his hands strong on the back of your thighs as he carries you to the floor-length mirror at the end of his closet. He stands behind you as he works the clasp, placing the thin gold collar around your neck and then doing it up. He’s so close that you can feel his cock harden at the sight of you as he officially makes you as his for the first time. Joel's thick fingers trace along the rings, he thumbs the little lock pendant before he grips your throat just below your jawline. He applies pressure to your pulse point as his now black eyes come to meet yours in the reflection and brings his lips to your ear. 
With a growling, rough whisper he says, “You have five seconds to get naked and lay in my bed with your legs spread as wide as you can.” 
The instant his hand releases, you sprint to his bed, stripping your clothes as you go. He counts to five with authority and after what happened his truck, and now this, you’re sure you’re never going to be able to count without getting turned on ever again. 
“Such an eager little thing, aren’t you?” 
Desperate to hear him praise you, you lay on your back, planting your feet on the bed before letting your knees fall open. 
“Straighten your legs and put your hands above your head.” You position your body how he says, even though you’re completely exposed to him his eyes stay locked on yours. “This is how I want you when we start playing. Exactly how you are now.” 
He grabs another box from his closet and places it on the foot of the bed, eyes travelling up your toned legs, “I’m going to show you what you’ll be going to work with inside of you tomorrow if you decide to stay there. I haven’t forgotten that you were a brat tonight.” 
He opens the box and pulls out a black U-shaped piece of silicone and lays it on your belly. “Do you know what this….” 
He stops mid-sentence, eyes lighting up as they rake over your tits. They dance from each nipple, taking in the tiny barbell and the thin hearts that encompass each one. “You are a naughty little thing, aren’t you?” 
“I like pain,” you whisper, throat going dry at the admission. 
“My little masochist,” he hums. “As I was saying, do you know that is?” He nods his head towards the little toy. 
You shake your head, “No, Mr Miller.” 
“That goes inside your gorgeous pussy. One part pushes on your g spot, the other on your clit. I have the remote.” He holds up a small plastic remote with a few shiny buttons.
“Oh,” you moan, your lips forming in the shape of the word, nipples getting harder at the thought.
“I will keep it turned on low enough that you will not come. In fact, it might be more like torture than pleasure.” His eyes are sparkling at the thought of you squirming for hours.
“But I don’t want to quit,” you whine. You’re a glutton for punishment and you know Joel will dish it out. 
“How long is your shift?” He says, picking up the toy, the graze of his fingers along your belly sends an electric current through your body. 
“Four hours,” your voice is husky with need. 
“I’m going to get some lube and then put this toy inside of you now, babygirl. We’ll see how long you can last. Is that okay?” 
“Of course, Mr Miller.” You try to sound confident but in the bright lights of his room, you can see how dark and serious he looks. 
He lubes up the toy and then swipes some lube through your folds. Your back arches off the bed and you let out a loud high pitched moan when he hits your clit. 
Fuck. I’m gonna come with the tiniest vibration and it’s probably going to hurt. 
“So wet. So swollen. My poor girl,” he says mockingly, he’s loving that you’ve been suffering and on edge since the minute you saw him in that alleyway. 
The toy slides in and the pressure just from the silicone alone sends the air whooshing out of your lungs. You’re gasping for breath, your clit feels like it’s being zapped with electricity and you immediately slam your thighs together and start to whimper. 
A small, almost evil sounding chuckle comes from Joel as he holds up the remote. “Ready?” 
“No,” you gasp, rolling onto your belly. “I can’t. Please don’t.” 
“Are you going to quit?” 
You cry out in frustration into one of his fluffy pillows and then whisper a sad, “no.” 
The vibrator comes to life and the most intense mix of pain and pleasure floods your body. He’s right, the sensation isn’t enough to make you come, just enough so that you know it’s there. You bury your face deeper in the pillows, curling yourself into the fetal position, back towards Joel, as you try to breathe normally. 
Joel strips down to his boxers before shutting off the lights. He slips into the sheets, covering you up along the way. “Good night, baby girl.” 
“What?” You gasp. “Mr Miller. I….oh god…I c-can’t. It’s on.” 
“You may as well get used to it. You’re going to work with it in tomorrow. No more talking. Go to sleep.” 
Joel lays on his back, one arm behind his head, the other palm spread out on his chest. You flip around to face him, the early morning sun lighting his profile. There’s no way you’re going to be able to sleep, you shift your legs around. 
Maybe if they’re spread I won’t feel the vibration as much. 
That doesn’t seem to work so instead you squeeze them together. More pressure might make you come and then you can finally get some rest. Joel looks over at you as you jerk around silently. 
“Come here,” he says, patting his chest. You cuddle into him, one leg draping over his warm body. The arm behind his head wraps around your naked body. He feels so soft but hard against you. You can’t help but hump against his hip bone. You’re right on the edge. So close to tipping over it and coming. So very close. 
“Baby, it hasn’t even been four minutes, how are you going to last four hours?” He’s taunting you, trying to get you to beg. “You’re pathetic.” 
You can feel sweat breaking out across your body. This is torture, was right. You hate that he was right, but you hate even more how much he’s loving it. 
“Please,” you whisper. 
He pulls back to be able to look into your eyes. “What are you going to do for me if I make you come?” 
“Anything. Just. Please, Mr Miller.” You grind yourself into him harder, you’re so close that it’s almost unbearable. 
“Quit your job, baby girl.” He demands again. “I’ll tell your parents you’re going to work for me.” 
You start to pant as the pressure in your lower belly increases, you can feel wetness pooling inside of you, begging to be released. “I can’t take your money. Oh god - please - I ca-can’t. Hnnnnng. P-please.” 
A tear runs down your cheek and you’re not even sure why you’re crying, probably out of frustration.  
“You can. I’ll pay you to help around the house,” he holds up a hand, almost like he knows exactly what you’re doing today. “Not for the sex you’re guaranteed to get if you quit and come here.” He wipes the tear away and hikes his leg up to increase the pressure that’s already on the verge of making you pass out. 
Stars start to blur your vision as you whisper, “ok. I’ll quit.” 
Joel has you flipped onto your back, trapped under his weight before you can even register what’s happening. He’s kissing you deeply, tongue taking what it wants as your legs kick and shake under him. 
“Please!” You cry between kisses. 
His thick fingers slide between your puffy folds and the toy, you scream out as he pulls the toy from you. 
“Shhh…just a little bit more. I’m going to make it better,” he says gently, kissing down your neck, swirling his tongue around each nipple piercing. 
“Please. Please. Please, Mr Miller. Please. It hurts. I need, please.” You’re a mumbling mess and the words leaving your lips are practically incomprehensible. 
“I know. Relax baby. Breathe.” He says between kisses down your sternum, his tongue tracing your curves. When he finally settles in between your thighs he swallows hard, he wants to dive right in, make you drench his face as you come. “Look at me, darlin’.” 
His warm breath hits your pussy and you fight your hips from bucking up to his face as prop yourself up on an elbow and try to focus your eyesight on him. You didn’t know it was possible to be so turned on that you practically had tequila vision. 
His voice is serious yet calm as he says, “I’m going to make you come using my fingers and my tongue. Is that ok?” 
You nod your head and a faint ‘yes’, leaves your lips. 
“Can I lick and touch both the outside and inside of this beautiful, weeping, pussy?” 
His words from earlier echo through you. Ultimately, you always have the choice. 
Joel Miller would never do something you didn’t want and that sets your soul on fire. He cares. About you. Only you. Wants to do things for you. You are not a burden here. You are not a burden to him. 
“Yes, Mr Miller. Please. Touch me.” The room suddenly feels twenty degrees hotter, you can feel sweat beading on your skin. 
“What’s your safe word?” 
“Cowboy,” you hum, never taking your eyes away from his blown out obsidian gaze. 
“That’s my girl,” he says, sliding his ring and middle finger around your desperate entrance. You cry out, dropping your body to the bed. Pleasure. Overwhelming pleasure. “No no baby girl, eyes on me.” 
You somehow muster the strength to raise yourself onto shaky arms. His two strong fingers slide deep into your heat with minimal resistance and you immediately start gasping. Pleasure. Life altering, heart stopping pleasure. 
“Fuuuuck. Baby. So tight. Have you ever squirted before?” His cheeks are flushed with need. He might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 
Your breasts rise and fall with your ragged breaths. You shake your head and moan out a ‘no’. 
He smiles down at your dripping cunt, “I can feel it. Gotta relax for me. Just breathe and let it happen.” 
Nerves flutter in your stomach and then he curls his fingers forward, putting so much pressure on a soft spongy spot that you didn’t know existed. On instinct, your knees try to close but his wide frame keeps you open. You yell his name to the ceiling, he knows he should punish you for not calling him Mr Miller but you look so goddamn beautiful as you start to fall apart. 
“Breathe baby,” he says as he curls his fingers once, twice, three more times. You can hear how wet you are and the pressure becomes unbearable. Stars blur your vision again, the walls of your pussy squeeze tightly around his fingers and then it’s just a blur. A blur of all consuming pleasure. 
“That’s it. That’s my girl. Come for me. Soak me. Good girl,” Joel’s free hand pressed down on your mound as a wet heat leaks all over you. “Good fuckin’ girl. Let go for me.” 
You’re not sure if you’re screaming or not, all you hear and feel is Joel. Everything is Joel. Strong hands, deep gravel voice, warm vanilla smell. He’s everywhere and you never want it to stop. 
“Keep going. That’s it. You look so beautiful,” he says, licking a long stripe up your fluttering pussy, drinking up your juices. “Oooh yeah - gooood giiirrll”
Almost immediately after your orgasm crests it becomes too much. You’re so overstimulated that it hurts and your moans of pleasure become cries of pain. You forget your name, where you are, you even forget your safe word. But Joel knows, he always knows. 
He stops pumping his fingers and says your name, “look at me sweet pea.”
You blink slowly, you’re wrecked, barely able to keep your eyelids open, almost convinced they’ve been replaced with steel. You’re sucking in air, did you not breathe that entire time? 
“Breathe baby, you’re ok.” He says, stilling his fingers until you’re ready. 
“I’m sorry, Mr Miller. I know I called you Joel. I won’t do it again.” 
There she goes again, being so fucking cute. “It’s ok, darlin’ girl. I want you to let loose when you come.” He places a few light kisses along your thighs. The sheets and his t-shirt a soaked, he’ll need to change things before you both get some sleep. “I’m gonna pull my fingers out.” 
You fall back to the bed and fist the sheets to ground yourself as he slides his fingers out. “You did such a good job. Made a huge mess. I’m so proud of you, babygirl.”
Every bone and muscle in your body seems to have dissolved and all you can muster is a weak smile and a little whimper of thanks. “I need to get you cleaned up. Stay here.” 
Stay here? I have no bones. Where else will go? 
The sound of running water coaxes your eyes to close. The mattress shifts under Joel’s weight as he sits beside you, lightly trailing his finger down the bridge of your nose. “I’m going to carry you to the shower. Ok?” 
You let out an agreeable hum as he scoops you into his arms. His warm naked chest pressed against you. He walks into the shower with you, the steam warming your skin. He places you on your feet and guides you under the water with him. Water is hitting you from all angles. You open your eyes to see 3 showerheads in his large, modern glass shower. A large rainfall one above the two of you, then two down the wall. The bundle of fresh eucalyptus hanging from one head fills the shower with a fresh scent. 
His fingers fumble with the clasp of your collar behind you, “how are you feeling after what happened tonight?” 
You smile at the white and black tiled wall as the collar slides off your neck and into Joel’s hands. “Mmm - like I’m not gonna quit my job so we can do it again.” 
“Don’t think I won’t put this on again right now and make you regret that.” 
You giggle and press your body back into Joel’s. He’s completely naked behind you and you have the sudden urge to taste him. As you spin around and get to your knees he stops you, “don’t interrupt my aftercare, please.” 
“Your what?” 
He grabs the soap and a fresh wash cloth and starts to work it to lather. “I told you, it’s my job to take care of you.” It’s too early to admit it to you, but aftercare is Joel’s favourite part. He’s grumpy and rough on the outside, but he loves the tender moments after playing with his subs. Especially you, and that’s something he won’t even admit to himself yet. 
He runs the soft cloth over your arms and chest, using extra caution not to catch on your nipple piercings. I like these,” he says, eyes memorizing every inch of the skin he’s washing. 
“Thanks, you’re actually the first person to see them.” 
“That right?” He moves the cloth down your stomach before kneeling in front of you and washing your legs. “You know what I think you should pierce next?” 
“I have an appointment next week for something,” you tease. It’s not a lie, you have an appointment to get a second hole in each earlobe, but may as well play with him a little. 
“Oh? Don’t tease an old man like that, baby girl. What new surprise am I gonna find?” He brings the cloth up and down your other leg. 
“What do you want to find?” 
His hands grip your hips and he spins you around. You have a small bruise forming on your one ass cheek and his cock jumps at the sight. “Belly button,” he says. 
“Oh?” You say with surprise as he stands behind you and scrubs your back. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and add, “I was thinking of doing my clit.” 
Joel’s hands come to his heart as he moans. “Fuck me, baby girl. I’d have to leave the god damn continent until it healed.” 
You laugh as he brings his lips to yours. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that you aren’t wearing a collar. But he’s kissing you and washing your body. Does this mean that Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, might have the same sort of feelings that you have? Or is this just what he does with his subs after dehydrating them with his fingers and tongue. 
“Stay in the warm water while I change the sheets. I’ll be back,” you look over your shoulder to finally take in his naked body. His back is lined with corded muscle, water droplets filling the dips and grooves of his sculpted body. It looks like you could bounce your whole fucking bank account off his round ass. 
Am I salivating. I feel like I’m salivating. 
He wraps a white bath sheet around his waist before you get to see his front - as much as you loved being taken care of earlier you should have looked down. You run some shampoo and conditioner through your hair, rinsing it out just as Joel comes back, now in a pair of fitted boxer briefs. He holds up a towel for you, and after turning off the water you pad over to him for him to wrap you up and gently dry you off. 
“Thank you, Mr Miller,” you say instinctively. 
He smiles softly at you as he dries every inch of your skin. “Go lay down, babygirl. I’ll get some lotion and then you need to get some sleep.” 
When you walk out to his bed there’s a t-shirt and a bottle of water on the pillow for you. 
Fuck. I’m in love. 
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miserycanary · 2 days
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MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩
♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader
synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all
tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff
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"Sir? Sir!”
Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”
You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).
It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him. 
Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.
He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.
Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out. 
One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.
You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.
“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again. 
From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love. 
| The letter: 
‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go. 
With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’
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꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen
check out my other works: ⚝! I’m taking in requests.
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erwinsvow · 23 hours
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“yeah, you want that one?” rafe asks you, while you browse through the dresses on the rack. the one you’ve picked out to show him is yellow gingham, with skinny straps and a bow on the neckline. you hold the dress to your chest, looking down to see where it’ll end on you. “i’ll get it for you.”
“hm…” you consider the idea for a moment, holding the dress out again to get a better look. “i don’t know. it’s pretty short.”
“since when is that a bad thing?” rafe moves his arm against the rack, manhandling the hanger from your hand and holding it against you himself. “think it’s perfect.” you laugh at your boyfriend’s antics.
“there has to be a reason to wear it, rafe. i don’t have any right now.”
“we’ll go to dinner. there’s your reason.”
“i have other dresses,” you decide finally, putting it back between the others.
“c’mon, just let me get it for you.” he follows you while you walk away and wander towards the jewelry section of the store. you look down at sparkling silver and shimmery gold, while rafe joins you and leans against the glass counter. “you want jewelry instead? that’s fine.”
“no, i’m just looking,” you insist again. “it’s called window shopping. ever heard of it? 
there’s pretty things in the case, a silver bracelet with little blue stones that particularly catches your eye since blue is your new favorite color, but you don’t really want anything, and you really don’t want rafe to buy it for you.
“no. just pick somethin’ out. my treat.” you glance up at rafe.
“for what? i haven’t done anything.” he laughs to himself, not necessarily at you, more because of you.
“i don’t need a reason.” he makes you flush, so you walk away again, this time to the shoes. you hold a pair of brown sandals in your hand, flipping them over to see the size.
“you already treated me, remember? you paid for lunch.” rafe grabs the shoes out of your hands too.
“that’s a meal, not a treat. want these?” he looks down at you, not even sparing a glance to the price tag. “c’mon.” you grab his wrist as fast as you can.
“no! no. i have some just like these. it’ll be a waste, i’ll never wear them.”
“are you bein’ serious or are you just sayin’ that?” damn it. you are just saying it, since you don’t want rafe spending his money on you. you lie to cover your tracks.
“serious. i’d never lie to you.”
you wrestle the shoes out of his hand, settling them back on the shelf. 
“fine. c’mon, we can go somewhere else.” you finally let him buy you an ice cream cone just so he’ll stop offering.
you try to explain to rafe that the reason you want to walk around is to look around and spend time with him, not to really buy things, but he’s hard to convince. 
rafe thinks you need to stop being so worried about what everyone will think. you’re still bad at it, trying to ignore that part of you that murmurs in your ear that people will judge you for all these nice, new things rafe wants to buy you. you think people will say you’re dating him for the money, but worse than that, you think people will say bad things about rafe, about his choice in dating you, if you ever make him buy you more than dinner or ice cream.
your hesitancy gets the best of you, and even though you’ve always had some nice things, being pampered by rafe feels inherently wrong, like you should at least make sure he knows he doesn’t need to buy you anything. lost in your own thoughts, you’ve rejected his offers countless times, and the only new, expensive thing he’s gotten you since you started dating is the R necklace you wear everyday. 
you think you’re good at hiding it, but you’re not. rafe sees right through you, and he knows what he’s going to do about it. 
later that week, rafe drops you off at home in the morning after you slept over. you still think he hates driving in the cut—as much as he denies it—but he refuses to let you bike back and forth to tannyhill. 
“i’ll pick you up for dinner.” he says, leaning across you to open the passenger side door. you flush like you always do, partly because he’s not asking, he’s telling.
you nod, and then wave bye from the window. he waits until you get inside to drive away, which makes you want to go scream into your pillow. you head into your room to do just that, but you’re greeted instead by bags and boxes littered across your bed.
you know what they are, even before you walk over on your wobbly knees and set aside the tissue paper, looking down with watery eyes all the things you had been admiring in the store the other day with rafe. you sit down next to them—the yellow dress, the pretty sandals, the glittery bracelet—and dial rafe’s number on your phone. you exhale shaky breaths while the line rings, but can’t hold back tears any longer when he answers.
“you didn’t have to do this,” you say quietly into the phone, biting your cheek. you try to blink away the new tears.
“do what?” you laugh, so rafe laughs too. 
“i…i feel bad when you buy me things.”
“i know. y’should stop that.”
“or you can stop first.”
“i’m never gonna stop.” you suck in a breath, heart thudding and feeling deliriously in love. “gonna come get you later. wear the new stuff, okay?”
“okay. i will.”
“that’s my girl.” you fall back and let your head hit the pillow.
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Could I request Astarion and his s/o getting into a sass competition where Astarion ends up confessing to her by accident and now he's all flustered?
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Astarion x Reader
“Can’t you go any faster?”
“I’m not exactly as well versed into taking these off as I am in putting them on, darling.” Astarion quipped at you as he fiddled with the lock on your cuffs.
Being somewhat of an anti-hero liaisons these days, the group had been pinched on some trumped up but completely true & legal charges of petty theft and larceny. Your options were fight, flight, or get arrested when confronted by the guards and charges. And since you couldn’t fight a whole city’s worth of Iron Fists, and running also seemed unplausible as you’d have to come back to the city sometime, you decided to take you lumps and went to jail. Luckily, where there’s a will there’s a way. Or in this case: a vampire with a lockpick up his sleeve.
“Why did you wait to do me last anyway? Just to see me suffer?”
“Well,” Astarion cooed, “it does have a certain visual appeal.”
You clicked your teeth and rolled your eyes. “Could you just hurry up? I’m starting to lose the feeling in my hands. All the blood is rushing out of them.”
“Oh, well, we wouldn’t want that.”
“Well, if you want my blood again, you should be more sympathetic to my pain.” You told him. Sighing heavily as one arm was free and Astarion moved on to the other one.
“Don’t you threaten me. Besides, if you won’t give me what I want, I’ll just move on to some other lucky companion in our camp.”
“Ha! Like anyone else would have you.”
Astarion frowned. “I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who would welcome my teeth at their necks. Hundreds. Thousands!”
“Yeah. One blood obsessed drow and…who was the other one you tricked again?” You pulled at the shackles, which jiggled the irons and knocked the lockpick free, but unbroken. The vampire growled at you.
“I tricked you easy enough, didn’t I?”
“Only because I took pity on you.”
“Pity?!”
“Yeah.” You told him. “That poor, sad, puppy dog ‘please feed me’ look was just something I couldn’t say no to.”
Astarion growled again. “That is not how it happened. Besides, if you didn’t like it you wouldn’t keep asking for more.”
“Oh sure. Blame the victim.”
“You are not a victim!” He snapped at you. He seemed a little wounded by that one. Maybe you went a little too far. “Gods.” He cursed under his breath with a frown. “You are lucky I love you so much, otherwise I would just leave you here, chained up, and never bite you again. No matter how much you begged me.”
The lock finally snapped open and your arm fell to the side. You lifted it to rub your wrist but were uncharacteristically silent.
“Would it have been too much to expect a thank you??”
“Did you just say you love me?”
Astarion froze for a moment. A little wide eyed at your question. He seemed to be racking his brain for a moment. Trying to remember the conversation before an ‘Oh. Shit.’ expression came over his face. “What? Oh, that. Figure of speech darling, of course.” He let out a single nervous cough after that and a rushed, “let’s go meet up with the other.” Before he turned on his heels and made a speedy exit.
You rub your wrist one more time as a soft, shy smile came to your lips behind his back. You follow after him and meet up with the others. Waiting just outside the prison for the two of you, as apparently just around the corner was enough of an escape from the mighty Iron Fist.
“Ah! I just love this fresh air.” You exclaim, followed by more comments on how dusty & dank your cell had been, but really just watching Astarion’s shoulders tense.
You spent the rest of the day subversively tormenting Astarion. Making comments on how much you loved the weather, or loved a dress in a window. How much you loved dinner that night. How much you loved getting a good night’s rest that night.
By the time everyone had gone off to their respective tents for the evening, Astarion had apparently had enough and slunk up to yours. “I know what you’re doing. Now stop it!” He hissed.
“But I thought you’d love it.”
“Stop it!” He hissed again. If he could right now, he would blush. You were tempted to let him feed on you for a moment to get the full effect. “I mean it! How would you like it if I threw every verbal misstep in your face? I don’t keep bringing up the time you said Ibis instead of Ignis, now do I??”
It was pretty funny when that bird showed up.
“So, are you upset that you said it and I’m teasing of you, or are you upset that you didn’t mean it and I keep bringing it up?” You honestly didn’t know which answer would be worse at this point. You felt bad you had wounded his pride to the point that he came to talk to you. But you also don’t think you could take it if he told you that he didn’t love you.
Astarion just stood there for a moment, thinking, before he sighed and waved you off. “Just…knock it off ok. I’ve had quite enough today. I’m going to get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”
He turned to walk away and just before he fell out of ear shot you called to him. “Hey Astarion,” he looked back over his shoulder at you, “I love that you could come and talk to me about this.”
He huffed, but you could see the corners of his mouth struggling to keep down. “Oh shut up.”
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ssokkasmoon · 2 days
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Hello !!! I have read your work and I find it amazing , so , if you don't have any problem , do you think we could see something of old Zuko and his reader wife ?I mean , them being a cute old couple in the eyes of the new avatar team . And maybe a bit of angst where the reader gets sick or injured and old Zuko is genuinely worried about losing his wife , partner and lifelong friend . The reader understands her husband's mixed feelings at the thought of her loss , but she assures her that if that is the case , she will look for him in each and every one of their next lives . In the end, it's just Zuko being weak and sweet to his wife.
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ZUKO AND READERS RELATIONSHIP WHEN THEY ARE OLDER
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As Zuko grew older and assumed the role of Fire Lord, his relationship with you evolved and deepened. you now had kids and grandkids and despite your ups and downs, you found a way to build a strong bond based on mutual understanding and support .
Zuko and you had new habits and traditions that were uniquely yours. you had a daily ritual of sharing breakfast together, sipping tea while discussing your plans for the day, spending time with your grandchildren, reading stories to them, telling them about your past adventures .
You two also liked taking slow walks through the palace gardens, holding hands and talking about your past adventures like how you met, often exchanged playful banter and inside jokes that only you understood. You enjoyed spending quality time together.
It became a tradition for you to host regular gatherings,where you two invited your old friends (old team). Katara who was now little lonely since Aangs passing, and Toph who was even more witty than before.
Despite your age, Zuko and you never lost your spirit of adventure. You went on occasional journeys together, exploring new lands and experiencing new cultures.
The younger Avatar Team, including Korra and her friends, looked up to Zuko and you as respected and revered figures. They viewed you as living legends who played big roles in the past events that shaped the world they live in now. Bolin was especially fond of you, since he almost fainted from happiness after seeing you two.
Besides seeing you as legends they admired the way Zuko's eyes still sparkled with love and adoration whenever he looked at you, and the way your face lit up with a gentle smile in response. They find it cute how you two still acted like youthful couple.
They saw a love that had stood the test of time, and they longed for relationships as enduring and beautiful as yours.
 Team found inspiration in your unwavering support for one another. They witnessed the little gestures of affection, like Zuko placing a gentle kiss on your forehead or you playfully teasing Zuko, and it reminded them of the deep connection and both love and friendship they should look for in their own relationships.
~
The time when you fell seriously ill was difficult for him. It shook Zuko to his core, and his fear of losing his wife, partner, and lifelong friend consumed him. The thought of a future without you in it felt unbearable, and he was overwhelmed and worried.
His nights were filled with restless sleep and countless hours spent by your side,talking and holding your hand , praying for your recovery. He couldn't bear the idea of a world without you.
Seeing how worried he was, you, even in you weakened state, reached out to comfort him.
You understood his fear and With a gentle touch, you assured him that your love was not bound by a single lifetime,that if the worst were to happen, you would seek him out in each and every one of your next lives. You promised to always look for him, to find him in the bond you shared, and to love him across time and space.
And yes, in every life time you two continued to fall in love, again and again.
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cjayius · 3 days
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FEELS LIKE — NISHIMURA RIKI
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SYNOPSIS. the three times nishimura riki almost told his best friend he loved her, and the one time he actually did.
pairing. bestfriend!riki x f!reader wc. 0.66k tw. kissing , reader is kinda oblivious genre. fluff ( CATALOGUE )
the first time riki almost told you he loved you, you were in the school library. your chin was propped up in the palm of your hand as you exasperatedly stared down the physics problems before you.
a smile tugged at his lips when you furrowed your brows in frustration, groaning out for the tenth time that hour.
he shook his head at you, pulling your pencil from your tiny fingers. " you're doing it wrong. look, " he could have sworn he stopped breathing when you lifted your head to look at his book, quite literally invading his breathing space.
vanilla and coconut; that's what you smelt like. though it was a bit creepy to smell you, riki promised it wasn't on purpose.
" riks ? did you fall asleep ? " your fingers snapping in front of his eyes made him fall out of his daydreams. your hand brushed gently against his and he tightened his grip around the pencil. any tighter and he would have broken it.
the second time riki almost told you he loved you, he was watching you dance at prom with another boy. he felt a pang of hurt crash into him as he watched you giggle and smile at the boy's words. you only ever laughed like that with him.
" ni-ki, calm down or soon, the whole school's going to know you like her. " heeseung's hand on his shoulder was the only thing keeping him grounded as he clenched his jaw at the sight in front of him.
he ignored your calls as he turned and left without a second thought. he was going to go absolutely insane if he kept these feelings inside any longer.
the third time riki almost told you he loved you, the two of you were watching the sunrise after your graduation. he stared at you in awe; the sunlight striking your face and hair made you look ethereal.
you giggled at the way he was obviously admiring your beauty before turning back to the wonderful view. " i'll miss you when we go off to college, riks. a lot, i mean. "
riki, of course, had thought about it longer than anyone else.
but for now, he opted for wrapping a hand around your shoulder and pulling you close, trying his best to enjoy the moment. he would miss you the most. he would miss his bestfriend.
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three years apart had done nothing to the feelings riki had been secretly harboring. the distance had only made them stronger. now he was fresh out of college, and at the moment, watching you run towards him at a scary speed.
" riks ! " he had come to your house even before putting any of his things back; he had to see you. he chuckled as he felt your arms wrap around him, hugging you back without hesitation.
both of you had grown. riki was now taller than the eiffel tower, as you put it, and you had grown into your features. but you were both the same people.
he was the same riki that fell in love with you, and you were the same girl he fell in love with seven years ago.
now, he watched with a smile as you downed a bottle of soju, wiping your chin. the two of you decided to visit your spot, the place you always hung out at when you were still in school.
it was like deja vu, he thought to himself. yet again, he admired you as the wind blew your hair across your face, your face glowing in the evening light.
before he could even think about what he was saying, the words fell from his mouth. " i'm in love with you, yn. " he glanced at you, you paused your actions midway to look at him in shock. " you ... what ? "
no take backs now. mustering up all the courage he had, which was basically none right now, he delicately took your soft hand in his considerably rougher one.
" i love you. i have since freshman year when you hit me in the head with a ball and smiled at me like an idiot. yn, i- " he had never felt as much relief as he did right now, when you pulled him closer and pecked his lips lightly.
" you idiot, why have you never said anything ? all these years i felt like an idiot for falling in love with my best friend. " he breathed out a sigh, finally being able to embrace you, his head resting in the crook of your neck.
his only regret was not telling you he loved you those three times.
taglist : @so-lychee @bambisnc @mellowdyverse
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va1entinesg4l · 1 day
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full of surprises pt.2
☆ pt. 1
pairing: charles leclerc x reader x max verstappen
summary: now that the world knows who the fathers are, what would the public think?
warnings: none except poor translations of french!
“Max! Charles! Is it true that you both are the fathers of y/n’s child?”
“Are you three a throuple?”
“Is Lestappen real then?”
Questions were being asked every single day and both Max and Charles were desperate to answer them. But despite their management being strict with their reputation, they were forced to stay silent.
“Max will be the father of y/n’s child. In public, of course.” that’s what both managers of the boys agreed on. They decided to clear things up with Max being your partner and the father of your child. So in every or any public events which the drivers will be attending, the arm around your waist, is Max’s.
Charles’s heart sank when they told him that. How could he just watch both the love of his life act all happy and in love from afar. He wasn’t just hurt, but betrayed.
The child is Charles’s as much as it’s Max’s. Why should he be kept away from them?
“This isn’t going to work. I’m not doing this.” Charles says sternly, giving you and Max a serious look as he paces around the hotel bedroom. Max crosses his arms with a heavy heart as he watches Charles, he knew what Charles was feeling but who was he to deny that this whole media bullshit was wrong?
You take Charles’s hand as you reassure him, “We just have to deal with this for a few months, mon amour..” Charles shoots you a glare at that and argues, “A few months? I can’t even deal with this for a minute.”
He yanks his hand away from yours as he mutters a ‘fuck’. Then a knock came on the door, Charles’s manager speaking.
“Car is ready, be down in five.”
There was a charity event held by Ferrari and every driver was going. With you being ‘just’ Max’s partner for the cameras, you knew shit might happen tonight.
Max takes your hand as he gives Charles one last glance before heading to the car downstairs with you, Charles following 5 minutes behind as he gets into another car.
You and Max, and Charles both arrive at a different time to avoid any attractions but once you get out of the car, cameras start flashing and questions about your relationship with the boys were once thrown again.
The security leads you both inside the building away from the cameras. The event crowded with people, the Williams drivers chatting along with the Mercedes drivers. Ferrari’s team principal, Fred, talking with Toto.
Max keeps his arm around you as you both try to look for Charles and there he was, alone as he smiles at the people who were greeting him. The smile which was fake and only filled with sadness.
Your heart ached just by watching him being alone, Max couldn’t look at him, it felt like it was his fault, it should’ve been him in Charles’s position.
Charles finally spots you and Max and he looks away, forcing a smile as he engages in conversation with the others to distract himself.
Charles sat at a different table, his expression blank as he holds a new glass of champagne after each empty ones. Speeches went on for hours and Charles just wanted to leave, he couldn’t help but steal glances at you and Max, seeing how close you both are, every touch he gives you, every kiss. In his mind, it felt real. it felt like he wasn’t always the one you and Max loved most.
It was finally Charles’s turn to give a speech after Carlos’s and from the way some of the buttons of his dress shirt was undone, he was drunk.
“Hi.. everyone.” Charles slurs slightly, clearing his throat before continuing. You stare at him from your seat and you felt as if Charles might say something he might just regret.
“I wanted to thank everyone who joined this event tonight. As you all know, Ferrari has been my dream since i was a child and i would’ve never made it this far if it weren’t for my father and Jules.” He stops his sentence, his breath ragged which could be heard through the speakers.
His eyes then land on you and Max, his jaw clenched slightly before speaking again.
“But tonight I wanted to tell everyone something. Three years ago I would’ve given up this career if i hadn’t met y/n, she made something inside of me spark again and it was like a gift from god.”
“Since then i’ve fallen in love with her, but also with someone i’ve never thought of loving.” He shifts his gaze to Max and he swore he saw Max’s eyes soften.
“Max is a wonderful person. Anyone who’s ever seen him as a bad guy for being a winner on track will never understand. J’aime y/n et Max. I love y/n and Max. So yes, the three of us are in love and happy together. The child y/n is carrying is mine as much as it’s Max’s. Which yes, both Max and i are the fathers of y/n’s child.”
A few gasps and murmurs came from the crowd but you could see the other drivers of the grid putting proud smiles on their faces, your heart bursting with happiness at Charles’s confession. Charles gives a drunken smile at the crowd before slurring his words again.
“Et si quelqu'un a un problème avec ça, vous pouvez gentiment vous faire foutre.” And if anyone has a problem with that, you can kindly fuck off.
He stumbles off the stage and Carlos immediately helps him. You run over to him as Max helps him up as well, taking him to the restroom to freshen up.
He was slowly sobering up after Max had forced him to drink four glasses of water and he sits down on the floor, his back slumping against the wall as he chuckles to himself, saying.
“I couldn’t give two fucks about what the media would say but at least now they know the truth.” You and Max look at him but before you both could even say a word, he plays with the ring that was recently worn on his finger.
“Alors maintenant, pouvons-nous en finir avec ça et planifier notre mariage?” So now can we get this over with and plan our wedding?
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
im sorry it took WEEKS for me to finish this but my exams are over, thank god. 😭 this really wasn’t the ending i wanted to write since i was suppose to write a part 3 but i couldn’t keep you guys waiting anymore so i wrote the ending and everything in this part. i love you guys for reading & thanks for being patient!!
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madwcman · 1 day
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Hi sweetie (can I call you that? Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable) can I request something that goes like poly marauders x slytherin reader where they figure out they like reader and reader also likes them back but she feels like they don’t like her that way. Angst with fluff something like. Is okay if you can’t take care of yourself <33
a/n: i want to start off and say thank you for requesting and im so sorry i’m posting this late! but i hope you enjoy, this is my first time writing ploy! marauders so please be kind. also i’m not uncomfortable by you calling me sweetie!! :)
pairing: poly! marauders x slytherin! reader
having a crush on three out of the four marauders was just absolutely dense on your half. not only were you a close friend of theirs but james, sirius and remus were in a relationship together, joining in an already formed relationship seemed foolish to you. especially since they were so happy together. you gathered that james, remus and sirius just couldn’t see you in a romantic light.
so you decided to avoid them the best you could. and it wasn’t really that hard. considering you were a slytherin, you just hid in your dorm most of the time. other times where you would see the boys you would just ignore them. if they waved, smiled or even called out your name you would ignore them. and run in the other direction away from them.
“dove, you’re avoiding us.” you look up from the book you were reading and see remus, james and sirius standing in front of you in the library. you’re surprised they’re all in the library, especially james and sirius considering they hate to be quiet and being quiet is the mandatory rule in the library.
“i don’t know what you mean.” you mutter quietly, looking back to your book. avoiding their narrow eyes. “yes you do.” sirius, speaks sourly as you hear the chairs scraping against the floors. looking back up, you see sirius and remus have taken a seat across from you while james sits beside you with a strained smile. “no sirius, i don’t.” you snap back, closing your book. you start to gather your things ready to take your leave to avoid the boys once again.
“will you please just talk to us?” you turn to james, as you stand from your chair. his hair is a little messy from him running his fingers through it, his face looks more red than usual. he looks at you with an angry face. he’s angry with you. “we just want to know what we did.” he waves his hand around between him, sirius and remus. you look at each of the boys with anticipation. you finally let out a sigh and sit back down.
“are you going to talk to us now?” remus asks, he sounds and looks hopeful. you shake your head miserably. this will surely end your friendship with the boys. “well are you going to explain?” sirius ask,
“i’ve been avoiding you three because i want to be with you guys romantically.” you admit, with a gloomy tone. “oh.” they all speak at the same time. you start to tear up and wait for them to reject you. and then later on break up the friendship you guys had. “dove, what’s wrong?” you hear remus get up from his seat across from you and bend down beside you. “dove?”
“are you guys going to stop being friends with me?” you mumble out. closing you eyes. “no, why would we honey?” james ask, rubbing your back softly. “because you guys don’t feel the same.”
“we never said that.” you hear sirius speak, he standing beside remus, he’s not good with comforting but you hear the worry in his tone. you can see he’s trying his best. “what?” you look up from your lap. to look at sirius in disbelief. “we’ve never said that, love.” sirius tells you sweetly, as he moves to bend down with remus.
“we’ve all have actually liked you for a while now.” james admits. “we’ve been meaning to tell you, but you’ve been avoiding us.” remus explains. laughing a little at the situation you guys were in. “oh,” you utter dumbly to yourself. sirius laughs, you feel a little embarrassed but can’t help but smile at yourself.
i’m sorry.” you laugh out, still nervous and embarrassed for avoiding them. you feel slightly silly. “there's no need to apologize,” james rushes out, feeling bad at the thought that you needed to apologize to them. “but you could make it up by going on a date with us.” sirius smiles as he moves in to kiss your cheek.
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itsbecomeblue · 2 days
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glue 002 ellie williams imagine
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don't dare forget about palestine
sinopse: you might have a crush on your friend, college!au
cw: swearing, basically fluff, ellie plays soccer, puppy love again because that's my thing, slightly nerdy loser!ellie, reader and ellie are oblivious, not explicit if reader is fem or masc, not exactly proofread.
you had been up all morning, not up really, awake. it was 11:43 when you actually got up, sick to your core. niyah had checked on you before she left for her classes, leaving you some cash for lunch, it's not like you didn't have any but niyah just felt like a mom sometimes. she also gave you a forehead kiss.
you rubbed your eyes while your other hand hugged your aching stomach. you grabbed your phone and squinted at the brightness of the screen.
“shit fuck.” you hissed, boy did your head hurt. you had suspicions that ellie had made so much nervousness pile up in you that it was threatening to explode your head and your poor stomach.
you had always been a little… anxious and got nervous when you hung out with new people, especially without your best friends. they were your safe space, you smiled sweetly thinkin about them, so you read over the texts on your group chat ‘take ur meds’. never the instagram one, because it's just your friend luana spamming instagram reels.
you laughed at your phone, turning it off just to wait for your friends to show up, you knew they would. you grabbed a piece of fruit and sat down again.
you grabbed your little notebook where you did all of your journaling, you always read some pieces before actually writing in it, so you did that. ‘ellie’ this ‘ellie’ that, from just last night before you got sick. but maybe you had already been sick from the moment she stepped into the room.
sick in your stomach, crippling nervousness. you and ellie hung out so much 1 on 1, so you assumed that's what happens when two anxious people get together to talk alone, even though you had known each other for a while now. you didn't give it much thought, well maybe you did. you wrote in pink ink...
‘she's so cute’ ummm late night thoughts were so funny to read over, right? just hilarious. ‘ellie williams #8’ adorned with stars and hearts? you were already sick last night, for sure!
on the other side of campus, ellie was at class but her mind was on the same side of campus as yours. ellie was very much in tune with her feelings for you, she'd say. ‘we're so awkward, we need to get closer!’ that's all you two needed, right? just that. she sighted, you looked at her adorned name in your notebook, she imagined your face adorned with flowers and asteroids?
she needs to pay attention in class! she'll think about you later, she wants to text you but she'll see you at lunch anyways so she decides against the text. ellie tried her best to focus on her boring class, impatiently waiting to see you again.
abby had texted you a few to let you know she was coming over, she was your childhood friend, inseparable at that. caring and loving, gentle giant abigail anderson. she was now on your carpet in front of you bed.
“so, did you take your meds?” she laughed, abby was a med student and definitely a good one but damn her she didn't know shit about pharmacy.
they might’ve teached her some of it, but this girl had very selective memory, it's not like you know what they teach at med school anyway. but you still thought she should cure you everytime you got sick, all your other friends agreed too.
“yep, i looked it up. turns out my friend being in med school doesn't serve me anything.” you stretched my leg to touch her with your feet and she gave you a disgusted look.
“you're such a bitch to me, i came to see you, sick girl.” she grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you with no force.
“abbyyy!” you laughed and tried yanking your feet back and she used more of her strength. she laughed with you and you felt less sick.
you two kept it up until you were falling off your bed onto her, she grabbed your torso, manhandling you so you looked at her. she looked mischievous, she had something up her sleeve.
“how's our favorite soccer star?” she smirks and you look scared, head jumping up and hitting hers. “hey! ouch lil girl…”
she soothed her head before soothing yours, with harsh pats... you weren't sure if she was soothing you or actively making it worse. you both laughed again, what the hell was wrong with you? you had slipped out of her thighs and sat on the carpet, right next to her.
“she's…” you coughed. “she's alright, i saw her yesterday.” you nodded to yourself and abby nodded back.
“right… right…” abby stared at you, smirk still in her lips, waiting for something.
you thought of what she might’ve wanted you to say. you used your brain so much that you realized something, eyes widened and eyebrows furrowed.
"what? you look like you developed your first thought.” she chuckled and you looked frightened.
“i forgot to tell her i'm sick.” you searched for your phone around the carpet and the bed.
“why would you have to tell her?” abby leaned back, watching you look for you phone.
"you know, even if she was a nurse in your wet dream, i don't think she can help.” she added when you ignored her.
“abby.” you actually slapped her nape and she hissed. “we were supposed to have lunch together, i don't wanna be rude and leave her hanging.”
“oooohh you're bailing her on your lunch date.” abby loved pressing your buttons and she knew which ones to press.
“yeah, our date at the campus cafeteria, abigail.” you found your phone under a pillow, one that you were sure you checked before. whatever, you texted ellie.
“abigail is crazyyy…” abby got up and peeped your phone from behind and you pushed her face, the fat on her cheek smushed. “sweetness, let me see.”
abby had a big sweet tooth growing so when you became friends, her dad started calling you tooth and sweetness, since she could never get enough of you. she clinged to it even now, when she was being nice but really often when she pissed you off.
“fine, tooth.” you caressed the cheek you had pushed. she laughed and playfully bit your shoulder as you turned off your phone.
“it's fine, y/n. she'll understand, of course.” abby slurred, you turned to her.
“yeah, i know. i wanted to see her though.” you rubbed your nose sitting on the carpet again, followed by abby.
“you'll see her soon, it's alright.” she patted your head and you looked at her blankly. “what? don't wanna see me too?” she pushed you head and snickered.
“i do, stop abby!” you laughed, pushing her back.
“you gotta crush and now you're gonna abandon me and lua.” she shook her head. “you won't abandon niyah because you live with her, but who knows! you might move in with ellie.”
“what are you even talking about?” you chuckled at her while she tried to maintain a serious face. “i'm not abandoning anyone.”
"AHA! so you do have a crush on ellie, lil girl…” she laughed loud, slapping her knee, now it was your turn to maintain a serious face while she laughed.
“first, you’re not funny. second, i don't have a crush on anyone.” she arched her eyebrow you held her temples, pressing her eyebrows back to their place. “stop, i don't”.
“be for real with me, pookie wookie.” you cringed hard with her.
“you can leave.” you both laughed so loud until she stopped and tapped your lap. “but she makes me nervous.”
“i know she does, might be something, don't you think?”
“mmm, i don't think so, we're both pretty anxious people so…” you shrugged and abby did too, she'd never pry.
“you might be right, time will tell.” she casually says as gets up. “you wanna order some? “i'm hungry.” you nod and she takes her phone out.
ellie on the other hand, is frowning at your texts, she's upset she won’t see you and she's upset you're sick. she immediately texted her friends dina and jesse about it, asking to have lunch with them instead.
she'd waited for them to meet up with her on campus, holding her phone. she wanted to text you again, but you probably needed rest so she opted out to spam texting cat, who wouldn't reply to the groupchat texts. cat was a fucking ghost most of the times, even when they dated... girl gets busy. when dina and jesse finally got there they walked together.
“y/n bailed on you, damn.” jesse shook his head ironically and dina rolled her eyes.
“shut up, jesse.” dina tickled his ear and smirked. they were walking towards the local subway.
“yeah shut up, she's sick dude.” ellie replied, with little to no humor.
her friends noticed. her hands were in her jeans pockets and she was looking down, jesse and dina knew her all to well to know she was even just slightly upset. childhood friends are like that, you'd know. abby was exactly like that with you.
“what's wrong?” jesse asked, palming her shoulder. dina stopped walking but ellie kept going, making them get back to walking too.
“nothin’. it's dumb, i just miss y/n or whatever.” ellie slurred, looking at her sneakers. jesse and dina chucked and she snickered.
“okay, okay. my bad.” jesse looked sternly at dina so she'd stop laughing. “you had plans?”
“actually yeah, i was gonna invite her to see me play saturday.” she looked up.
“it's wednesday, man. you can ask her later.” jesse started. “right?” he looked for ellie's eyes.
“as in a date?” dina asked, not afraid to. ellie was always open with them, she wasn't embarrassed by her feelings even though sometimes she was confused.
“nah, not a date. and yes i can ask later, but i get nervous and… i dunno.” she held her fingers as she sighed.
“just say it, els.” dina chuckled, jesse and ellie chuckled back.
“yeah, alright. i want her to see me play but i get nervous to ask and i thought i’d do it today.” ellie laughed at herself. dina and jesse nodded, they understood her.
“it's alright, you will ask. don't worry, she's gonna be thrilled.” jesse slapped ellie's back and dina looked at him in disgust.
"thrilled" dina mocked jesse, holding her fingers up as quotes.
they all busted out laughing as they got closer to the subways shop, talking about the saturday game, but never distracted ellie from the thoughts of you.
taglist: @mikellie @amberputh @ellslvr @elliesactualgirlfriend @macaroni676 @onlinelesbo @aispike @kalyxvfx @ellieschair
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