#lucky man season 3
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rainbow-sunshine-unicorn · 28 days ago
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Thinking about how Anthony Bridgerton’s forehead crease
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The one that doesn’t even go away when he’s sleeping
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Only fully disappears when he’s kissing Kate
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b3y0ndm3asur3 · 6 months ago
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2023 jonny really went back and forth having sex scenes with simone ashley and matt bomer
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thethiefandtheairbender · 10 months ago
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endless list of otps: (remake) Callum and Rayla, The Dragon Prince
To have that kind of strength, it's not enough to love someone. You have to trust them to share the burdens you carry. [...] Callum, there's a... burden I'm carrying, and I've kept it a secret. And maybe that's part of what's made things weirder with us. But I think—I know that I trust you to help me carry this. If you're okay with that? Rayla. We've been through a lot together. And a lot has changed. Well, some things have changed—but not everything: I would do anything for you.
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nigeltheshark · 2 months ago
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Nigel's Art-cade Season 5 (2024)
Normally, I would've posted it at the end of the year, but knowing I'll be very busy during university and it's commitments, yeah. Lmao.
This was by far the most challenging recap poster to make, trying to sandwich all 57 characters into one vertical poster but I'm happy I managed to do it!
Season 6 will happen, just likely not in a year or two lmao. But until then, thanks for sticking by!
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gamocalypse · 9 months ago
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My god, news about One Punch Man Season 3... It's been decades. Centuries. Millennium.
IM SO HAPPY
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stars-n-spice · 7 months ago
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I started watching TBB with my mom...
So my family's got this tradition where every Friday we eat pizza because my mom is an absolute pizza addict and needs it every week.
It's been like,, idk, eleven years of us doing this?? And I think once the Mandalorian started streaming we would have Pizza Fridays and also watch whatever show was streaming at the time; Star Wars, Marvel, Cobra Kai, etc...
ANYWAYS!
Recently we haven't watched anything because I watch Bad Batch on my own but when I was talking to her about it she brought up wanting to watch it too. At first, I was like,, "Seriously??" because I didn't think she cared all that much about my silly animation shows, but she was serious. However, she wanted to start at Season 3. I was like, "Weird choice, but alright. We can work with that."
My younger brother who also enjoys the show hadn't been able to watch the new season either so I was like,, "okay why not?" I need him to see it so I can scream about it to someone physically, y'know?
We watched the first four episodes last night and I kid you not,, fucking five minutes into it my mom was like,, "They LOST their kid?? What a bunch of losers."
It was so uncalled for and I cannot wait for her to find out they lost her for a SECOND time :')
She was like, "No wonder they're called the Bad Batch, they're bad at their job."
Tried to defend them by saying, "Hey, cut them some slack they lost their mom of the group and the smart one," but she just went, "Erm, actually-"
She enjoyed it though and said it was fun. And my brother was so distressed over the time skip I thought he was going to cry.
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abitcaughtinthemiddle · 5 months ago
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No one can convince me this season was not the most fucking romantic thing I’ve ever seen.
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Colin + his (many) love confessions for Penelope
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doux-amer · 7 months ago
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Sick of this stupid team making the stupidest mistakes and sloppiest passes and their laziness and slowness on the ball and lack of finishing ability. I'm angry at Quansah, but once again, just like our matches against other big clubs, this is down to the whole team being miserably bad. Genuinely wondering if this team even wants to win the league for Klopp before he goes because they sure don't play like it.
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honoviadakai · 9 months ago
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Badly summarizing Hazbin Hotel songs: season 1
Happy Day In Hell:
Local nepo baby is very optimistic for someone who was born and raised in hell but damn it if you don’t find it a little endearing.
Hell Is Forever:
Your gut feeling about the pastor’s son was correct and he is indeed an annoying prick who likes to act God’s always got his back.
Stayed Gone:
Demon Jeff Bezos finds out his Ex is in town, isn’t happy about it and tries to slander the man only for his ex to immediately clap back and serve everyone some piping hot tea.
It Starts With Sorry:
Some of ya’ll are way too forgiving and it really shows…you’re lucky you dorks are adorable.
Respectless:
A 4’11 Millennial bitch serves absolute ✨CUNT✨ at a meeting she didn’t want to attend, local MILF is not amused.
Whatever It Takes:
A MILF and a lesbian sing about how they’d willingly die for the ones they love. It’s sweet but deeply concerning.
Poison:
Local twink took “conceal, don’t feel” way too seriously and now you’ll never be ok again. Have fun in therapy.
Loser Baby:
A DILF and a twink sing about how they’re the biggest losers in hell and it’s the sweetest fucking thing you’ll ever see in your god damn life.
Hell’s Greatest Dad:
2 grown ass men fight for custody over a grown ass woman.
More Than Anything:
The literal king of hell loves his child more than your father will ever love you and you just gotta live with that.
Welcome To Heaven:
The polite Christians are trying to convert you, but they’re really good at show tunes so I ain’t even mad.
You Didn’t Know:
Vindication for everyone who’s the black sheep of their family and now have religious trauma.
Out For Love:
Local MILF hypes up her newly adopted lesbian daughter by telling her love is the ultimate murder weapon.
Ready For This:
Local nepo baby discovers that the fastest way to get cannibals to fight for you is through show tunes and the promise of flesh.
More Than Anything (Reprise):
No, the two leading females are not “just really close friends.” You were told well before this moment.
Finale:
While the main cast is having a Bob the builder moment, 3 local bastards are promising to fuck shit up next season and the person you least expected is having a mental breakdown in the break room.
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fastandcarlos · 6 months ago
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Living With The LeClercs » Charles LeClerc
Summary: take a peek into the life of the leclerc family and see what they get up to
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liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,402,505 others
charles_leclerc: off season complete ✅ batteries are recharged after yet another amazing holiday with the fam
39,503 comments
scuderiaferrari: looking forward to having you back with us next week charles 🏎️
landonorris: i refuse to accept that y/d/n is yours, she's too beautiful to have your genes
ynusername: @/landonorris she just takes after her mother instead 😇
username1: nooooo, f1 season means we get less dad pics from you charles
username2: i don't ever want the dad charles era to end 😭
ynusername: thank you for the best three months, i couldn't wish for a better dad to our little humans 💕
schecoperez: you're putting me to shame with all these adorable snaps, i better start uploading too
lance_stroll: calling dibs on being first to offer babysitting during the season btw
danielricciado: @/lance_stroll you take one i'll take the other, mini charles' are a lot to handle
lance_stroll: @/danielricciardo you've got yourself a deal
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liked by scuderiaferrari, landonorris and 832,420 others
charles_leclerc: race day is always better with these two babies causing chaos 🥰
29,908 comments
carlossainz55: as cute as your children are, can you hurry up and stop uploading to instagram...some of us have got meetings
username3: y/s/n is hands down the coolest kid at the paddock this weekend
username4: why do i get the impresson project leclerc jr is well underway with y/d/n 🤔
oscarpiastri: STOP SHOWING OFF HOW BEAUTIFUL YOUR FAMILY ARE 😡
maxverstappen1: maybe y/s/n will have a better chance of beating me to the top of the podium than you
charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 one day...he's got his eyes on you! apparently you're his favourite driver
maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc tell him that he's got excellent taste
ynusername: not you promoting letting toddlers get behind the wheel of high speed cars 🙄
danielricciardo: if you're looking for a coach, you know who to ask
charles_leclerc: @/danielricciado you think i'm not capable of coaching my son
danielricciardo: @/charles_leclerc sure...but if you want him to learn from a proper driver, just gimme a call 😂
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liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and 294,405 others
ynusername: following this man around all day, trying to keep the kids from hugging daddy is a hard day’s work (see second pic for proof 😂)
12,492 comments
landonorris: if charles isn't interested, tell the kids that uncle lando will always be ready for a cuddle
iamrebeccad: i've never done so many steps before, who knew chasing after 3 year olds was such hard work 💫
ynusername: @/iamrebeccad i did try to warn you!! you should've listened
pierregasly: he's just tryna play it cool y/n, he isn't as cool as he used to be
username5: imagine being lucky enough to walk around the paddock and just see y/s/n and y/d/n everywhere
kevinmagnussen: tell them to have a sniff of charles after being in a race car for 2 hours y/n...that will soon be enough to put them off 💩
lilymhe: i want them to chase me and give me all the cuddles in the world
username6: you just know in any free moment charles is secretly looking around wanting his kids back beside him
username7: everyone say thank you to y/n for yet another round of hot dad charles pics 🙏🏻
oscarpiastri: why can't you hug me as lovingly as you hug your son? you're supposed to me my dad too
charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri "adopted"
oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc IT ALL STILL COUNTS
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liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri and 829,407 others
charles_leclerc: like father like son…the leclerc smile is deadly
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username8: officially the cutest photographs to ever be uploaded to the internet 🥺
username9: excuse me charles leclerc you cannot just spring photos like this on us without warning
oscarpiastri: i smile like this too...family?? 🥰
maxverstappen1: if i had to pick y/s/n definitely looks cuter
username10: i was not emotionally ready for this adorableness 💔
carlossainz55: deadly?? you look like the squishiest marshmallow
username11: @/carlossainz55 i think you've been spending too much time on the internet 😬
ynusername: my two favourite boys, how did I ever get so lucky?
charles_leclerc: @/ynusername there's no way you're the lucky one, that title belongs to me mi amor
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liked by ynusername, carlossainz55 and 527,492 others
charles_leclerc: I’ve been posting a lot about my human kids recently, so here’s a shoutout to my other child so he doesn’t feel left out
43,482 comments
oscarpiastri: damn i almost thought that this post was gonna be about me
charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri i swear one more comment and i will block you, son or not
landonorris: how dare you mistreat leo like this
username12: @/landonorris #justice4leo
username13: charles leclerc...father of 3
ynusername: leo could never be forgotton, he's our favourite four legged child
alex_albon: @/ynusername also your only four legged child 🤔
estebanocon: cute kids, cute dog...how do you do it leclerc??
yukitsunoda0511: asking for a friend...do your kids also poo in the middle of the paddock or just your dog
username14: @/yukitsunoda0511 YUKI not you stitching charles up like this! 😂😂
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liked by estebanocon, lance_stroll and 728,493 others
charles_leclerc: my favourite things to do, being a dad with a bit of gaming too 🥺💕
53,684 comments
ynusername: where does being a husband rank in all of them??
charles_leclerc: @/ynusername you’re still my number one 😍
username15: if charles won't appreciate you come and marry me instead
maxverstappen1: so bad at fifa you've resorted to table football i see 🫢
carlossainz55: don't worry charlie, i'll beat you at that kinda football too
username16: not you forgetting the woman that gave you those two adorable humans charles 🤦🏻‍♀️
username17: public apology incoming
danielricciardo: and you just happened to be playing table football with your top off did you? 🤔
charles_leclerc: @/danielricciardo it was all just coincidence...promise
georgerussell63: charles leclerc giving the fan girls what they want since 2018
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liked by lewishamilton, landonorris and 842,348 others
charles_leclerc: appreciation for the wife so she doesn’t get jealous 😂 I love you honey, thank you for our perfect family ✨🔥
53,372 comments
carlossainz55: if you heard him gush about you as much as i do y/n you'd know there is never anything to be jealous of
ynusername: @/carlossainz55 what sorta thing does he say?? 🤔
charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 do not throw me under the bus like this!!
landonorris: one of you looks perfect, the other looks like he needs a haircut and to sort his beard out
username18: i hope you know how lucky you are charles
username19: how does y/n manage to look that good running around after y/s/n, y/d/n and charles all day???
logansargeant: can you stop making all us single people feel even more single pls 😭
schecoperez: the second best family in formula one
danielricciardo: @/schecoperez SAVAGE! 💪🏻
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liked by ynusername, scuderiaferrari and 1,392,503 others
charles_leclerc: just a post to remind you all I can do both…no dad bod around here 🫢
101,372 comments
username20: DADDY!? 💦
landonorris: how many takes did it take you to get that shot in the gym?
carlossainz55: @/landonorris i was there...for several hours
username21: soft dad charles will always be my fave
ynusername: is there anything that you can't do? you take my breath away charles leclerc 💫💕
oscarpiastri: one day i hope to be as strong as you are...dad
charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri BLOCKED
alex_albon: i don't know who looks more tired, you or y/d/n
charles_leclerc: @/alex_albon me, definitely me, but i wouldn't change it for the world
 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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mangoshorthand · 3 months ago
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Five Hargreeves Meagalist
Hello, I write aged-up Five Hargreeves smut. Sometimes also not smut. But mostly smut. This is a compendium of my work.
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Request status: Closed Request info + rules
[Based on behaviour I have become aware of on here: I know saying 'don't plagiarise my shit' will do nothing to stop actual plagiarists, but just know that, if you do, you are no better than ChatGPT and will not see the light of heaven. It's okay to be inspired by another writer, but not okay to flat out use excerpts with a few of the words changed and then try to make money off it. You know who you are.]
One + Twoshots
Not Smut (G-M rated)
Tickle War | Five Hargreeves / GN Reader (Fluff)- Words: 1.5k
Dickhead Sugar Daddy | Five Hargreeves / GN Reader (Angst/Fluff)- Words 2.8k
Two Old Men | Five Hargreeves / GN Reader (Fluff)- Words 3.3k
No Blinking! | Five Hargreeves & 3 y/o daughter (Fluff) Words: 3k
Twelve Feet Away From the Mistletoe Part 1, Part 2 | Five Hargreeves / F Reader (Fluff, angst) Total words: 5.8k
Senseless | Five Hargreeves/ GN Reader 1.3k words, Rated T/M (Angst + steamy)
Strings Attached | Five Hargreeves / F Reader (Steamy angst)- Words: 4.8k
The Changeling | Five Hargreeves / F Reader, Five Hargreeves & 8 y/o daughter (hurt/comfort) Words: 7.7k
Smut (E rated/18+)
NSFW Alphabet | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader - Words: 2.4k
Two Items of Business | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader/ FReader- Words: 2.1k (kind of a crackfic. Not my best.)
Goddamn Darling | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader- Words: 2.1k
If Tonight Was Our Last | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader- Words: 2.4k (mild smut, probably between M+E ratings)
Boy Wonder | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader- Words: 2.7k
Lucky Fucking Pillow | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader- Words: 3k
In Your Hands | Five Hargreeves / GN Reader - Words: 3.1k
The Birthday Boy | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader- Words: 3.8k
Your Desperate Man | Five Hargreeves/ GN Reader- Words 2.8k
Venus and Cupid | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader- Words 4k (inc. fluff, romance, hurt/comfort)
The Birthday Girl | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader- Words 2.8k
The Pandas and the Conservationist Part 1, Part 2 | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader - Words 11.8k.
My Kind of Deli | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader - Words 8k.
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Series + Multichapter fics (best read on AO3)
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Hard Feelings (E rated/18+) : 6 parts
You're Five's latest assassination target, but things don't go to plan and now he wants you as his fuckbuddy. What starts as a casual relationship soon comes to mean everything to him, but what can Five bring to a relationship? After 45 years alone, (or almost alone), how do you rebuild your understanding of partnership? Five has to listen, learn and face the future as well as his past.
Includes: No Hard Feelings Before A Fall Flesh and Blood Arrow of Time After We Fall The Years Between (oneshot collection)
READ ON AO3 READ ON TUMBLR
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The Neurosis of Five Hargreeves (M/E rated): 2 Parts
Covering Five's readjustment to society post season 3. This series uses prose, monologues, transcripts, and case notes to explore Five's mental health demons, delusions, and recovery from decades of apocalypse trauma.
Not canon compliant. In this household, season 4 never happened.
Includes: Alias Number Five She
READ HERE
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The Moth and The Spider (E Rated): Please heed tags.
Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was the fear, or maybe some sick, twisted part of him was titillated. Even looking back, he never knew. In the dark of nights years in the future, he couldn’t help linking how it turned out to this one mistake. Perhaps if he’d fought her just a little longer, it might never have turned into what it did- perhaps it would never have gone beyond that first night. In fact, it seemed likely: that’s how he knew it was all his fault really.
The Handler knows Five will be a difficult agent to control, but she also knows how to exploit his weaknesses.
READ HERE
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Headcanons
Usually based on Tumblr asks:
SFW headcanons because I am capable of them y'know
Cooking
'Not like other girls' girls
Five hates himself
Five as the father of a son
S4 speculation
My dreams for Five in S4 (boy, was I disappointed)
Why Five's favourite word is "shit!"
What would Five look for in a partner?
Would Five be ok with not having kids?
A guide to flirting with Five
Five and Wordle
What did Five do in the apocalypse? (mention of masturbation- not graphic)
Five's enjoyment of murder
S/O stealing Five's jackets.
NSFW headcanons ah, safely back in my lane
NSFW alphabet
Five's relationship with the Handler (triggering content)
Five with a menstruating S/O (NSFW only because references sex)
Five + submissive pillow princess
Hargreeves brothers sharing sex tips
Five and flirtatious jokes (mild)
Mannequin banging: part 1 , part 2
Apocalypse sadwanks
Five eats pussy like a madman
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zyafics · 1 month ago
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HIII!!! I love ur writing sm <3 If you're taking requests, I was wondering if you could do one about a reporter reader who used to date Rafe but they broke up and now she has to interview him??? Set in college if possible! Thank you so much! I hope you're having a good day 🥰
hi baby! yes, i do take requests and i absolutely love this one 🥰 i made reader work for a network company but she's still in college and he plays basketball! (but fair warning, i know absolutely nothing about basketball so if i got the terminologies wrong, look away!!) i hope you enjoy <3 this is angsty as fuck
ALL FOR THE GAME | Rafe Cameron
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MASTERLIST (Oneshot) | College Basketball Player x Ex!Reporter!Female Reader .ᐟ
Content — college au, athlete/reporter, prior breakup, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort
Word Count — 4.2K
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You couldn't believe it.
It's considered lucky. For someone in your position—having received this entry-level job a couple of weeks ago—to have the opportunity to interview an athlete. In fact, many people would call it a great honor.
And it is. Under normal circumstances, you would be more than happy to oblige—elated, even—because people at this stage in your career rarely get such an opening. Especially since you're in college, fully prepared for this internship to be nothing more than grunt work.
Yet, this? This would allow you to advance your career at an expedited rate only offered to nepotism. You should be thrilled, overcome with joy, jumping at your feet and thanking whatever deity you believed in for such a chance.
But you don't.
Because the person to interview is Rafe.
Rafe Cameron, the top prospect of the NBA draft picks.
Rafe Cameron, your ex-boyfriend.
Your boss waits for an answer. He proposed the question a few moments ago, about covering the press conference for the last game of the season. Because of a sick reporter who called out at the last minute, your objective is to build a profile on Rafe Cameron. Since he's the leading prospect, with scouts all over the country looking at him, many people want to know more about the rising all-star who's done nothing but dominate the court.
This proposal, however, was done more out of common courtesy. No one would be stupid enough to say no, and when your boss raises a brow, signifying his manifesting annoyance from your silence and lack of celebratory cheers—you stammer.
"Um, um," you say.
"Um, what?" He prompts. "Will you be doing it or not?"
You shouldn't. There are many reasons why you shouldn't attend Rafe's basketball games. There's resentment because when you step back into that arena, back onto that court, you're reminded of how Rafe picked it over you. There's lingering sadness, residing heavily against the back of your heart, dulled from the passage of time, but not completely forgotten. And lastly, there's anger, because sometimes, all you want to do is scream, cry, and yell at the man who shattered your heart into a billion different pieces.
But that doesn't matter, does it?
Romance has no place in a reporter's life because you're nothing more but a projection for the audience, a vessel for the readers to learn about something else. You don't have feelings; you're a prop. And, certainly, it doesn't matter to your boss, who's only asking you because you're the last choice.
"Well?"
Seconds away from retracting the offer, something in your chest tightens. Logically, you know the choice to make. But your heart doesn't agree. It still hurts, aches, and burns at all of the past memories. It wants nothing more than to bury itself in a hole and pretend that such a critical part of your history does not exist.
But you can't. Life only moves forward. So, all you do is move with it.
"I'll do it."
By the time you arrive at the stadium, all you want to do is run. Anxiety pricks at your spine and your palms grow clammy by your side. Everything inside you is blaring like a warning, cautioning that this is a mistake, that you aren't ready, and that you should turn back.
Despite the badge dangling around your neck, you almost listen. Put your career on hold for a man who hasn't given a single thought about you since the breakup. You can't let him win, and with that reminder, you move with the mob, flocking to their seats.
The atmosphere is charged with exhilaration, and you're reminded of everything before. It's automatic. How easy it is for you to return to old patterns, to follow them, and to find yourself trickling down the steps and towards the courtside seats reserved for family and friends of the team.
Until a hand is placed on your lower back, and a security guard guides you to the press box instead.
It's quieter. The enclosure of the room dulls the energy of the crowd, with a thick sheet of glass separating you from the rest of the people, and reminding you of your purpose.
You take a seat on a cushioned chair, reserved for your network, and look around the place. You're among the most seasoned reporters in their field, chatting with one another, familiarity engulfing the air that somewhat alienates you. They pay you little mind—saved for a curious-yet-judgmental glance at how you wore a jersey compared to their formal suits and pencil skirts. When you follow their line of vision, you realize it wasn't an ordinary merch of the UNC team but Rafe's.
"Fuck," you mumble. You hadn't realized you picked out his jersey; it was left in the back of your closet and you couldn't see yourself attending your college's game without a visual form of support. This probably appears to the rest of the journalists that you're nothing more than a superfan who managed to weasel their way into their network.
It makes your stomach flips with nausea. You want to separate Rafe from you as much as possible, and with a quick run to the bathroom, you change out of the merch and throw it over your tote, straightening out your blouse underneath. When you return, the players are slowly filling out to court.
The visitors' team enters first; UNC follows. You count each player that exits the locker room, watching their expressions as they grin and absorb the energy of their home stadium, as they walk down the length of the bench, as they talk among themselves and share playful jests and banter. You didn't even know you were holding your breath until Rafe stepped out last, to the loudest cheer of the crowd, with a solemn look on his face.
You watch as Rafe searches the stands. Not in the same manner as his teammates, where they're acknowledging fans, or sending flirtatious winks to pretty girls sitting front row. It's different— with purpose. He's searching for something—someone—and your heart clenches in your chest at the thought of Rafe having found your replacement.
But it's been months, hasn't it? It should be more than fair game for him to date whatever he wants. You can still act professionally with this developing news, but it's striking down at your armor.
However, whoever he's looking for, he doesn't find. Rafe goes to huddle with the rest of his team as their Coach gives a final motivational speech before releasing them.
The game starts with a tip-off, and once the referee throws the ball in the air, Rafe takes it into his possession.
He sprints across the court, slicing through the opponent players, and scoring points on the board. Rafe is powerful, knowing exactly when to exchange his hands and pass to his teammates, where exactly to cut through, and when to commit to a play. Commentary heard from the built-in speakers can attest to it, as their primary focus is on how Rafe is taking the last game of the season by storm.
But, while everyone's eyes are glued to the game, as much as you try not to, you can't do anything but stare at Rafe.
He's just as incredible as he was when you were dating him; if not, more. In some way, it makes your heart tighten, knowing that this validates his reason for the breakup. You just wish he felt some semblance of the pain you feel. But as much as you hate it, you're also proud. Rafe has come so far, and trained so hard, to make it to where he is. If he secures a win for the last game, it will be nothing but a guaranteed track to the NBA and luxuries and fame ahead.
All without you.
By the time the game ended, Rafe scored the last shot in a close game, delivering the end of the conference with a secured UNC victory. Everyone in the press box stands from their seats, heading to the media room where they'll be meeting a panel of UNC athletes for questions.
Yet, you linger. You step up to the glass, watching as the erupted cheers of the audience surround the entire stadium, much to the glee of the UNC team, while Rafe stands in the middle of the court for a few seconds, soaking everything in. His eyes pan across the bleachers again, in search for something, before his expression falls and he retreats to the locker room.
When you enter the room of journalists, you slip into a seat. It'll be a while before the players come shuffling in, and you take each second to rehearse and calm your nerves. In one hand, is a tape recorder, while the other is a notepad of the written questions you plan to ask.
UNC's Publicist steps out first to provide an official statement and give a brief overview of the conduct of this press conference. She'll be the moderator, giving everyone enough time to ask all of their questions, and she'll be selecting the networks to her own accord. After everyone comes to the general consensus, the door opens and the Coach steps out with his players.
You watch with bated breath as Rafe is the last to enter, freshly showered and changed into grey sweatpants with a matching UNC zip-up jacket. His headphones dangles around his neck, while his expression exudes nothing but boredom and reluctance. Rafe has always hated interviews, especially post-games, during your relationship. At least that's the one thing that hasn't changed.
You drop your gaze to your lap, swallowing hard as you calm your racing heartbeat. It's been months, yet you still feel the same emotions coursing through you as if no time has passed—longing, hurt, sadness. You whisper positive affirmations, reminding yourself that it's just a job, and that'll be short and simple. You won't even have to speak to Rafe, because your boss may have said to find out more about Rafe Cameron for your profile, nowhere did he say you have to ask him specifically.
When Rafe sits on his chair, he lazily scans the room, a habit of his to pass the time, before he spots you among the crowd. In the third row, second seat; your favorite choice to sit. You don't see it, but a corner smile lifts to his face, demeanor changing, and he straightens up in his seat.
Throughout the conference, the publicist hands the microphone off to whoever she selects. They often direct their questions at Rafe, to which he gives monosyllabic and deadpanned answers. Then, when they try to seek more clarification, Rafe gives them nothing, much to their grimness.
You keep your head low, writing down notes, and drawing doodles on the edge of your notepad. Anything to avoid making accidental eye contact with Rafe. But, regardless, you feel him. The heat of his stare remains on you the entire time, especially when the publicist approach you and hands you the microphone.
It’s time.
With trembling hands, you stand from your seat. You turn your attention to the front of the panel, introducing yourself, your network, and your job. Smiles spread across Rafe's teammates as they recognize you, and you offer a polite one of your own.
Beginning at the furthest player at the end of the table, you ask, "How would you describe Mr. Cameron as a teammate?"
He grins as if he was prepared for this. "Rafe's an incredible teammate and captain. He's a capable leader, who's strong on the court, but also strong on having his teammates' back. You saw it back there—" That earns a small laugh from the reporters. "But, yeah. Rafe's one of my favorite teammates, if I'm being honest."
You tilt your head at that conclusion, because, if you remember correctly, in freshman year, he often rivaled with Rafe and got into fights over minor things. Regardless, you nod, thanking him for his response, and moving on to the next player with the next question.
"What do you think about Mr. Cameron's plays throughout the season?"
"Is that all you got for me, Mrs?" The second player teases playfully, causing heat to warm your cheeks. "Whatever, I got this. Well, let me think. Rafe's always had solid stats. He's one of the hardest-working players on and off the court, and he always keeps his head focused. Even when he had a bit of a bump a couple of months back, he adjusted his plays and bounced back. That’s his resilience."
Your breath hitches at the implication. You try your hardest not to sneak a glance at Rafe, but you can't help yourself. Turning to your side, you discover Rafe watching you, his expression grimacing at the confession of his teammate.
Months ago. The only thing that changed was your breakup. Does this mean he was as affected as you were?
You try not to think too much about that. Thanking the player again, you move to the next, asking more about Rafe's character—his prospects for the NBA, and his experience managing a student-athlete. You didn't ask just about Rafe, you asked about the games and conferences too, but most of the players always return their answers to Rafe. Positively. As if they had this unspoken agreement behind the scenes to hype Rafe up to his ex-girlfriend.
Time goes on, and you start to immerse yourself in the role. It wasn't as difficult as you expected, especially because you're entertaining a team who've known you all throughout their collegiate career. They answered the questions with enthusiasm and a playfulness that can only be recognized by years of familiarity. You can feel the energy from the reporters shift, stewed with envy, because of how the players are showing favoritism to a novice reporter who barely has her foot in the door.
Rafe watches you the entire time. How truly riveting you are in your role. How you command the room with your questions, how you captivate the players, and how you grow more comfortable as you talk to your teammates. He waits patiently as you make your way down the table, for his chance to talk to you.
But just as he's about to be next, you return the microphone to the moderator. You were going to leave him hanging. Before you can fully hand off the mic, a voice commands the room.
"What about me?"
It was Rafe. You lift your head to find him leaning against his own microphone propped on the table, his blue eyes pinned on you, his expression full of want. Your lips part, but no words fall through. The publicist doesn't take back the microphone.
You stammer. "What about you?"
"Don't you have any questions for me?" He questions, as the crowd murmurs with surprise. On any other day, Rafe would've gladly taken the lack of questions aimed at his face. You've done your research; you've seen his previous interviews.
"I..." You can't seem to answer him. All eyes—from the Coach, to the players (who are smiling their head off), to the reporters—turn to you. "I've asked all my questions."
"I'm sure you can think of one more," he declares, his eyes not once straying from your face. As if he's taking the time to memorize all of your features, to absorb any changes. "Come on, hit me."
Everyone waits. Eagerly. With jealousy. The media room stills with a palpable silence, and you can't do anything but retract your arm, holding the microphone back up to your lips.
You blink, racking your brain for any questions. You truly did ask all of them, and there's nothing appropriate enough to ask in front of a room full of people who are recording and monitoring your moves. So, you settle on something safe.
"How did you feel scoring that winning shot?"
Rafe takes a deliberate moment to consider his answer. His silence tells it all. Before he leans down against the mic, his lips centimeters from the pop filter, and he says, "Empty."
Flashes of the camera go off, and hushed whispers are heard throughout the room. But none of that matters to you. Your eyes remain on Rafe, your heart skipping beats from his confession, and you tame enough of your voice before asking a follow-up. "Can you explain why?"
He nods. "Basketball is great and all, and I'm grateful for everything that has happened, and all I have accomplished. Hell, I'm even grateful for this team right here that's been such a hardass on me since day one," he gestures to his teammates on the panel, and they all grin and laugh. One even blows him a kiss. "But, at the end of the day, it's just a game. Without the people you love by your side, it's meaningless."
You truly feel like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs and tears crowd your waterline. When his words finally deliver through, it's almost a straight shot to your chest. This was the admission you'd been waiting for, but it didn't feel satisfactory whatsoever. It's painful, all of the old wounds opening by their stitches, and grief comes crawling up your throat, demanding to be felt.
You don't answer him. You can't. Rafe watches you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction, trying to see if his words had any impact, but you hide them well. For now. With tears stinging your vision, and seconds from unraveling at the seams, you drop the microphone onto the chair and leave the room in a rush.
That's when he realizes he fucked up.
Rafe stands from his seat, ready to follow after you, but his Coach commands him to sit down. His gaze remains on you until you exit the room, but with direct orders, he can do nothing but slump back into his chair.
When Rafe finishes the rest of his interviews, with more reluctance than he had before, he wants nothing more than to go back to campus to search for you. But he doesn't know if that's such a good idea. Clearing out, Rafe steps out of the doors.
To where you were waiting.
"You had no right," you snap, as Rafe heads to the exit of the stadium. He whips around at the sound of your voice, finding you leaning against the wall. As much as he knows he fucked up, he can't explain the happiness he feels at seeing you still here.
"For what?" Rafe prompts with an easygoing smile, "Talking? I'm pretty sure that's what the press conference is about."
But you don't take it so easy.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," you huff, "You used my words against me."
During the breakup, Rafe had said something along the lines of focusing on his basketball career. You had rebutted that basketball can't be the one thing in his life. At the time, he disagreed, prompting the necessity of the breakup further. It had hurt to hear your words twisted and used against you.
"It was friendly," he reassures. "Just like the rest of my teammates. Talking like we're friends."
"We're not friends and you know that."
He frowns. "We said we would be."
"No, you said that," you hiss, clenching your hands by your side, memories slapping you and prickling your skin. "To rid yourself of the guilt, or to make it seem like permanent. I don't know. But it doesn't work that way with me, Rafe. We aren't friends."
His brows pinch together, and agitation flares through his hard features. "So, that's what it's gonna be like? You come to my games and you interview my entire team but you ignore me because we broke up? That's unprofessional."
You falter. "That's not fair."
"It isn't?" He challenges, stepping closer into your space. "How do you think I felt when you were interviewing every single one of my teammates about me, but refusing to talk to me? To look at me? What does that suggest?"
"That I got everything I needed from your teammates."
"You could've gotten it directly from the source."
"I didn't need to,"
"You could've,"
"Why are you so adamant about me talking to you?"
"Because you're acting like a vindictive bitch."
You stagger back as if he struck you, and Rafe instantly regretted the words that left his mouth. But he can't take them back. Your lips part, and you stare at him in disbelief, but you come up with nothing to defend yourself.
With the hardest glare you can muster, you proclaim, "Fuck you, Rafe."
And you turn to leave.
Rafe quickly follows after you. "Wait—that's not—I didn't mean that."
"I don't want to talk to you anymore."
"Just like you didn't want to talk to me in the conference room?"
"You broke up with me!" You snap, stopping in your tracks with such abruptness, that Rafe almost ran into you. Turning back around to face him, you say, "You were the love of my life, and you left me, and you expect me to keep it professional?"
Rafe says nothing.
"I'm trying," you croak, tears crowding your vision again, and you hate how vulnerable and pathetic you feel in his presence. Like it was back to that night in the car, where Rafe said it was over. "I'm trying to do this right."
Rafe watches your face with anguish, but he can't say anything. You're trying hard to keep your composure, and regain some semblance of stability, you say with a even voice, "I'm glad everything is working out the way you want it to. I'm glad you get this bigshot career and you're about to make it in the NBA, and I'm glad you found it so easy to move on but that's not how it worked with me." Your voice cracks. "I loved you. I can't just forget about it like it's nothing."
His voice is small when he answers. "I didn't."
"You didn't?" You repeat with disbelief. "Rafe, you're thriving. You barely look like our breakup had any impact on you. You're about to secure one of the biggest deals in NBA history. What else could you possibly be missing?"
"You."
His dark eyes connect with yours in utmost vulnerability and it cripples you. All your aggression and anger, all your pent-up frustration—it makes you upset that Rafe manage to disarm you with one word.
"No," you step back, shaking your head, "You can't do that."
"It's the truth."
"It's too late."
Rafe looks pained at your declaration. "Don't say that."
"Don't say what?" You sniffle, your vision blurring with hot tears. "My truth? Did you expect me to wait around for you to come to your senses? To beg for you to take me back?"
"I didn't..." Rafe stammers, searching your face for any indication that it isn't too late. That he still had a chance. But he doesn't find any. "I was honest back there. Any win without you feels empty."
"Stop,"
"I made a mistake."
"Rafe—" You shake your head again, sucking in a deep breath, and needing him to listen and step back. "I'm not here to talk about that. I don't want to talk about that."
"But I do,"
"But I don't," you declare firmly. "I just... I need you to understand. You can't do that. I'm trying to move on with my life. And I understand that we're going to be seeing each other, no matter how I don't want to. But I'll get used to it. I'll numb that pain. But you can't do that. Here; back there. It wasn't fair to me."
Your words sound too permanent. Too real. Rafe can't stand it.
With desperation, he pleads, "Can we talk?"
"We're already talking."
"No, I'm talking about us," Rafe says, taking a step forward. Only for you to take one back. "Please."
"There's nothing to talk about it."
"There's so much to say."
"Name one."
"I miss you."
"Rafe," you cry, tears streaming down your face that you can no longer contain. He hates seeing you cry. He hates it more to be the reason. All he wants is to pull you into his arms and apologize, over and over, to soothe the pain, but it looks as if it would hurt worse if he tried to touch you. "Please stop. You're breaking my heart again."
He made a mistake. There are so many times he can say that. When he saw you in the media room, for the first time in months, it came rushing back to what he's missing. How much he's losing you. He wanted to ask you so much—about how you're doing, to learn how you got the job, to uncover more about how close you are to achieving your dreams.
But he was barricaded. By responsibilities, obligations, and duties. He couldn't ask you in a room full of people. He couldn't help you when his father pressured him to break up with you for his career. He couldn't do anything, then. But he wants to do better now.
He says your name, so defeated, in a last-ditch effort. But you shake your head.
You need to leave this place with whatever is left of your pride and dignity. So, you straighten your spine, take out his jersey from your tote, and hand him the last remnant of your relationship. "Congratulations on your win, Mr. Cameron. I wish you the best in your career."
And when you turn to leave this time, he doesn't stop you.
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muntitled · 17 days ago
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CATCH | L. JENO
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Lycan!Jeno x afab!reader
➛ Summary: Perhaps making your uncontrollable boyfriend chase you was a bad idea after all
➛ Warnings: Language, Paranormal!au, Fluff, Established Relationship, Possessiveness, Doggy Traits, Ownership Kink (he owns you in his mind) Lycan!Jeno, Cat and Mouse game, Smut +18 (mdni), Mating Press, Rutting, Primal Kink, Praise Kink, Dry Humping, Neediness, Scent Kink, Dom!Jeno, Sub!Reader, Whimpering, Breeding Kink, PIV
<3 happy spooky season
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"I mean…" There's a quiet, stunned sound that leaves his lips as Jeno forces both his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. He gazes at you through his hooded eyelids. "Are you sure?" You weren't sure of anything, to be completely honest and neither was he. You explain this to him with a quirk of your lips as your fingers weaved through your laces, knotting them with a quickness before your game commenced...
"It's just," he releases more distraught, more nervous habits unconsciously overcoming his body in irregular and jarring spurts. You gazed up at him from bended knee, now preoccupied by tying Jeno's laces too, and you chuckled. "It's just what, Big Boy?"
There was a chuckle that broke across the once painfully serious cracks of his visage, his smile even brighter with the elation across his face. "You know it is... probably not smart to do this. You know I'm not going to be able to-” his ears perk up. “Tighter," he asks distractedly, "-could you tie the left one just a little tighter," Jeno stomped his left foot in indication, the shriveled leaves crunching ever so slightly under the leather soles of his sneakers.
You had never quite believed in the societal construct of a soulmate until you had met Jeno. Upon your union, it all seemed to fall so surreptitiously into place that a life before him had seemed utterly bland, and so completely... boring. There was warmth that seized the man's entire countenance and you put it all to very good use. Not a single tear was shed without Jeno curling into you, quite forcefully stuffing his large, masculine frame under your armpit under a very, very strict comfort policy.
And that was before you found out about his little… biological quirk.
He didn't really know where it came from, thethats that lived inside him. It had just always been there. Jeno kept the beast restrained on most occasions but that came with some dire repercussions: finding some bits of your furniture chewed up. Jeno promising to replace. His overt and unflinching loyalty was another facet of his quirk.
You could not show if anyone at work bothered you without Jeno tapping his foot anxiously against the floorboards of your shared apartment, chewing on the ends of his nails while the rest of him was seized in restlessness. "I'm not going to leave until you tell me," He would say, pushing the door of your bedroom open every time it threatened to close shut.
"Boundaries," You would yell, "Boundaries, Jeno! You don't have to know about every detail of my life!"
"I am respecting your Boundaries," he would say, sneering his nose up at that crude dirty word.
The word that wanted you to be away from him. The word that saw you two occasionally (frustratingly) separated.
Boundaries.
"I am respecting your boundaries," he would say from the doorways. "I haven't even set foot over the line once, even though you are very clearly upset." His sweet, slightly feral obliviousness would usually aid in washing away water grievances you had acquired from your work life or outside friendships, your life untouched by Jeno. Even his flaws held a nauseating dose of happiness. His forgetfulness, his altruism, his overthinking, his restlessness. There was not a single part of your Jeno that you did not drink up in admiration. You were lucky to have him.
"I don't really see what the problem is, Jeno." You continue, "It's not like- still, Jeno, could you keep your leg still? That's why I can't tie the knot too well," You pat down his jittery leg in what you hope acts as a sedative for his nerves. It works momentarily, truthfully he just loves having your natural body heat in such close range with his. He could feel it all radiating off your palm, through his slacks no problem. He zeroed in on that particular activity far too much and it illicited a wayward shiver that wracked through his body. "It's not like you're going to hurt me," You say, tugging on the bows you had fashioned out of his laces one final time before rising from the forest floor. You dust a layer of sticks and dead leaves from your exposed knee while Jeno continues his nervous tirade. "You dont know-"
"I do know. I know that you're capable of controlling yourself, Jeno. I know that you're in love with me. I know that you'd never, ever do anything to hurt me." Eye contact. If there was a single force in the entire known (and unknown), the whole goddamn multiverse included, that could rile Jeno up with the amount of pressure stored in an atomic bomb, it was the eye contact. You gaze up at him with nothing but trust blazing in your eyes as you sunk your grip into his hoodie. A hoodie he was particularly fond of, even hesitant to part with even though he knew it was a full moon.
"I don't like losing," He admits gravely as he lifts the hoodie over his shoulders, discarding it on the forest floor. You watch with slight excitement as your boyfriend's bare skin is illuminated by the moonlight. Leaving him in nothing but his grey basketball shorts and his sneakers
"It's too close to a full moon," His lips are but a mere inch away from you. You can hear his ragged breath. It's a sound that flows in sync with the natural cacophony of the woods, the hum of the fireflies and drum of the crickets, all hidden away, singing for the couple, perched under the waning moon.
"That's part of the fun though, isn't it?" You finally break eye contact but your periphery reveals a keen-eared, frozen-solid Jeno, still watching you with the transfixed gaze of a hawk. He's starkly aware of every single thing around you, his senses being at their most potent especially when he found himself in his natural habitat.
"You're not going to run away?" You nearly chuckle at that but you hold it in, quite enjoying the charged air that is buzzing between the two of you.
"Running away's the entire point, Baby," there is a richness in your vibrato that completely does him in. A sharp, distressing growl reverberates from his chest. It bleeds into a squeaky whine when you bury your fingers into his overgrown and rugged head of hair.
"Running from me. I mean, you're not gonna end up... running away from me... forever..." he all but slurs, eyes fluttering shut as you scratch the side of his head in a way that elicited a warmth in his very bones, the need to soothe that delicious itch in his very being was unparalleled. He craved more of your touch, he craved more of you-
"You get the rest when you get me." You state firmly, much to Jeno's dismay who releases another growl, much to the shame of his almost-human- non-human self.
"It'll be fun." You reassure the man as you begin to bounce lightly on the balls of your feet. You fill your lungs with the fresh and dewey air of the woodland fencing the both of you and you ready your limbs. Jeno begins to shake his head slowly, then much more furiously as he sees you beginning to break away.
"N-No, don't-" He clamps a large hand over his mouth but the growl is heard all the same. It has your eyes wideneing in glee as you move even farther away, breaking into a slight jump before speeding off into the thickness of the wood. A wave of nausea paired with excitement zings through his entire body at the sight of your whizzing frame and his legs move on their own accord.
You're fighting to dodge brambles and branches of every kind. Trees and their obnoxious arms crisscrossing overriding one another, causing you to bend at odd and athletic angles as you sprinted through the night-veiled wood. There was an eerieness to the open space, the vastness of it, yet the density that was bestowed by the clumping, plentiful trees. You knew, had you been caught under any orher circumstances, you might have been seized bu fear. Fear was so common to you, it might as well have lived in your bloodstream. It marred itself across tue scenes of your childhood, manifesting in odd, grim drawings, the inability to sleep in the dark and a bed-wetting era you had grown out of at an embarrassingly late edge. Fear was your companion and it might have destroyed you in this very moment, when you were dodging passed tall, crooked silhouettes of pine trees... were it not for the entity- no, man- that is sending loud enough growls for you to hear on your aggressive getaway.
Butterflies soar in your stomach as your feet beat down on the uneven forest floor. You fight to keep your gaze locked on the nature-crafted obstacle coarse ahead of you, choosing to ignore the hurried lunges sounding behind you. Squirrels scatter in your wake and the owls hoot from their post. The animals watch in anticipation as your energy depletes and your breathing becomes far more ragged and spent.
An unforeseeable ache blossoms in your upper arms first as the butterflies in your bleeds into a sharp, afflicting stitch that has you veering off course. Your thighs lunge the rest of yoir heavy body forward with vigor and determination, using up all the energy you have stored inside. Soon, the world begins to tilt and you're met with the sharp end of a branch that had gone undetected by you. A small scrape slashes across your arm and yet you still keep running.
Another, final growl is sent into the air and for a brief, quiet moment you find yourself gazing up at the waning moon. This was the final evening you got to spend with your lover before the full moon took him away from you, wanting him all to herself like a selfish, immortal bitch.
It is then when you find yourself slowing down. A fire is raging in your esophagus and just as your lungs begin their reduced intake of fresh air, youre yelping as yoire being tackled to the ground with a force that knocks your air out.
"FUCK-" You curse as he rolls the both of you onto the mossy, forest floor. Somehow, he made provisions for you, making sure to lock his arm around your head as the two of you tumbled to the ground in a messy heap. The sound of rapid panting right in your ear.
When you open your arms, you are claimed underneath him. His hands resting against the sides of your head, caging you in with the promise of never letting you go again. His tongue lolled out of his mouth. As if you were a restless baby bird that he might lose again. He gazes down at you with wild eyes brimming with intensity and satisfaction from the chase you had given to him. Both of your uneven ragged breathing fill the space between you until-
"I've... I've got a cut," You whisper in between your loud breathing, "You wouldn't have caught me so soon if I hadn't-"
"Please, just shut up," He murmurs robotically before colliding his lips with yours in a furious and fiery kiss that seems to last for ages. His hands find their way at your sides, sinking his fingers into the soft skin that would otherwise be painful, but what is incredibly erotic.
You try to break away, to try and breathe but he only forces his kiss even deeper. Jeno is unsure if it's a distraught moan or a cry that bubbles up from your chest and it's the not knowing, the possibility of it being both, that has Jeno's cock aching against his pants. He experimentally ruts into your leg once and it's enough to break the kiss and have him groaning into the forest air. "Oh God," he moans in utter delight, and you watch him rut helplessly against your leg while firmly encircling a large hand around your throat. Jeno does not anticipate the strength in his grip, but he is too far gone, completely locked away in a world of pleasure as he murmurs with his hooded eyes: "Never. You never, never, never leave me like that again-"
You motion as if to respond but it's completely drowned out when he pulls down your shorts in quick, delirious movements. You steeple your legs and watch on perched elbows as Jeno kneels before you, head twitching in anticipation of your exposed heat. He can smell how excited you are, how completely helpless that one small exercise had made you for him and it drives him into an early.
You watch with intent as Jeno pulls your panties down- he nearly rips it in half, the need to mount you and spill his seed inside you was just far too great. But, Jeno remembers how badly you scolded him the last time he tore off your clothes. This time he was careful.
"Fuck, you’re gonna have my pups," He admits as he stares down at your naked body. You are bathed in moonlight, and your arousal shone prettily against your inner thighs. The string of beads around your waist shine prettily in the moonlight.
"Youre gonna to need you fuck me then, Jeno.” That tone, that goddamn tone has his eyes latching onto yours in a fraction of a second, his head nodding furiously as your words of affirmation filled him with so much zeal it felt as if he might die.
"I can do that," he says, lining his cock up with your glistening entrance, "I can be good for you. I can do that."
The confidence that had once consumed you, completely washes away as Jeno rams his length into you. By the very first thrust, he's latching onto the ends of unbuttoned shirt with one hand, while he melt to the forest floor, supported by the other.
"No, no, no, look at me, please," His command has your cunt clenching around him, illiciting a deep and painful growl from within him. Jeno's face is mere inches away from yours, as his charged and incessant 'hah, hah, hah's spill out of him with every deliciously thrust. He watches you writer underneath him. Pride and attraction dances a great dance in the confines of his heart as you lift your shaky hands to glide over his exposed chest. He was quite literally fucking you into the ground, it was unlike anything any man had ever administered. Your head moved above you with the force of his thrusts and your voice was clogged with the pressure of your oncoming orgasm.
Jeno was so thoroughly focused on cumming inside you that it overtook his entire brain. He gazed down at you with the satisfaction of claiming you, that you were his and nothing else. His scent was going to be mixed with yours and that's all that matters.
"I'm going to cum inside you," he says, rutting into you at an even wilder pace, “Gonna g-give you my seed, pretty girl- Fuck-”
You mindlessly nod as you feel your cunt begin to tighten around his cock once more. He's so deep and so quick, it's a struggle to concentrate on speaking at all.
"Tell me, please! I need you to tell me. Tell I'm a good boy for you! Tell me I can spill my seed inside you, baby please-"
Behind his huffing and fervent frame, the sky is speckled with gorgeous stars. There are stars in his hooded, pleading words and stars in his voice. He's so close to ecstasy and he needs you to reassure him. "Cum for me, baby," You bring a hand to the side of his face, causing him to lean into it with closed eyes. "You're such a good boy, Jeno. Please, cum for me." Your pussy tightening around him a singke time as him cumming on the spot. His cum, hot and heady floods your insides. It's so much. You're being so completely filled. Your hand twitches om his cheek and your back arches as your own oegasm washes over you. A glorious, heavenly ecstasy overtakes your entire being and Jeno buries his head in the crook of your neck. His cock still thrusts into you as you ride the high, your mouth open in a silent cry as your arms lock around his head.
"My beautiful girl," He mutters as you float back down to earth, "My gorgeous, beautiful girl." The kisses you're met with is endless as your shoulder slump and you're transported, once again, to the real world.
The biggest smile you have ever had the pleasure of witnessing is stitched onto his face as Jeno peers up at you from laying his head on your chest. "Again," he says, causing you to laugh in completely disbelief. "We go again. This time I'll give you a head start-"
"Down boy," you say, keeping your head wrapped around his head, "Let me catch my breath first."
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leclercsainzz · 14 days ago
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GOOD FOR YOU
PAIRINGS: nicholas alexander chavez x fem!reader
TYPE: social media au
A/N: saw an edit of him w/ this song and had to make a smau based on it:)
yourusername
📍 monte-carlo, monaco
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liked by nicholasalexanderchavez, bellahadid and 677,810 others
yourusername: 🇲🇨
view 5,037 comments
user: girl— who is that?!?!?
user: YN? IS THAT A MAN ON THE LAST POST?
madelyncline: drop dead gorgeous! 🤤
↳ yourusername: says youu, bbyg;)
user: who is that?
user: how much ya’ll wanna bet it’s a formula one driver 😭
↳ user: why do you say that? lmao
↳ user: just a hunch
user: does anyone know who that is??
user: why does he look like @landonorris
user: pretty girl!! 😍
user: whoever it is, he secured a baddie
user: the life i aspire to have
user: babes, don’t be shy, tag him 😔
user: YN, DON’T GATE KEEP THAT MAN FROM US
↳ yourusername: sorry bestie 🤪 #gaslightgatekeepgirlboss
user: if it’s a formula one guy i swear—
user: someone know who it is?!??
user: the prettiest girl ever 😍
drewstarkey: 😉
↳ user: drew?!??? what are you doing here?!?!?
haileybieber: gorgg
user: is she dating drew?!!?
↳ user: can’t be, he’s got a buzz cut
user: ooh to be like yn ln 😭
user: i need to know who that lucky man is
user: who is that??!? im so invested omg
user: girl—
user: OMG 😮 WHAT IF IT’S CHARLES LECLERC??!!?
↳ user: bItch omg— imagine
↳ user: i think he had a gf, no?
↳ user: that man has a new gf every season 😭
user: I NEED ANSWERS
user: i love how everyone is so invested in her new man
user: stunning 😩
nicholasalexanderchavez
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liked by yourusername, chloessevigny and 748,027 others
nicholasalexanderchavez: MONSTERS: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story is streaming now only on @netflix
tagged: @cooperkoch @bardenmantarctic @chloessevigny
view 5,027 comments
user: the series was inaccurate but you and cooper killed it
user: even though the story wasn’t portrayed right, you were great
user: DIMES DIMES DIMES DIMES
↳ user: mother fucking dimes 👏🏼
user: him and cooper deserve an oscar for their performance
user: my new obsession, i swear 😭
user: the eighth slide OMG ANSNS—
user: ariana (YN) what are you doing here?!? 👀
user: my new white boy of the month
↳ user: of the year*
user: even though it was inaccurate, he slayed
user: crushing on him and cooper HARD
user: who’s here because of tiktok???
↳ user: MEEEE
user: i have a crush on him fr 😭
user: i better see him in more movies and/or shows
user: OBSESSED OMG 😍
user: you and cooper have me on my knees omg—
user: soooooo fine
user: i binge watched the whole series in one day
↳ user: i did too 😩
user: ooouu he fit fit
user: ARE YOU SINGLE?!!?
↳ user: asking the right questions 🤣
user: nicholas, one chance is all i’m asking for
user: what a beautiful man 😩
user: anyone else see yn in the likes?
↳ user: she’s so real for that
↳ user: she just like me fr
yourusername
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yourusername: <3
view 5,037 comments
user: i was so convinced she was with drew
user: YN, BABES, WHO IS IT?!? 😭
↳ yourusername: that’s a secret i’ll never tell;)
user: ooooh he buff buff
madisonbaileybabe: face card never declines, oml 😍
user: that’s a HOT back omggg—
user: girl, gives us a hint, please
user: the fourth slide 😩
user: whoever he is, he’s HOT ASF
user: he looks hot, yn’s hot, i love hot people
user: pretty girl
user: and people said that it was that formula one driver 💀
madelyncline: sexyyyy
user: i NEED to know who this man is
user: it’s giving ✨ nicholas alexander chavez ✨
↳ user: LMAOOO, that’s a stretch
user: sexy backkk
user: my wife’s got a boyfriend 😭
user: bItchh- i wanna know who it is
user: tag him, don’t be scared
user: i just know he’s about to become the white boy of the month
↳ yourusername: he already is, babes 😉
↳ user: GIRL— WHAT DOES THIS MEAN??
user: my life depends on knowing who this is
user: yn, who is it?!?!???
user: his back is so hot omg
user: he must be hitting the gym often 👅
madisonbeer: gorggg 😍
user: anyone know who it is?
user: she’s soo pretty
user: who is this man?!
user: where are all the fbi girlies at when you need them??
↳ user: LITERALLY OMGG—
drewstarkey: 😏
↳ user: WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!?!?
↳ user: they were supposed to be my endgame frrr 🥺
user: he seems hot
user: gorgeous girl! 😍
nicholasalexanderchavez
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nicholasalexanderchavez: monthly recap
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user: SIR—
user: hitting me with a thirst trap already?!?? 👀
user: soooo he ain’t single? 😭
user: wait a min— why does his post correlate with yn’s?
user: one chance, please! just ONE fucken chance 🙏🏼
user: THE FIRST PIC HELLO? THE SHOE?!?
↳ user: i’m confused, what?!?
↳ user: look at yn’s recent post
↳ user: bItch OMG
user: damn, so he taken?!? 💔
user: BARK BARK
user: tag her, you coward 😏
user: sooo fine omg
user: he knows how fine he is, i swear
user: @yourusername is that you?!??
user: THE THIRD POST, HELLO?!!? 👅👅👅
user: got me feeling some type of way, i swear
user: wait, is that really yn?!?
↳ user: it’s what we’re all trying to figure out
cooperkoch: 🙂‍↕️
user: finest man everrrrrrr
user: nicholas this nicholas that— but what about COOPER??
↳ user: say it louder, bestie
↳ user: what did man do to deserve him?!? 😭
user: fuck 🫦 he’s HOT
user: my kind of man right here;)
user: LET ME BE ONE OF YOUR GIRLS, PLEASE
user: something’s purring 🫢
user: white boy of the month frfr
user: cooper’s a cutie in that fourth slide
user: drew liked!! could it be yn?!?
user: girl @yourusername this yo man??!? 👀
user: ALLLLL day AND ALLLLL NIGHT
user: oh my gawddddd 🫦
user: i can cook and clean, if you need someone
user: holyyyyyyy fuck 😍
user: third post is doing something to me 🤤
user: is he dating yn?!?!?
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imessage
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yourusername
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liked by cooperkoch, drewstarkey and 801,035 others
yourusername: lover era 💋
view 5,036 comments
user: THE HARD LAUNCH WE HAVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR
user: bestie?!?!???? omg?!?!? what?!?!?
↳ yourusername: cats out the bag, i guess 🤷🏻‍♀️
user: oMG
user: i feel so single wtf
user: the second and fourth photo 😭
user: we get it, girl, you won
user: HE SECURED THE BADDEST BITCH OMG 😩
madelyncline: ooou she a baddddie 🫦
user: body so tea the british are coming
nicholasalexanderchavez: you look so good, baby
nicholasalexanderchavez: the most beautiful girl ever
nicholasalexanderchavez: i’m so in love with you 😘
↳ yourusername: i love youuuu 💋
cooperkoch: mom & dad
↳ yourusername: we love you, son 🫶🏼
user: ADOPT ME, PleaSE
user: idk who’s luckier 😭 him or her
user: nOt the white boy of the month
user: YN, HIDE THE EDITS FROM HIM
↳ yourusername: he’s seen them all, bestie 🤣 oops
↳ user: OMGGG?!!?
user: bitch omg
user: nicholas this nicholas that … what aBoUt YN?!? 😍
user: motHER frr 🫦
user: bestie, you’re making me feel so single 🥺
user: obx meets monsters?? 😯
user: the baddest girl everrrr
user: my yndrew heart (they better get together in the show tho)
user: YNNICHOLAS IT IS 😍
user: she’s sooo fine omg
user: @drewstarkey
user: mother is mothering ya’ll 😩
user: THE sexiest couple of 2024
user: tHat’s my girl wtf 😭😭
user: HOT omg
user: MOM AND DAD OMG 😍
user: he’s soooo 🫦🫦🫦😍😍😩🙂‍↕️😘👅😭🥰😋😍
nicholasalexanderchavez
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nicholasalexanderchavez: 🙂‍↕️
tagged: @yourusername
view 6,936 comments
user: YN, GIRL, tHE TEXT?!??
↳ user: she’s so real for that lmao
user: hELp— the message
user: we get it 😭 you’re taken
user: idk if i wanna be him or yn
user: ugh, he’s sooo fine omg 🫦
yourusername: we did in fact do those things;)
yourusername: #ineedthat 🫦
yourusername: SEXc 😍
↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: you 😉
yourusername: let me show you how proud i am to be yours;)
↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: heading upstairs right now
user: soo fucken fine oml
user: VEINS VEINS VEINS
user: i NEED him soo bad omgg 😩
↳ yourusername: same!
user: HOT 🥵
user: yn’s so lucky omg
user: i feel so single wtf
user: TILL THE NEIGHBORS KNOW HIS NAME
user: 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦
user: @yourusername BABES, HE’S SOOO FINE 😭
user: this man is so fine 😍
user: it’s not a want, it’s a NEED
user: nicholas, let me just be one of your girls 🙏🏼
user: my body had a reaction to the third post
cooperkoch: was the text really necessary? 🤔
↳ user: 😂 cooper
user: thE THIRD POST
user: finest man ever, i swear
user: father of my kids (real) 😩
nicholasalexanderchavez and behindtheblinds
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behindtheblinds: All eyes on him! Nicholas Alexander Chavez @nicholasalexanderchavez — the next cover star of our new HIGH ROMANCE FW 24 issue —
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yourusername: dear lord, when i go to heaven
yourusername: that’s my man, guys 🫦
↳ user: we get it, girl, we get it 😭
↳ user: okay— stop rubbing it on my face, please
↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: all yours baby @yourusername
yourusername: #ineeditdeepinsideme
↳ user: YN?!!?? (you’re so real for this)
yourusername: soooo fine oml 😍
↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: that’s you, my love 😘
user: of course yn is here in the comment being thirsty LMAO
user: YN’s COMMENt 😭
cooperkoch: slayyy
↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: 🫶🏼
user: i’m not a waitress but i’ll take the tip
nicholasalexanderchavez: mwahh
user: WE NEED A COLLAB W CALVIN KLEIN
user: dream ride 😩
user: LORD HAVE MERCY
user: i knew i’d find yn here
user: i wanna thank beyonce for your existence
user: alright— who took my pants?
user: i need to know if he’s seen the edits
↳ user: yn confirmed that he does in fact know about the edits
user: yn, i’m so jealous of you 😭
yourusername: you look soooo good 😍
↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: YOU look good;) you know you do
↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: you better feel good
↳ yourusername: I LOVE YOUUUUU ❤️
↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: I LOVE YOUUUU TOO ❤️
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476 notes · View notes
disneyprincemuke · 9 months ago
Text
she's the man * vr dts special
what does netflix have to say about the first and only woman to make it on the grid in almost 2 decades?
warnings: danica patrick jumpscares
notes: hi im procrastinating my assignment that's due tomorrow so i'm making this for you guys <3 and this is so...? poorly written is what i'm trying to say bye
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[will buxton] there is a new team on the grid: andretti's appeal to be the 11th team on the grid was approved early last year. there was a lot of talk about who they could hire in their driver lineup. nobody expected sebastian vettel, who literally just retired from being an f1 driver, to be stepping into the shoes of a race engineer. and to take a chance on a rookie driver...
what did you want me to say? she looks down at the clapperboard that's been handed over to her, lifting it up and down as she tries to ease her nervousness. [producer] introduce yourself first and we'll take it step by step from here. she nods and presses her lips together with a smile. hi. i'm driving for andretti racing for the 2023 season and i am the first female on the grid in almost 20 years.
[sebastian vettel] i... you know, i realised i have nothing to do if i don't race. so i took up the job with one exception – they allow a rookie into the team.
-> bahrain, 2023
she smiles, tapping her card onto the reader. she just waves at the crew ahead of her, cameras held up and lenses pointed directly at her as she walks alongside logan and oscar.
i'm a little nervous, of course – i didn't think i'd get this far. in all honestly, i thought f2 was the furthest i'd get when it came to racing. but i'm lucky. sebastian is taking a big gamble putting me in an f1 car this year.
[danica patrick] a woman in f1? i don't expect that will go well overall. does she even have the aggressiveness to be driving alongside these men who, for them, things like these come naturally.
-> abu dhabi, 2022
"well, would you look at that? the sole woman on the grid has made it to the podium. and that would," there's a pause from crofty, taking a deep breath as a smile spreads his lips, "award her as a runner-up in the drivers' championship slightly ahead of liam lawson. she's driven amazing all year round and it's just a wonder if she will ever make it further than formula 2 if she can produce these results at this level of racing."
[susie wolff] she's amazing behind the wheel. toto and i have watched a couple of her races over the years. it's an experience to have her around every weekend beside big household names like lewis hamilton and max verstappen. if her team can give her a good enough car to produce massive results, or she outperforms everyone's expectations this year, it could be very telling for the sport. and it sure opens a lot of opportunities for new generations of racers to come.
[sebastian vettel] well, she produces the results you'd want in a race car driver. i'd like to change the course of things around here, so there was no question that i'd vouch for her to get in a car with the best of the best. she's been in an f1 car before – with haas a while ago – so there's really not much worry about how she'll do this year. she just needs a good car to start.
[claire williams] nothing wrong with taking a chance on a rookie. but as a new team in the sport, you'd want to prove to everyone that you fought rightfully so for your spot as a new addition to the pitlane.
-> bahrain, 2023
she stands at the back of the garage. the camera zooms into the girl toying with the neckline of her fireproofs. she presses her lips together as sebastian talks to her. "so you're starting p18 tomorrow."
"oh." she looks down at the ground and purses her lips together. "well i told you: the car still felt a little difficult in the braking zones earlier. that was the best i could do without burying myself into a barrier."
"yeah, of course. that just means you'll have to work a little extra tomorrow during the race," sebastian grins. he places his hand on her shoulder to shake her gently. "you did your best today. don't even worry about it. you'll come back stronger tomorrow."
"of course. i didn't get this far just to fumble the bag at my first race."
[danica patrick] qualifying p18 as a rookie and as the sole woman in the sport... it's not a good look for either herself or the people who decided to take a chance on her.
"and that's the checkered flag. p11," sebastian says into her ears.
she sighs as she slows the car down for a cool-down lap. she lets out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. "i could have pushed a little more to get better results. i'm sorry."
"ah, you finished ahead of a lot of people and you climbed 7 places on the track. it's a good first race."
[will buxton] right now, it seems that not everyone is fond of having a woman on the grid. that's very prominent in the fan side of things. but a lot of people are forgetting that she raced with some of the big names that people know today and was on par with them in the results growing up.
[oscar piastri] well, we go way back. you know, growing up karting together and constantly being in competition with one another, i think really encouraged her to stay in the sport. when we moved up to f3 from formula renault, she kinda got left behind to stay. so when i was poached by prema to race into f2, i suggested that they give her a chance.
well, i was up there fighting with oscar and logan, and occasionally liam, for good results during karting races and eventually in formula renault. the only disadvantage i had compared to them was that i'm a girl. you know, growing up, i would constantly be told that i wouldn't get very far cause this is a boy's sport. that really does discourage you from wanting and thinking that i'd get into official leagues, but i owe it to my best friends for pushing me to dream bigger and retain the passion i had for racing.
[logan sargeant] i mean... she kinda did hand me my ass every single time we were out on the track. if that doesn't tell people that she's a good racer, i'm unsure what will.
[zak brown] it was, truthfully, down to her and oscar for who should come in and drive for mclaren. but we weren't sure if the risks to bring her in would be worth it. so we went with the safer option.
[james vowles] i know a couple different teams – i'm definitely not namedropping – who were eyeing her for her performance last year. prema did a very good job marketing her as their driver as well so there's an extra factor. she's lovely.
-> australia, 2023
"oh, andretti's rookie passes the flag ahead of the alpha tauri and puts her in the points!" there's cheering in the grandstands, and nobody can believe their eyes at the results of the purple race car. "you see it here first – she is the first woman, in decades, to score points to formula 1"
"that's p9! there's your first points in formula 1!"
"oh? oh my fucking god! i did it!"
scoring your first points as a formula 1 driver... it's a very big feat as a rookie. but it means even more when you're in my position.
she runs to where sebastian stands, helmet in her hands. she screams as her team erupts in cheers at the sight of her sprinting towards them and she pumps her fists into the air.
"i did it!" she screams, immediately surrounded by the personnel clad in the bright andretti purple. "i scored my first points!"
she's seen in the middle of their makeshift circle, thrown around by her team as they bask in their first achievement in the sport and of the year. she's seen with tears running down her cheeks briefly before sebastian pulls her in for a very tight hug.
"i told you everything will be fine. you just had to be patient, kid."
[sebastian vettel] scoring points alone is already a step in the right direction. now we just need to focus on being consistent race after race.
-> azerbaijan, 2023
"there's a yellow flag here in lap 40. we're waiting to hear who it was caused by," the camera pans to the car head first into the barriers at a turn, "and it seems to be an andretti."
when you crash front first out of a turn, it's like the rudest jumpscare a person could have. it's nothing to do with the car – it was straight up a driver error.
[sebastian vettel] no driver wants to crash their car during a race and then admit to the whole world that it was their fault. especially when you're in her position, you know? the statement she released and choosing to be honest about it being a driver error – it was her decision to handle it that way. personally... he giggles with a smile. i wouldn't have done that.
[will buxton] she only seems to be getting better and better every single weekend.
-> monaco, 2023
"that's another finish in the points, kid. good race. that's p5 for you."
"thank you. the car felt great this weekend."
-> singapore, 2023
"here we have the andretti rookie in her engineer and mentor's arms, on a very historical evening. she has just scored her first podium this weekend at the singapore grand prix."
she jumps as she's in sebastian's arms, her face buried in his chest. she is seen pulling away slightly from him and he grabs her face, "amazing– you were amazing, kid! congratulations!"
tears, again, roll down her cheeks as she nods at his statement. her chest heaves as she cries. "thank you. oh, my goodness. thank you."
"there's no words. just that you were amazing this weekend."
a hand lands on her back. she turns around and covers her face as she fights the biggest grin. "you beat me in f1, mate!"
the australian accent fills her ears as he congratulates her. oscar takes her into his arms, resting his chin on her shoulder as they lock themselves in a tight embrace. he rubs circles on her back. "congrats on the podium, mate."
[danica patrick] now they're in a weird spot. oscar, on one hand, has been backed by mark webber for years. his best friend is racing under sebastian vettel. everybody knows those two don't get along – is it possible that it could reflect on their friendship as well?
-> silverstone, 2023
"overtake available." her andretti, slowly inches towards the mclaren of oscar's up ahead. "whenever you see fit."
"what's the gap?" oscar huffs, head snapping over to his side mirror briefly.
"0.2."
at the next turn, she takes a big lunge on the inside of the track to go ahead of oscar.
"there's a bit of fighting at the midfield here between a mclaren and an andretti. oscar piastri, however, does not let her go. he is still fighting to hopefully finish ahead of her in today's race."
"keep the pace. try to shake oscar off, he's still close behind you."
"noted."
racing on the track with oscar? nothing i haven't done before.
[oscar piastri] she's always been great at keeping up and being a challenging competitor on the track.
[logan sargeant] she's very fast on and off the track. i rarely beat her in racing... so...
"oscar piastri takes the checkered flag behind the andretti, failing to fight with the incredible pace the new car has shown this weekend."
in parc ferme, the girl takes her helmet off, turning around sharply to the man in papaya orange as he lifts himself out of the car. "good fight, mate."
"good fight," oscar smiles. they share a quick hug before the younger girl briefly runs away from him to approach logan further down the lane.
[danica patrick] we've seen what the sport does to friends. it does not matter how long you've been friends – it will eventually catch up to you and everybody involved.
-> austin, 2023
"the andretti finished in p5 and logan sargeant has just been promoted to p10 following the disqualification of charles leclerc and lewis hamilton. oscar, however, retires from the race following a crash with esteban ocon."
i don't beat oscar often – so whenever the rarity comes up, i take it with open arms.
"ah, screw you mate," oscar laughs, throwing his arms around the younger girl once again. "good finish."
she flips her hair as she pulls away and bats her eyelashes. "what can i say? i'm made for formula 1."
[sebastian vettel] they're sweet kids. i don't think there is any animosity between them. they lived together while they karted weekend after weekend. they're used to it... i think.
we've fought about things like these growing up. oh, for sure. we're both the oldest siblings – so the competition never ends between us.
[oscar piastri] she is very competitive. she's only fair when it comes to racing on the track though. everything else, she finds a way to come out on top.
-> oxford, 2023 (winter break)
"i won."
logan turns to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. "no, you didn't."
now stood up, the girl looked down at logan with a mirrored bewildered expression on her face. "yes, i did."
"no," logan repeats with his eyebrows raised, "you did not."
she clenches her jaw. "yes, i did."
"dude." logan turns to look at oscar, sitting across the table from them. their gazes all land on the card that she puts in the middle. "that's a yellow card that you coloured over with red marker. you lost – just admit it."
"what do you mean? that's a legit card." she lifts it up and reveals to the camera a card that's been poorly coloured red with some scratches that reveal the authenticity of the yellow that logan had just pointed out.
[logan sargeant] she's such a sore loser.
-> abu dhabi, 2023
"that's the andretti of the rookie driver crossing the finish line in p4, and that puts her in 6th place in the driver's championship. we might just be at the start of history being made, folks."
[sebastian vettel] what can i say? i'm never wrong with who i place my bets on.
[danica patrick] she proved a lot of people wrong this year, including me. she is an exciting up and coming driver.
she shrugs with a smug grin on her face. oh, i'm here to stay, babes.
andretti has secured her with a multi-year contract with the team – she will be racing under them until 2028.
the clapperboard clicks loudly, a man sits there with a cheeky grin as he stares into the camera. i'm liam lawson and i'm now an andretti race car driver. see you on the track in 2024.
– bonus
"aw, mate! they totally twisted that whole scene up!" she scoffs, throwing a small pillow at the tv screen. "dalton was the one that coloured that uno card in. not me!"
oscar turns to her. "yet you still used it despite the fact that we agreed to not use it in games anymore."
"the game would not have been fair if we were missing one card!"
logan scoffs. "we let you win, anyway."
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @nikfigueiredo @namgification @happy-nico @darleneslane @littlesatanicassholebitch @localwhoore @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @inejismywife @love4lando
2K notes · View notes
seiwas · 11 months ago
Text
grow on me like a dog loved fondly: prologue | kamo choso
wc: 1.0k
summary: your regular to the flower shop is more than what he seems. 
contains: written with f!reader in mind but can be read as gn!, animal shelter employee choso x flower shop owner reader, implied that reader is shorter than choso, flowers, small talk.
a/n: the promised choso drabble! depending on how this is received, i intend for this to be the prologue to a longer choso fic i have in mind!
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You have a regular on the weekends. 
Business in the flower shop tends to be slow during winter, with less occasions having the need for flowers and even less buds blooming during the season. 
But even with the expected decline in customers, Saturdays always guarantee one—
The bells attached to the store doors jingle, allowing in a gust of cool air that tickles your cheeks from where you’re crouched down. The peonies in your hands were delivered just yesterday, the ends of the stems needing a slight trim to keep them fresh for longer. 
You turn, standing up to face your visitor. A purple scarf is wrapped high around his neck, with white fleece running down the length of his arms—a sort of undershirt to the short-sleeved uniform worn atop it. The outfit is familiar enough, but what truly distinguishes him are the two spiky pigtails on the sides of his head. 
There are a few things you’ve managed to pick up from four-line exchanges with your regular (six if you’re lucky): 1) he works at the animal shelter a few streets away, 2) the flowers he buys are for the front desk, a weekly replacement he deems necessary to keep the place looking alive, and 3) who he is, his name—
—‘Choso’, if the tag on his uniform says anything. 
The tag that is now, also, just a hand’s reach away from you. 
You look up, pocketing your plant nippers. The peonies dangle between your fingers. 
“W-welcome!” you stutter, focusing on the thin metal chain running across his nose. 
It’s new, an addition that intrigues you more about the man in front of you. 
The look he gives you is lazy, gaze deadpan, almost empty. Anyone else might find it snobbish and off-putting, but you’ve gotten used to it—an almost magenta puffiness that surrounds his eyes, bags of fatigue that usually hang underneath. 
He continues to stare, unmoving. 
Considering all your previous interactions, you’ve realized, he isn’t scary or rude or anything of that sort—he’s just awkward. 
A bit quiet and unbothered, maybe, but still just awkward. You don’t think he’s ever started an interaction with you first. 
“Is there any flower in particular that you’re looking for?” you ask, motioning around your store. 
The selection is limited this season—a few camellias and clusters of Japanese primrose with an abundance of peonies and daffodils. 
His head turns as he glances around the store, pigtails bobbing slightly with each movement. When he faces you again, he shrugs, voice deep and firm as he asks, “Do you have any recommendations?” 
It’s an odd feeling, borderline awkward and nervous; you have no idea why your mind is blanking. 
“Um,” you clear your throat, tucking the peonies between your fingers into your apron pocket, “daffodils are bright and friendly, good for entryways and front desks, I think.” 
He eyes the daffodils to your right, buckets of stems holding yellow and white. The store stays quiet for what feels like a good minute before he nods, agreeing to your suggestion. 
“The usual?” two clusters, wrapped in newspaper. 
Your question echoes throughout the shop, lingering while you pick at which daffodils look best. 
“Yes, but two of them.” he answers in monotone, before adding on, a soft hesitancy, “Please.” 
You smile to yourself, picking more daffodils for another bunch. 
Both of you make your way to the cashier, another bout of silence surrounding you as you crumple newspaper and pull at tape. He always watches, you notice, his focus set on your practiced handling of stems and leaves. 
You look up momentarily, seeing that he keeps his head down, “The pigtails are cool.” 
He doesn’t say anything, and for a while you’re afraid you might have offended him, but he responds, voice low; it’s soft, gentle in a way you never expected it to be. 
“Thank you.” you catch him shifting his weight from your periphery, hands digging deeper into his pockets, “The dogs think they’re chew toys when I wear it this way.” 
You most certainly were not expecting that, either. 
This is the most initiative he’s taken to add onto the conversation.
You grin, chuckling under your breath, “That must be fun.” 
It’s faint, but you think you hear him laugh a little. 
When the flowers are completely wrapped, you set them aside, making your way behind the cash register. You punch in the cost, ready to bill him before he speaks again. 
“Actually, would you happen to do deliveries?” he seems shy asking it, barely looking you in the eye. 
“Yes!” You nod, grabbing a pen and paper to hand over to him, “Just write down your contact details, the address you want it delivered to, and when you’d like it to be delivered.” 
Another thing you’ve realized, is that despite appearances and what he seems to be, Choso handles objects gently; the pen and paper you’d just given him were taken lightly from your fingertips. Even the strokes of his penmanship are slow, the tip of the pen barely creating an indent on the small sheet. 
“Will you be having both of these delivered?” you ask, holding up the bundles of daffodils. 
“Just one.” he answers promptly, before adding on again, “Thank you.” 
And you know you shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t be so nosy, but—
“What’s the occasion?”—
Flowers are rarely in demand during the winter season. 
—“If you don’t mind me asking,” you follow-up quickly. 
The immediate quiet makes you think you might have gotten too comfortable again, made him feel weird about your questions—but he answers.
“My brothers,” he finishes the final curves of his writing, “they’re coming to visit.” 
The piece of paper is handed to you, and you hum, acknowledging his response. You go over his details, reciting it to him to double-check. But when you land on his address, your eyes go wide, a little ‘oh!’ slipping out. 
He furrows his brows, confused. 
You definitely, most certainly did not expect this. 
“Sorry,” you shake your head, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, “Just—“ you chuckle, “I think we might be neighbors.” 
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thank you notes: @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for sending me lil prompts that somehow birthed into this!! + @yemmuishomeforthementallyunwell for feeding the choso brainrot 🥹 + @mysugu @soumies for being my angels, lights of my life!! listening to me ramble abt this and helping me pick music, hash out plot, pick title, everything! ily
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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