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yauchfilms · 7 months ago

Note

anything with logan and being back in florida ? would appreciate!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (18+)

pairing: logan sargeant x reader (established relationship)

warnings: smut, porn with plot (lots of exposition sorry i got carried away), one use of y/n, soft dom!logan, switchy!reader, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, lots of pet names, begging, lots and lots of praise, body part worship if you squint, cursing, logan’s a simp, reader is implied floridian, implied childhood friends to lovers, sunburns, fluffy intimacy

summary: it’s been too long since y/n has been back in the states and she is NOT used to the florida sun like she used to be, but don’t worry, logan knows how to take care of her.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: sorry i got soooo carried away with this i don’t know what came over me. this was NOT supposed to be smut but im just a florida girl crushing on a florida boy here y’all lmao. i’m down so bad for this man that i just went kinda crazy. also this was my first time writing smut so pls bare with me. this is inspired by my friend (and fellow logan girly) who just acquired a nasty sunburn lmaoooo. enjoy!!!!

it had been quite a while since you and logan had been back home together. well, not really, but the weather was typically a lot nicer in the winter months than in the spring and summer, and you were not used to it. after you and logan moved to london together full-time, you rarely saw the sun anymore, and your matching pale complexions certainly reflected that sentiment.

obviously, the miami race weekend was a big deal for the whole sargeant camp. aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends, and grandparents would be making their short trip down i-95 to see logan race, but it also meant that you and logan could spend a week together at home, in the sun, in each other’s company. a free vacation of sorts. logan’s parents were busy getting the house ready for the hordes of guests that were to soon occupy the space, so you and logan were more than happy to get out of their hair and into the back yard for some relaxation.

it was sunday, and you found yourself lounging out on the dock, lost in a romance novel that was probably making you lose brain cells, when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

“y/n!”, logan yelled from where him and coco were playing on the grass. “have you been applying sunscreen?”

you put your book down, letting out a small huff at his question. logan often took a rather paternal role over you, not in a weird or demeaning way, but rather in the sense that he always has your best interest at heart. and you loved that about him, loved how he always wanted to take care of you without being asked.

you looked down over the chaise longue you were laid out on, thinking there was a bottle of SPF next to your drink, but all that was there was the can of sparkling water you had been nursing.

“don’t have any; i’ll be okay!” you called back, hoping that would be the end of it.

“you want me to bring you some? it’s no problem,” logan replied, positioning himself to get up off the ground.

“don’t worry about it; i’m coming inside soon anyways!” you half-lied, knowing that logan usually respected your wishes when it came to things like that. you knew you weren’t necessarily telling him the truth, but he knew you and your stubbornness, and he knew it was not his business to try to fix it.

another few hours had passed, and logan and the dog had long gone inside to find something else to do. you had stayed out, vowing to finish your book in one sitting. as you closed it, you stood up from the lounger, grabbing your long-abandoned can from the ground, wrapping yourself in the towel that you had been laying on, making your way back into the comfort of the house – and the air conditioning.

walking in through the kitchen, you pass logan’s mom, who was cooking dinner for the family.

“oh sweetie, looks like you got some color on you!” she exclaims, chopping up some vegetables.

“yeah, it’s been a minute since i’ve had time to tan! i missed the florida sunshine too much.”

“well, logan’s in his room, and dinner’s in about an hour if you’d like to freshen up,” mrs. sargeant said sweetly, motioning towards the hallway towards logan’s room.

upon your arrival, logan moved his laptop out of his lap and onto the bed next to him. you took the towel off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bikini, when logan’s eyes went wide with shock.

“what, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini before?” you quipped, reacting to his sudden change of expression.

“y/n, you are bright red, like ferrari red,” logan replied, serious as a heart attack. you make your way to the vanity over his dresser, taking in your current state. logan was right. you were burnt.

“what the fuck dude, i swear i wasn’t out there that long,” you snapped, poking and prodding yourself in the mirror, letting out a wince when you stumbled over a particularly sensitive area.

logan gets off his spot on the bed, making his way towards you, joining you in front of the mirror. his hands immediately fall to your hips out of instinct, but he makes sure not to grab too tightly due to your new look.

“baby,” he says, placing his chin onto your shoulder. you let out another wince, reacting to his touch. “i told you to wear sunscreen. now look at you, my little lobster…”

“this isn’t funny,” you pout, and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. you spin around in his arms, now facing him face-to-face rather than through the mirror.

“stop pouting baby, and go hop in the shower, please. the sooner you get some cold water on you, the better you’ll feel. i can feel the heat radiating off you from here,” logan said with a giggle. his hands linger around your ass, and he gives a slight smack to send you on your way, which elicits a shrill yelp from you due to the sensitivity of the area.

“are you at least going to join me?” you question as you make your way to his en suite, stopping in the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest. logan lets out another giggle.

“and listen to you whine the whole time? no thanks, plus i showered like an hour ago,” he replies, which garners a predictable whine from you. “if you make it quick, i might have something that can help you,” he adds, and you turn on your heel into the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam.

and he was right; the shower hurt like hell, but you know that had he been there, you wouldn’t have been able to properly soak in the cold water, so you silently curse him for being right.

you walk back into logan’s room, wrapped in your towel, when you see him sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he hears you approach, putting his phone down and grabbing the clear bottle off the bed next to him.

“i found you aloe; well, my mom did. she said your burn is one of the worst she’s seen,” logan said, presenting the bottle to you like it was a participation trophy.

“is that supposed to make me feel better or worse, logie?” you questioned, feigning offence from his comment.

“well, the comment probably won’t, but hopefully the aloe does,” he replied. “c’mere, baby,” he cooed, his arms outstretched, welcoming you into his arms. you take your spot on his lap, legs draped over his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you in place. logan places a kiss to the bridge of your nose, and along your cheeks, leaning in to admire the newly-formed freckles that were threatening to peak out from underneath the harsh redness of your skin.

“your freckles are back; reminds me of when we were little, trying to catch fish with my dad in the backyard. you were so bad at it; still are to be honest, but it’s okay because you still look cute trying to bait a hook,” he laughs, his breath giving a cooling sensation to your cheeks, and you wish he would keep talking just to feel his breath against your skin.

“logan, baby, the aloe?” you suggest, knowing that the time he’s wasting is killing you. all you crave is the feeling of the lotion on you, and his hands being the ones to apply it.

“sorry, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you, just being here with you makes me think about stuff like that. i sometimes wish we could go back…” logan trails off, and you know what he’s thinking about. he often thinks about the memories of you growing up, how much he missed you when he moved away to the uk, and what it meant to get you back. you like to think of those moments too, sometimes, but he often gets in his head about it.

“i know,” you coo, lifting a hand up to card through the longer hair on the back of his neck, as a way to soothe him.

he lifts the bottle of aloe up towards you.

“may i?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up in an inquisitive way.

“of course you may. how do you want me?” you ask, a mischievous look in your eye.

“do not say it like that, you minx,” logan shot back, your innuendo catching him by surprise.

“keep talking crazy like that, and we might have a problem,” he snapped, although with no actual malice behind it. “you can lay on your tummy first, though, and i’ll go from there, if that’s okay,” he said, his expression softening as he looked at you.

you climb out of his lap and onto your stomach on the bed next to him, and he straddles your back to get the proper angle.

“this okay?” he asks, tugging slightly at the towel that is still loosely wrapped around your back.

“log, you’ve seen me naked countless times; of course it’s okay,” you quip, turning your head so he can see the side of your face. he leans down, planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek, blowing a raspberry there. this elicits a giggle from you, wriggling underneath him.

logan drags the towel down your body slowly, his fingers barely grazing your warm, sensitive skin, standing up on his knees to pull it out from under you.

“i know we aren’t having sex or anything, but could you at least take your shirt off or something? this feels too clinical,” you say, causing logan to burst out laughing above you.

“you are not a real person, i swear to god,” he quips, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. “is that better, princess?” he says sarcastically, using the nickname he only gives you when you’re acting like a handful.

between your fits of giggles, you let out a “mhm” that signals to logan that he is free to proceed. this evokes an eye roll from logan that you catch out of the corner of your eye.

his attitude doesn’t last long, however, because before you can protest, his lips find your shoulder blade, peppering kisses along the top of your back, feeling his stubble graze across your skin. it burns, but feels so good at the same time.

“so sweet for me, logie,” you groan, melting into his touch. he reaches for your hair, still damp from the shower, to move it out of his way, as he makes his way across the plane of your body.

all he can manage is a drawn out “hmmmmm” as he feels the warmth of your skin along his cheek.

he pulls away suddenly, and you whimper at the loss of contact from him.

“i know, i know,” he cooes, and you hear the bottle of lotion being opened just out of your periphery.

his hands make contact with your skin again, feeling the sensation of the cool liquid as he massages it in. his strong hands make their way up and down your back, causing you to arch only slightly, if it wasn’t for him sitting squarely on your ass.

“you’re killing me, logan,” you half-whisper, his actions genuinely taking your ability to speak at a regular volume, the intimacy of it all being just a little too much for you.

“feels good, huh?” he asks, and although you can’t see it, you can tell that he’s cocked his eyebrow at you, and you’re surprised he’s been able to behave himself this long.

his hands work swiftly, massaging the liquid in with long, deft fingers, the sensation driving you crazy.

“logan, i want you, please,” you whine, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyes softening in an almost begging manor.

“i thought you said we weren’t–”

“i lied. i’m a liar. i need you right now,” you beg, as logan stands back up on his knees to allow you to roll over underneath him, him now settled on your thighs.

“fuck, baby, i can’t say no to you,” he huffs, not sure exactly how to make the next move. he looks down at you splayed out in front of him, taking in the sight before him. a hand reaches down to caress down your chest, fingers grazing slightly over your nipple, causing your breath to hitch.

“we have to make it quick, okay? can you be good for me?” he asks, his hand lingering on your left breast.

you let out a whimper, shaking your head slightly.

“words, baby,” he sighs, his fingers massaging into the tissue of your chest.

“yes, i’ll do whatever you want,” you whisper, unable to find your voice with how turned on you were.

“that’s my pretty girl,” logan cooes, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, adjusting himself so he’s slotted between your legs. the kiss deepens, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, as he swallows your muffled moans, trying to avoid the awkward conversation with his mom later.

“gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers, his hand running up and down your side, the warmth of his hand searing your sensitive skin.

“god, i feel like we’re in high school again,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.

“except i wasn’t nearly as good then as i am now, though,” he smirks, diving down to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to the base of your neck, softly nibbling on your pulse point.

“are you gonna prove it?” you ask, trying to rile him up.

this question evokes something in him, his breath against your skin coming hot and sudden, and you could feel the deep exhale from his nose.

leaning up to your ear, he whispers, “you are such a brat.”

the sensation from the whisper mixed with the sting of his words sends a shock straight to your core. he’s not always the best at dirty talk, but he still somehow knows exactly what to say and when to say it.

“touch me, logan,” you manage to squeak out, your breath growing heavier the more you took in his words, and he was eager to oblige.

with that, the hand that found comfort on your hip trailed its way down between your bodies, grazing the softness of your stomach, fingers oh-so-gently teasing your folds.

“so wet, huh? so worked up for me? you drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?” he growls, his voice rasping as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit with his thumb. “one or two, baby?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means.

“two, please”, you whine into his mouth, body arching up into him before he even has the chance to touch you properly.

“good girl, take it so well,” he groans, sliding two fingers into your cunt, almost too slowly. his voice is almost unrecognizable, the threat of being too loud taking over. his thumb continues its pattern on your clit.

you feel the tension building as he fucks his hand in and out of you, but not before you feel him slowing his pace down.

“i know you wanna come now baby, but we don’t have long. i’m gonna stop, and we can come together, okay?”, he half-whispers.

his hand moves from its spot between your thighs back up toward your lips, as he rests his fingers on your bottom lip, cocking his eyebrow at you.

“o-okay,” you squeak out, and with that, his fingers push past your lips, urging you to suck them clean, and you oblige, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself on his fingers.

your hands trail down between you two, your fingers dipping underneath his shorts and boxers, toying with the waistband.

logan removes his fingers from your mouth, opting to move back to your jawline, planting lingering kisses along the bone.

“quit teasing, baby, want you on top. let me see those pretty tits of yours, yeah?”, he smirks, knowing that him complimenting your body drives you crazy in the best way.

you oblige with a searing kiss to his lips, opting to pull his shorts down in one motion, cock bobbing free and slapping across his stomach. he reaches down to finish taking them off, throwing them on the floor with your long-abandoned towel.

he rolls you both over with ease, you now on top. your fingertips graze his chest, down to his abs, grabbing his cock and giving it a few quick pumps to make sure he’s ready.

“ready, log?” you ask, your hands now on either side of his head, his blue eyes sparkling back up at you, your hips and ass now up in the air waiting for his cue.

he leans up to chase your lips, trying to kiss you, just out of his reach.

“please, baby, i can’t take it much more,” he begs, using his arms to pull you down to him, sinking down on him, and meeting his lips with yours. now it’s his turn to moan into your mouth.

“fuuuuuck,” is all he’s able to get out, his hands finding their way to your hips, trying to help you relieve the lack of sensation. Your hips roll for the first time over him, and his hips immediately buck up into you.

“patience, baby. i thought i was the desperate one?” your words go right to his cock, making him buck up once again, making you speed up your motions. you feel the effects of his desperation on your body, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every bounce on his cock.

“fuck, you’re close, baby; so am i,” logan pants, the physicality of it all catching up to him. he knows your body so well; he can always tell when you’re about to come.

with his observation, you lean back with your hands behind you on his thighs, your hips continuing to roll against his body, eliciting a low, grumbling moan from logan. he loved you like that, all cock-drunk and lazy on top of him. it also meant that he had a perfect view of your tits, both his hands reaching to grab at them as he continued fucking up into you.

“these are so fucking perfect. all mine. i can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” logan pants, both of your movements becoming lazier, as he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your already-tight walls close in on his cock.

you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching with his presence on your tits, and you know that he isn’t going to last long, either. you lean forward, diminishing the space between you two, giving logan the opportunity to bear hug you. his thrusts up into you send you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to let out a muffled moan onto his right pec. your vision goes slightly blurry for a second until you hear a grunted “fuck, baby”, followed by the feeling of logan’s hips sputtering underneath you. he comes shortly after you, spilling into you.

You collapse onto his chest, your highs riding out together. he doesn’t loosen his grip around your back, planting a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling out as you lay pitifully on his chest.

“so good for me, baby, so sweet. fuck, i’m so lucky,” he whispers, rubbing your back where, just a few minutes earlier, he was applying aloe lotion. he rolls you both over so that you’re now facing each other on your sides.

you reach a hand up to caress his face, feeling the stubble from a week’s worth of no races, the hair rough against your smooth palm.

“logie, you fucked me so good i almost forgot about this damn sunburn,” you giggled, “but now we’re done and it just hurts again!”

“guess that means i’ll just have to fuck you again,” logan smirked, burying his head into the crook of your neck, eliciting more giggles from you. you begin to hook your leg over his thigh, bringing you even closer, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. you almost begin the cycle over again until you hear a knock on the door that has you both frozen in your tracks.

“dinner!” you hear his mom cheer from the other side of the door, and then her footsteps clearly walking back down the hall towards the kitchen.

“guess not,” you teased, eliciting an eye roll from logan, who quickly gets up to pull you into the bathroom to get cleaned up.

#logan sargeant smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader

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potatoplace · 1 month ago

Text

betty

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

the 1 (part 1) | So Long, London (part 3)

mini-series masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: In the aftermath of your fall, your sisters stay by your side, comforting you as best they can. The Shadowsinger is lurking, hoping for a chance to apologize. Will you tell him to go fuck himself or take him as your mate once more?

Warnings: suicide mention, self harm, difficult birth, chronic pain (idk if I should tag that?), FUCK AZRIEL

Words: ~3.5k

Author's Note: So. This was supposed to be the HAPPY ending. And it kind of is. So. Yeah. I just couldn't think of a way to make it actually happy except in the way that I did. Because tbh Azriel fucked up TOO. HARD. There's honestly no way to fully come back from what he did... grrrrr. I hope you guys like it anyways, sorry that I can't deliver on some actual fluff to heal your hearts 💔 also the first bit before Feyre finds out about Reader is the same as in 'Gone'. And the final alternate ending will be out tomorrow!

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🤍💙

Azriel quickly made his way back to Elain, doing his best to put the interaction he had just had with you behind him.

His mate.

Elain’s sister… That’s the only way he had ever thought of you.

As a human you had been… Less than average. Hard to look at.

At least in comparison to Elain.

Elain was a breath of fresh air, so lovely and innocent and so entirely unlike him.

And turned fae, she was even more breathtaking.

He had waited for her to realize how truly damaged and scarred he was, and not just on the outside. How entirely unworthy of her he was.

But she hadn’t. She had seen him, loved him, even with how broken he was on the inside.

And he had meant his words to Nesta, when he had said no one would ever compare to Elain, even his mate.

And he was right. You didn’t compare to her.

But as he reached her side and wrapped his arm around his lovely Elain, he couldn’t help but… wonder.

Had he just made a mistake in rejecting the bond so easily?

His free hand came to rub at his chest, which felt like it was being scraped with a knife, a dull, throbbing pain.

“Are you alright?” Elain’s sweet voice asked, and he tilted his head to look down at her.

“Of course, sweetheart. Join me for a dance?” He asked softly, leading her by the hand to the dance floor after she nodded, a beautiful smile gracing her lips.

The ring in his pocket, so dainty and light, felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds.

He had planned to propose to Elain tonight, present her with the beautiful ring that he had picked out just for her. But now, after your confession and the pain from a severed bond in his chest, it just didn’t feel like the time.

Only a minute into their dance, Feyre screamed in agony, all heads whipping to look at their High Lady.

“Feyre? What’s wrong?” Rhys asked, already holding Feyre in his arms.

She broke away from him a moment later, sprinting further into the House without any warning.

Rhys followed immediately after, running after his mate, and the rest of the inner circle followed quickly.

They found Feyre peering over a balcony, sobbing at whatever she saw before summoning her wings. In the next moment, Feyre was jumping over the edge, diving down towards the rocks below.

Just a few seconds later, she returned, a body clutched tightly to her chest-

You. His mate.

Feyre set you gently on the ground, her hands already glowing with healing powers. “Someone go get Madja. Now.”

Cassian took to the air as soon as she gave her command, flying in the direction of the healer’s home as the rest of them stood, watching Feyre work to heal your broken, battered body with mouths wide in disbelief.

Your other two sisters fell to the ground around you, careful not to touch you lest they cause any more damage.

“What… What happened?” Elain asked tearily. His soft, sweet Elain, tears already streaming down her face, sorrow matched by Nesta.

But Feyre… Feyre was sobbing as she worked to heal you, mending the vital organs that had been damaged in the fall.

Because you had fallen. Somehow, you had fallen over the edge of the balcony that would reach above your waist.

You were so small, so fragile.

The torn bond in his chest felt like a gaping wound, Truthteller twisting inside the muscle over and over and over as he looked at your dying body, the reality of the situation hitting him all at once.

You are his mate! He had rejected his mate!

Cassian returned with Madja in record time, who immediately set to healing the bones that were shattered into a thousand pieces.

“Everyone besides the sisters should leave now, I need to focus,” Madja said sharply, leveling a glare at Azriel himself.

He had been softly sobbing, tears cascading down his face without him even realizing.

Rhys, Cassian, Mor, and Amren all turned their eyes to Azriel, confused at the level of grief he was displaying, nearly level with your sisters.

Quickly, Azriel turned and left the balcony, making his way to another abandoned one, taking to the skies a moment later. He hoped the cold air would clear his thoughts, rid him of this feeling of regret he was holding now, after seeing you nearly dead.

But still, his heart ached with the need to see you, the need for the bond to be whole and healed again, to give it a chance.

Because now, he could see that he had made a mistake. Now that you had nearly left him in a way he hadn’t anticipated, hadn’t thought would ever happen.

Elain… Elain would be sad, of course. And he would miss her truly… It was a shame you were sisters, or he may have been able to figure out a world in which he could have the both of you to love him.

Most likely, Elain wouldn’t want a relationship with her sister’s mate, either. It would be… Cruel of them to continue on, with you still around them.

He didn’t know how he hadn’t realized that the moment you had confessed.

But there was no changing that. There was only the path forward, and that was for him to find some way to repair the bond between you, and do whatever he needed to win his mate to his side

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The first time you woke, it was to blinding pain in every inch, every cell of your body.

Without opening your eyes, your body wrenched itself to the side to wretch up whatever remained in your stomach, the movement sending more stabs of pain through you.

You weren’t awake for more than a minute before you succumbed to the pain, falling into blissful nothingness.

The second time you woke, you could hear muffled words, sounding like they were passing through several layers of cotton stuffed into your ears.

The voices sounded like your sisters, arguing in hushed voices.

Probably about what a failure you were, not even able to take your own life, even by jumping from-

A balcony.

Azriel.

Your mate.

The pain of your body was nothing to the renewed agony of the severed bond, ripped so suddenly after finally being recognized by your mate.

A scream left your lips without a thought, and your hands attempted to raise up to your chest, to attempt to soothe the pain ravaging you so thoroughly.

But they were stopped, held down by gentle hands, and two more cupped at your face, the kindness in them reminding you of only one person-

Twin.

Your eyes cracked open the slightest bit, the connection between you and Feyre giving you just enough to meet her pretty blue eyes with your dull brown ones.

“Y/N, you’re awake,” Feyre said softly, the words echoed into your mind so that you could actually hear her. “Try to stay still, sissy. We healed you as much as we could but you could still reinsure your muscles. Just stay still, I’ll get you more pain potions.”

Tears leaked out of your eyes. “Bond. Hurts,” you managed to whisper to her mentally, and her eyes widened.

One of her hands left your face, the other one curling around to lift your head and tilt a potion into your mouth, the liquid bitter but instantly easing the physical aches within you, tiredness sweeping over your senses and pulling you under.

But you could still feel the pain in your heart.

The third time you woke, the pain in your body was only a dull ache, but your hands shot up to rub at the ache in your chest.

No hands stopped you this time, but you heard three soft gasps as you moved, and after a moment you let your eyes flutter open, squeezing shut after seeing how bright it was.

“Oh, shoot,” Elain’s soft voice said, and you hear her soft footsteps and the swish of fabric before she returned. “It’s darker in here now, you should be more comfortable.”

You let your eyes open again, pleased to see there was only the dim glow of the fireplace and a few candles dotted about the room.

After a moment, you recognized that you were in the room that had been set aside for you in the River House, laying on the plush bed with your sisters huddled around it on chairs.

“What…” You started, but found yourself coughing, your dry, sore throat protesting the action. Feyre quickly offered you a glass of water, helping to raise your head and tilting the glass to spill the cool liquid down your throat.

Once you had had your fill, she set the glass back down on your bedside table, then helped you sit up against the headboard. She fussed with the pillows, making sure that you were only laying against the plush padding, then tugged the blanket up to cover your chest and shoulders.

Feyre was sniffling softly as she looked at you, her eyes gleaming with unshod tears, but her face was puffy and red so you knew she had been crying recently.

“What happened?” You asked quietly.

How did I survive?

“I- I felt you go unconscious, through our mental link. And I- I found you on-” Feyre’s voice was cut off by a sob.

Nesta sighed, to your left. But it wasn’t an angry sigh, like you were used to. Your head turned to look at her, seeing tears on her own face as well.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen her cry.

“She could you at the rocks below the House of Wind,” Nesta explained, her hands sneaking under the blanket and taking your left one in them, her thumbs rubbing over the back of it in a comforting manner. “You were… You were nearly gone, when we found you.”

“She and Madja saved you, but they said you might have some… Residual pain, because of the amount of damage,” Elain said softly, her own hands resting on top of the blanket over your right hand.

You blinked at the three of them, lost for words.

The pain in your chest flared again, reminding you of exactly why you were in this situation.

“I… I’m sorry for worrying you…” You whispered, guilt overtaking you as your right hand came to rub at your heart, attempting to soothe its pain, as futile as it was.

“Why are you sorry?” Nesta asked sharply, and you flinched. “I- I just meant that you have nothing to be sorry about. It’s Azriel who should be apologizing, and to you.”

Tears flooded your eyes at the mere mention of his name, and Feyre’s fingers wiped them away with a soft cloth with so much care that you began to sob.

“Oh, sissy, I’m sorry,” Feyre said, and climbed into the bed next to you, her body curling into yours like it did for so many years in that cold, run down cottage. “I’m so, so sorry,” she cooed as she rocked your body gently, joined to her back by Elain and Nesta to your left. “For what it’s worth, he realized what an… Error… He made,” Feyre said softly, but it only made you cry more.

That meant that he had hurt Elain, and that was the last thing that you wanted.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. I don’t…” Elain paused, trying to find the right words. “I don’t want to be with my sister’s mate, especially not… Not with the circumstances. He won’t tell us exactly what happened, just that… He rejected the bond quickly, and is now searching for a way to heal it.”

Your sobs quieted at that information, your mind confused.

“What?”

“Azriel is… Attempting to make amends with you,” Nesta said, clearly angry with just the suggestion. “Though what he thinks he can do to fix it, I don’t know.”

Elain sighed. “Really, I’m sorry Y/N. If I had known he was your mate… I never would have accepted his advances.”

“It’s okay, ‘Lain. I… I should have told him sooner, given him… An actual choice, not sprung it on him last night.”

“Starfall was a week ago, Y/N. He’s been stalking your room since we brought you here, his shadows are practically coating the door at all times. Feyre hasn’t let them in, though,” Nesta explained.

Your brow furrowed. A week? You had been out for a week?

“You needed the time to heal as much as you could. You woke up a couple of times, but it never lasted for long, your were in too much pain,” Feyre said softly, one of her hands running though your hair.

“Can… Is he… Is he waiting now?” You asked quietly, though you weren’t sure which answer you were hoping for.

Your sisters exchanged weary glances, but Elain was the one who nodded in confirmation.

“Would I be able to speak with him?”

Nesta sighed and squeezed your hand tightly. “Are you sure? I could go roast him alive instead? Save you the trouble of taking him out?”

Despite the pain still throbbing in your heart, your lips curled up at her suggestion. “No, I’ll be… Fine, Nes. I just… Need to do this.”

“Okay, we’ll tell him that he can come in. Would you like any of us to stay?” Elain asked, her eyes soft and worried.

You shook you head. “No, I think it would be better for us to talk alone.”

“If you need us, or to have him leave, just reach out for me, okay sissy?” Feyre suggested, giving you one last squeeze before she slipped from the bed.

“I will, FeyFey,” you said, giving her a soft smile in an attempt to reassure her that you were fine.

Nesta opened the door to your bedroom, shadows instantly flooding inside as she did. You could spot Azriel’s massive frame in the doorway, his wings drooped to the ground.

You heard Nesta hiss something at him, too quietly for you to hear, but the way his wings fell further and his accepting nod came across, you were certain that she had threatened to cut off important body parts if you ended up even more hurt.

Azriel entered the bedroom, his eyes cast to the ground as he stood in the center of the room. Elain left next, avoiding looking at Azriel as she did. Feyre was the last to go, leveling Azriel with a deathly cold stare. You knew that she was the most shaken up by the experience- you and your twin had always had a strong connection, almost like you could read each other’s minds, even before Feyre obtained the magic to actually do so.

She turned in the doorway, her eyes locking with yours. You smiled slightly and nodded at her.

You would be fine.

It’s not like there’s any way Azriel can hurt you more, what with the bond already destroyed in your chest.

The door snicked shut behind her, though you could still hear their heartbeats lingering in the hallway outside, ready to step in if they heard anything concerning.

“So…” You started, once the two of you had been in silence for a few minutes.

“So… I… I wanted to apologize, Y/N. I wish I could take back my cruel words, and undo the rejection of the bond. I don’t know what I was thinking, moving so quickly,” Azriel said, his voice the saddest that you had ever heard it.

Still, you didn’t say anything.

“I am so, so sorry Y/N. I want to take away your pain, I want to do anything that I can to help you. You are my mate and I have done so much wrong by you. Please, Y/N. Please give me another chance,” he begged.

And it broke you.

Your arms came out from under the blanket without you meaning to, reaching for him-

Your mate.

Your mate who was begging for your forgiveness.

Begging for you.

The broken bond in your chest ached even as his hands met yours, grasping them tightly as he kneeled on the bed before you, tears in his eyes.

“Please, let me try everything I can to repair the bond. Let me earn your trust and love, Y/N.”

You sighed and bit your lip, considering his words, the conviction with which he said them.

“Is… Is there a way to fix the bond?” You asked tentatively, squeezing his hands gently.

“There are ways, yes. They require multiple detailed rituals under the separate phases of the moon, with a priestess’s help. I… I’ve already had a priestess practice the rituals, in case you were to say yes. Of course, we’ll only start when you’re ready.”

You nodded slowly.

You could have your mate.

If you wanted.

“When can we start?”

💙🤍💙🤍💙

A month later, you and Azriel had completed the four rituals required to repair the mating bond.

The priestess had warned you that the bond would likely feel slightly hollow, not quite as strong as they normally do once accepted.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you baked a blackberry cheesecake for your mating ceremony with Azriel- it was the first dessert the two of you had shared in your very first date, while you were still on bed rest after your…

Accident.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you lifted a bite of the cheesecake to Azriel’s mouth as your family watched on, clapping and congratulating the two of you quickly before they winnowed out of the Town House, which Rhys and Feyre had gifted to the two of you.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care once the mating frenzy had subsided, laying in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, hand clutching at your heart.

Phantoms pains still rang through you every day, rattling your bones. The bond was there, yes, but it had been killed and brought back to life, reanimated in your chest and torturing you in life.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you slid Truthteller across your thigh in the middle of the night while Azriel slept in the next room, needing to feel a pain that was real to distract you from how much you didn’t care that the bond wasn’t whole.

You told yourself that you didn’t care that Azriel wanted you for the bond, and likely the bond alone.

The moments that made you not care were the ones where Azriel’s attentions made the bond flare to life in you, imitating the wholeness that you could have once had.

His soft kisses on your lips and sweet nothings whispered in your ears, gentle scarred hands caressing your own scars, trying to erase every pain that he had caused you.

You swore that you didn’t care as you saw his eyes linger on Elain at family dinners, convinced yourself that you didn’t see longing and lust in his hazel eyes as he took in your elder sister, finally attempting to fulfill her own bond with Lucien.

You did the same as his eyes lingered on every pretty female you passed on your walks through Velaris, wishing that he would look at you with the same heated looks he did for them.

Even as you grew with child, you promised to yourself that you didn’t care that the bond felt like it was dying in your chest, draining you of your energy.

All you had ever wanted was to have a husband and a baby, someone who would love you forever, and a sweet child to raise, to shield from the cruelty of the world.

And of course, you told yourself that you didn’t care when he came home smelling of another female, his clothes slightly out of place and hair tousled while you were on bed rest, the lingering pain from your attempt making you unable to walk on your own.

Azriel was with you during labor, and the bond between the two of you shined the brightest then, with your hand squeezing his, nearly to the point of breaking bones, as you pushed and pushed and pushed, finally rewarded with your beautiful baby girl-

The absolute copy of her father, stunning hazel eyes, thick and curly dark hair, and tiny, fluttering wings on her back.

The labor took so much out of you, the wings having torn your body open, but finally, after hours of healing from Feyre and Madja, you were given the absolute joy of holding your firstborn.

You beamed down at her, enraptured by how sweet and precious and perfect she was, her little fingers curling around one of yours.

So small. So delicate.

You knew that you would protect her with your life, with everything you had. You would never let anyone hurt her, never let anyone compare her to those around her. She would be safe, and loved, and love herself like you had never had the chance to.

So you told yourself that you didn’t care, because she was worth it.

She was worth everything.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

the 1 Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @historygeekqueen @angelbunny222

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vettelsvee · 1 month ago

Text

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 5: I'LL NEVER LEAVE... NEVER MIND [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist | wattpad f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask anything or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader

word count: 4437

summary: after not seeing each other in almost five years, seb and y/n finally meet with just one purpose for her: telling seb they have a 4 year old daughter. will y/n be able to tell him?

warnings: mentions of sex. i think nothing else but i literally cried while writing this. i recommend that you listen to loml by taylor swift while reading this hehe

taglist: [ @saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]

a/n: i'm finally back! sorry you had to wait this long to get a new chapter but writers block had me going like crazy, as well as my mental health in general. i had something else planned for today BUT be aware of what I'm posting tomorrow since you might like it! christmas is coming soon and i have a surprise ready for you. let me remind you that feedback and reposts are truly appreciated. and also comment me your thoughts and theories on the story pls! missed you so much guys, thank you for everything, love you all <3

May 15th Heppenheim, Germany

“Y/N, remember that you need to be careful with what you say to Seb. I know you want to tell him about Emily, but also consider whether today is the right time. Imagine if…”

You stop listening to Hanna the moment her lips utter your daughter’s name. Instead, your mind started creating a thousand different scenarios about what could happen when you saw your ex-boyfriend today. Your gaze remained fixed on the mirror in your room.

You only returned home five days ago, but it felt like an eternity.

You knew perfectly well why, or rather, you knew perfectly well who was to blame for your distorted sense of time: Sebastian Vettel, of course.

The trip to London felt like a fresh start. While the main reason to go was your meeting with Capital Records to discuss what your near future might hold, you considered it as an opportunity to rethink what you wanted to do with your life from now on.

You had just turned 30, and the only thing you longed for was to start this new decade with a clean slate in every possible way. That, of course, included facing your past mistakes and recognizing your faults, one of which you might be about to commit today.

Hanna acted as some sort of mediator between you and Seb because, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t bring yourself to send him even the simplest of messages. The driver seemed to understand, as he told Hanna not to worry, that he understood, and that all you needed to do was show up without standing him up.

Despite having agreed to meet at your house, you decided to dress up a little to present yourself in the best way possible. After spending far more time than you’d like to admit choosing what to wear, you settled on a light blue knee-length dress and white Converse sneakers, with a bracelet your daughter made (or better said your mother made, just Emily took credit for).

"Y/N, are you even listening to me?"

The reflection of your best friend in the mirror startled you. You turned towards her, trying to maintain the calm you’ve lacked since returning from London. Exactly five days that have felt like five years.

Like the five years since you last saw Seb.

"Hey, cat got your tongue or what?" insisted the blonde. "Seriously, Y/N, I want you to be speechless, but preferably when you and Seb take the conversation from the couch to the bed and he makes you scream his name again just like he used to do when..."

"Hanna, for God's sake, shut up! Seb and I are only going to talk about..."

"I know, I know, I was just trying to make you laugh. You know I like to..."

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

If you were restless before, pacing back and forth in your room, checking that there was no trace of Emily in the house for Seb to find, now you were frozen like a statue.

You looked at Hanna, and she looked back at you. You shrugged, but Hanna just put her exaggeratedly unfriendly faces.

"Hanna, no..."

"It's Seb, Y/N! It's just Seb, for heaven's sake," she interrupted, and you cut her off just as fast.

"It's the Seb I haven't seen in five years!" you stammered, feeling the anxiety taking over. "Seriously, Hanna, this was a very, very bad idea. I don’t even know why I asked you to tell him to come and..."

"Because he's the father of your daughter, and your only goal is to tell him!" she yelled, trying not to raise her voice too much but failing miserably. You hoped to God Vettel didn’t hear that.

"Hanna..."

"Since I know you're not going to open the door, I'll do it myself. Stay here or come down, do whatever you want, but I'll tell Seb to come find you because clearly, you can't handle welcoming your guest," she declared.

Without saying anything else, she strided out of your room. You could only follow her, practically tripping down the stairs, legs trembling like a teenager on her first date. Your pulse was pounding in your temples, while your mind kept screaming at your body to calm down.

As soon as you stepped onto the ground floor, you saw Hanna opening the door. Her cheerful voice broke the silence, asking Seb how he was and, to your surprise, inviting him in.

You inched closer, not quite enough for them to notice you. Then you stopped, inspecting Seb from head to toe, as if you didn't already know every inch of his body by heart. Even though you were used to seeing him on TV and social media daily, it felt like you haven’t seen him in all this time you’ve been out of touch. He was wearing a slightly worn-out white t-shirt and jeans. His hair was perfectly trimmed, though a bit longer on top, and his beard, probably several days old, was what caught your attention the most, looking just the way you liked it.

But what really captivated you was the bouquet of yellow tulips he was holding, just like he used to bring you for dates or whenever it was a special day for either of you back when you were dating.

You swallowed hard, guilt washing over you as you thought, for a fleeting moment, about him handing you a flower bouquet before you told him you were having his baby.

"Hi..."

You thought your whisper was too soft to be heard, but it was quite the opposite.

Both Seb and Hanna turned to look at each other, then focused on you, still standing in the entryway. Your best friend tensed up slightly, but you tried to reassure her with a slight movement of your hands. The expression on your ex-boyfriend’s face seemed to light up at your small intervention, even if it was minimal.

“Well, Seb, I'll leave you with Y/N. I have a few errands to run…” Your friend tried to excuse herself, though both of you knew it wasn’t true. “See you later for a drink guys!

She winked and quickly slipped out, shutting the door behind her before either of you could even say goodbye.

Now, it was just the two of you, alone.

Seb looked at you again, and you couldn’t help it but get lost in the blue of his eyes. The situation felt strange. You used to cherish every moment of being alone together, but now you didn’t even know how to say a simple "hello."

You once trusted him completely, and now you were unsure whether to offer him a drink or tell him that you have a four-year-old daughter.

“Hi, sunshine,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Hi, Seb.”

He took a step towards you, slowly moving closer. You noticed how his gaze shifted from the flowers to your eyes, as if he was searching for some kind of answer from you. His eyes reflected a mixture of nervousness and tenderness, stirring a whirlwind of emotions inside you.

He didn’t have to say it, you could see it in his eyes. He was afraid of how you’d react to this gesture, this little detail that used to drive you crazy, but now… you didn’t know how to feel about it.

You, on the other hand, were utterly stunned.

How, after all this time and how cold you ended things, could he still do this? How could he still remember?

“These... are for you,” he finally said, his voice low and shaky. He handed you the bouquet, his hands trembling.

You met his gaze, and the way he looked at you was filled with fear, insecurity, and maybe, just maybe, a bit of tenderness. He didn’t need to say it out loud because you knew him too well. He was afraid of how you’d react to this gesture.

“Thank you,” you managed to say, taking your time to smell the flowers.

You couldn’t hold it in. Tears began to blur your vision, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you.

He noticed. Even though you didn’t want to, even though you didn’t feel capable of getting close enough to give him a kiss on the cheek or maybe even a hug, Seb did it anyway.

“It's okay, Y/N,” he whispered. “It’s okay...”

But it wasn’t okay… it was far from okay.

Sebastian Vettel was here, once again, standing in front of you, and possibly back in your life. The boy you once considered your best friend, the best friend you fell in love with, the driver you always supported, and most importantly, the father of your child, was back in your life in such an unexpected way that it still felt surreal.

“I don’t know...” you tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. “It feels surreal that after everything, after such an empty goodbye, here we are, together again,” you confessed. “It’s weird seeing you in front of me in the flesh and not as pixels on a screen.”

“Y/N…”

“I’ve missed you, Seb. So much.”

You knew your honesty didn’t catch him by surprise, because he felt the same way. That’s what hurt the most.

“I missed you too, Y/N. I really did...” he said after a moment, wrapping his arms around you, and you pressed your face against his chest.

“Seb…”

“Don’t overthink it, really,” he interrupted gently. “I’m not here to talk about the past or blame anyone,” he paused, letting out a breath before continuing. “I just want us to go back to who we were before we were together. But, if I’m being honest, we’ve been in love with each other for so long that I can’t remember a time when you weren’t my everything.”

Your lips trembled. The weight of his words was too much for you to handle, at least today, in a first encounter where you haven’t even spent ten minutes together.

You felt awful. You felt shattered inside knowing that if you were in this situation, it was because of you.

“Well, Y/N, tell me…”

“No, no,” you quickly interrupted, grabbing his arm and guiding him to sit on the couch. Immediately after, you rushed to the kitchen to grab the drinks and snacks you spent all morning preparing. “You tell me first. Even though I’ve seen you on TV, I know you’re very private about your life, you know... You never share anything with the media, and well, you don’t even have social media so… How are you?”

He let out a short laugh as he picked up a bottle of water and a cheese-and-salmon toast.

“Well, to be honest, I’m doing much better than when you left me,” he revealed. It didn’t surprise you. After all, it was what you expected him to say. “You must have had your reasons for breaking up with me, and after all these years, I’m not going to ask why you did it. But I won’t lie to you… you left me shattered, Y/N.”

“Seb, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” he cut in softly, making a gentle gesture with his hand to calm you down. “Like I said, I’m not looking for an explanation or an apology. I just want you to know how I felt. Mentally… damn, Y/N, you broke me, and I completely lost myself, but at the same time, that’s what gave me the strength to win the championship in 2013,” he looked away from your eyes, shifting his gaze to the wall. Nervously, he started playing with his fingers. “All I could think about was you and that, maybe, there was a chance you were watching...”

“Of course I was, Seb,” you said softly, trying to hold back the tears and keep your composure. “No matter what happened, I never stopped watching or supporting you. I’ve always been, and will always be, your number one fan.”

He nodded, a bittersweet expression crossing his face.

“That year, everything I did was with the thought in mind that you were watching and, somehow, it helped me move forward. But… 2014 was when everything fell apart,” he admitted. “Red Bull wasn’t the same anymore, or at least, I didn’t feel the same way. I wasn’t winning, Daniel was beating me… I felt like I had lost everything, including you and, with time, I started to feel like I had no reason to stay with the team or maybe even in Formula 1. Until Ferrari offered me the contract.”

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Unlike any regular sports fan, you found out through Heike when you were out for a walk with Emily.

“When I was given the chance to sign with Ferrari in 2015... Y/N, really, that’s when I realized it wasn’t the end. That’s what I needed to move forward. I think I mentioned it to you on WhatsApp, but I don’t know if you remember…”

You swallowed hard. Of course, you remembered. He told you just before the news became public, before his mum told you, but you didn’t know how to answer him or if you really should do it. The demons in your head made you think it was a joke, even just an excuse to get closer to you. And you also felt that if he did sign with Ferrari, it would open a door you had closed because you weren’t ready to face the truth.

Just like you were doing now.

“I remember, yes,” you murmured, unable to look him in the eyes.

“When I didn’t get a reply from you I decided not to push it. That’s when I realized you didn’t want anything to do with me. Yet I kept sending you stuff as you might know…”

“That’s not it…” You could barely speak. You were as broken as he was. “I read the message, Seb, but… I burst into tears and didn’t have the strength to reply. I didn’t want to give you false hope when I wasn’t ready to… I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already had,” you confessed. “I knew that if I spoke to you again, I’d hurt you again. And I’d hurt myself too. I couldn’t do that to you, Seb.”

He nodded, looking for some kind of affirmation in your gaze.

“At first, I felt really out of place on the team, you know? And I felt that way for a long time,” he revealed. “It was completely out of my comfort zone, and I felt like I’d never fit in. But little by little, Kimi, Maurizio, and the team made me feel like family. It’s strange to think about it now, but I can’t imagine being with any team other than Ferrari.” You agreed with him, from what you had seen on TV, it was clear he felt that way. “Fighting for the world title with them this year and having a real shot at beating Mercedes… I never thought I’d get to this point.”

You looked at him with a mix of admiration and nostalgia. This was the Seb you knew, the Seb with ambition, who always desired more and more. The Seb who never gave up.

The Seb who didn’t break down, even when he had every reason to.

“I’m so proud of you, Seb. I’ve always been, and I always will be. Don’t forget that.”

“Of course, Y/N,” he looked uncomfortable. Quite a bit, actually. “Well… enough about me. You know I don’t like talking about myself… What about you? What have you been up to all this time? My mom told me a bit, and I’ve seen you a few times, but…”

More than not knowing what to say, you sensed he didn’t want to intrude too much into your life.

You swallowed, trying not to get more nervous than you already were, because now, you supposed, was the moment to tell him about Emily.

“Well, not much has changed, really,” you started, unsure of what to say. “I’ve been in Heppenheim the whole time, except for a couple of trips to Berlin, but nothing unusual,” you tried to smile, but your mind kept circling around the fact that you had to tell him you had a daughter. “I’ve been working at the bar and writing music. To be honest, since we broke up I’ve had a lot more inspiration.”

And since I gave birth to Emily, you thought.

Seb didn’t say anything. You figured he understood. After all, he had thrown himself into his career to cope, while you had poured your emotions into writing songs about the story you shared to cope with grief.

“Now things have changed a bit,” you continued, trying to sound more upbeat to push away the painful memories. “Ever since Red went viral… I swear, I uploaded it without expecting anything, but the reaction…”

“The song is amazing, Y/N. Of course it went viral.”

“I’ve been offered a record deal,” you blurted out. “A few years ago, I met Niall Horan at the bar. You know, the guy who was on that band, One Direction…” Seb nodded, his eyes wide, encouraging you to continue. “He told me he was traveling to find some inspiration for his solo career, and I guess Heppenheim seemed like a good place for him to visit.”

“Wait, wait… a record deal?”

“Apparently, Niall told his label that I was the voice behind Red, and, well… Capital Records offered me a contract,” you explained. “They called me to have a meeting in London, which is why we couldn’t meet up last time…”

His face was calm, unreadable, though his mouth had curved into a big smile. He didn’t seem surprised, and you knew there was a strong chance Hanna had told him everything.

If that was true…

“I hope you accepted, Y/N.”

“Well… actually, I didn’t. I turned it down.”

His smile faded for a moment, and his expression became completely serious.

“You turned it down? Why? Sunshine, this is an opportunity…”

“Yes, I know it’s an amazing opportunity, but I can’t accept it. Not right now.”

You figured this was the moment you should tell him the real reason behind rejecting such a big deal, which included a tour if you sold a certain amount of CDs.

Sebastian kept staring at you, which only made you more nervous. You tried to gather your thoughts, searching for the right way to tell him you had a four-year-old daughter, but you couldn’t find the moment.

You couldn’t just drop it on him now, after all, this was your first real conversation in almost five years.

“Y/N, darling…”

“I can’t take the risk when the only thing I’ve managed is to get one song out of all the ones I sent to the label to go viral,” you half-lied. It was true that you didn’t want to talk about it yet, but you were also insecure about your music. “As much as I’d love to have an album, to fill stadiums and have people singing along to my songs, I can’t take that risk.”

“But, Y/N…”

“I’m not sure all the songs on the album would be successful, Seb.”

“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re going to regret if you let this go....”

“No, Seb, I know exactly what I’m doing, really,” you shook your head, firm in your decision. “This is the best thing for me.”

And for Emily too, though you didn’t say that out loud.

Seb remained silent for longer than you would have liked, as if trying to process what you’d just told him. Then, he stood up, crouching down to your level, and taking your hands in his, he said:

“Alright. If you think your songs aren’t good enough, sing one of them to me.”

“What?” you asked, confused.

“If you turned down the record deal because you think your songs aren’t good enough for the world to hear, sing one of them to me.”

His tone, though calm, was direct and insistent.

“Seb… I can’t. I’m too embarrassed,” you laughed nervously.

“Come on, Y/N,” he said, gently rubbing your hands with his thumbs, just like he always did when your anxiety was at its worst. “It’s just me. I’m still the same after all these years.”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to let it go until you gave in. It was Seb, and he always got what he wanted from you, even when you didn’t want to. In the end, you gave in, carefully standing up from the couch and heading towards the piano at the back of the room, gesturing for him to follow you.

You carefully slided the bench back, lifting the lid as you sat down. You positioned your hands, starting to play the first few chords to warm up, ensuring your memory flawlessly recalled the piece.

“This is song number 5, like your driver number... It's called loml.”

You continued playing, finally giving way to the song.

Who's gonna stop us from waltzing Back into rekindled flames? If we know the steps anyway We embroidered the memories Of the time I was away Stitching, ‘We were just kids, babe.’ I said, ‘I don't mind, it takes time.’ I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed I felt aglow like this Never before and never since.

Your voice shook as you began to sing, but you kept going, holding on to what your ex-boyfriend had told you about how he knew it was about him. As you settled into the song, you started feeling more comfortable, just like you did when you used to sing for Seb. Though you couldn’t look at him because you were absorbed in the key, your fingers delicately moving over it, you could feel his eyes on you.

You shit-talked me under the table Talking rings and talking cradles I wish I could un-recall How we almost had it all Dancing phantoms on the terrace Are they second-hand embarrassed That I can't get out of bed? Cause something counterfeit's dead.

Tears started falling from your eyes as you approached the final part of the song. Memories of your shared history flashed through your mind like a movie. Your vision was completely blurred, and you felt a tightness in your chest that was overwhelming, making it hard to breathe, almost impossible to keep singing. Somehow, though, you fought to hold it together, just as you did the day you said goodbye to the man now sitting beside you.

Oh, what a valiant roar What a bland goodbye The coward claimed he was a lion I'm combing through the braids of lies ‘I’ll never leave’... ‘Never mind.’ Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire Your arson matches your somber eyes And I'll still see it until I die You're the loss of my life.

Silence filled the room as you played the final notes. With your hands still resting on the keyboard, you looked at Seb. Once again, you didn’t know what to say to him, and you knew he didn't either. He was motionless, running a hand through his hair, probably trying to process what he just heard.

Y/Ni, this song... it’s about us, isn’t it?”

“It might be,” you admited, unable to lie to him, at least not about this.

He sighed. You could tell he was affected; you knew it the moment his tears began to form, just as yours continued to flow.

“You should rethink the contract,” he said firmly. “This song deserves to be heard by more than just me, your parents, and Hanna.”

“I can’t, Seb. I just can’t…”

“Can I sit next to you?”

You looked up and saw him gesturing to the bench. Confused, not sure what to do or say, you shifted a little, making space, and he sat beside you. Seb didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you, offering a comfort that felt wonderful but also caused you to crumble a bit more inside.

You surprised yourself by resting your head on his shoulder.

“Why are you so determined to convince yourself you don’t deserve this opportunity?” His tone was soft, just like the way he stroked your hair. “Do you really think you're not good enough to be a successful singer?”

“It’s not about being good enough, it’s that I’m not,” you whisper,ed your throat tightening. “I’m not a good person, Seb, and it’s only a matter of time before I screw up again and hurt someone, just like I hurt you.”

“Does this… have something to do with the second date in your YouTube channel username?”

You stood your head up, staring at him in confusion while trying not to panic.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your username,” he repeated, moving closer. “I figured out that the numbers represent two dates. I know for sure that one of them is June 15, 2006, the day we started dating, but the other one… I don’t know what January 12, 2014 means for you because we weren’t talking by then, but it must be important. And based on what you just said…”

Your eyes widened in shock. You were paralyzed, not knowing how to react.

How could he have noticed something so… insignificant? How had he connected the dots and figured out the dates you had in mind when you created that account?

You thought this would be the perfect moment to tell him that the second date marks the birth of your daughter, the daughter you had together; that on that day, while you were in labor, he was at the hospital waiting for some exams results and he was talking to your dad, who couldn’t contain his excitement about his granddaughter’s arrival and had to keep it a secret from him.

But you couldn’t. Not yet. You need to regain his trust first. You and Seb needed to rebuild the kind of relationship you had before you became the love of each other’s lives.

“Seb…” you trailed off, unable to continue. “I swear, on everything that matters to you, I’ll tell you, but right now… I just can’t.”

He looked at you for a few seconds that felt like an eternity. You knew him better than you knew yourself, and you knew he was persistent, that he needed an answer, but you also knew he was respectful and wouldn't push you.

“That’s okay,” he said finally, a bit resigned. “I understand, it’s fine. I’m not asking you to tell me now if you’re not ready, but I want you to know that when you are, I’ll be here to listen.”

You looked at him, grateful, and nodded without saying anything else.

You both sat at the piano bench for a while, in silence, listening only to the sound of your breathing and the melody of the song replaying in your mind, as intrusive thoughts overwhelmed you.

“If I waited almost 19 years of my life to be your boyfriend, I can wait a little longer, it doesn’t matter the time you need, for you to tell me,” Seb finally spoke, and his words broke you a little more than you already were. “Let’s be friends again, what do you think?” he offered, giving you a small smile. “Let’s take things slowly, like maybe we should have done when we first started dating. You know…”

“Slowly, no problem,” you repeated, smiling back at him.

You felt a weight lift from your shoulders at his words. Maybe you were not at the peak of your relationship, and maybe you’d never got back there, but at least you were working together to turn your story into something new.

“You know what, Y/N? I’ve always felt like our story wasn’t over. I don’t just mean that romantically, but in a broader sense,” he said quickly. “We have a whole lot of history, and now is when we’re going to start writing our second book.”

“I know, Seb. I’ve been thinking the same thing ever since I said goodbye to you,” you confess. “That day, goodbyes were bittersweet, but I knew it wasn’t the end and that I’d see you again.”

Before the year ends. I’m telling Seb Emily is her daughter before December 31st.

160 notes · View notes

bruhnze · 4 months ago

Text

Fuck this - Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Summary: Jealous Lucy.

Warnings: A lot of bad words, smut. Minors DNI. Not proof read :) THIS IS X-RATED!!!

Wordcount: 4k

i dedicate this one to you @onabronze and to the anons that asked it's not really good but i tried :).

(i've emptied my inbox so if your ask is not on my WIP pls send again (if u still want it done) because i had so much garbage in there i just removed everything in one go, sorry not sorry😬)

Ps: We do not hate Germany (don't come for me, it was for the plot)!

´´fuck this shit´´ Lucy mumbled to herself as she was running faster and faster on the treadmill, ´´fucking dick-head ref, that’s not a fucking yellow´´. ‘’Cata is a fucking goalie, you fuck ass pigfucker, really strange for her to use her hands, huh, dumb fuck’’.

´´that’s a lot of f-bombs Bronze’’ Millie tried to joke, not noticing how worked up the English defender really was.

‘’Fuck off Millie’’, Bronze called as she stopped the machine and ran off with her eyes glued to her phone.

‘’Bruh’’ Lauran giggled, ‘’you know Spain Germany is on right now’’.

‘’Oh really’’ Millie said confused, ‘’ohh, fuck, her girl is playing for Spain right’’.

‘’Yeah, they’re losing’’ Sam called from the bench on the side of the gym, ‘’Gwinn is about to take a penal and she hasn’t missed a single one for club’’.

‘’Are you watching that?’’ James asked while she strutted over to the Australian, ‘’let me watch along’’.

‘’Ofcourse mate’’ Sam chuckled, ‘’I watch everything’’.

‘’Do we check on her?’’ Millie asked, mostly directed to Lauren, as she knows her best.

‘’Nah’’ James says, ‘’if you like to live you’d best leave her alone’’.

‘’Sure?’’.

‘’Yes, we’ll just give her some boxing gloves as the game is over’’.

‘’Ona doesn’t deserve this shit, what a horseshit head coach’’.

‘’Putellas missing a penalty what a fucking joke’’.

‘’You’re a cunt Berger, A CUNT!’’.

Lauren knocked on the doorpost of the locker-room, ‘’Ey Luce, they’re looking for someone to break in the new boxing gloves’’.

‘’I hate those German wankers with their ugly kits’’.

The English forward suppressed a giggle, ‘’yeah they suck, but you should turn it of bruv, it’s no point of watching them cry’’.

‘’Ona is going to be devastated’’, Lucy said as she looked up and stared ahead, as if she’s just realized it.

‘’Are you seeing her soon?’’ Lauren asked carefully.

Lucy snapped out of her trance and looked at her friend, ‘’yeah she coming tomorrow’’.

‘’To London?’’.

‘’Yes, she has ten days off’’.

''Well then you have enough time to comfort her''.

Lucy sighed ''yeah, I'll just quickly send her a text and then we'll box, I'm going to turn off this stream bullshit''. She says as she looked back at her phone and saw Paralluelo crying. ‘’my heart can’t take this’’, she muttered quietly without James hearing it.

When she was driving back ‘home’ from the training ground she received a call, it was Ona.

‘’Hey love’’, Lucy said timidly, not sure about if Ona’s mood would be more sad or angry, or maybe both.

Instead Ona answered pretty lightly, ‘’hey Luce, how are you?’’.

‘’Huh?’’ Lucy said, maybe a bit too loud ‘’I should be asking you that’’.

‘’Montse just scolded us for an hour’’ Ona said, ‘’but for some reason I don’t care about the loss, Germany was just better and I think Cata needs a psychologist after she’s broken her nose, she’s been out of it for every game after it’’.

‘’You deserved to win’’ Lucy said with tears in her eyes.

Ona chuckled ‘’I love you Lucy, but honestly, I’ve got respect for the Germans, they played well’’.

‘’I hate the Germans’’.

Ona chuckled louder, ‘’no Luce, you can not say that because they won Bronze’’.

‘’I hate Montse then’’.

‘’Okay’’, Ona laughed ‘’I agree with that one’’. ‘’But I am going to dinner with my family tonight, so I have to get ready in a little bit, you texted me to call you when I had time, so that’s why I called’’.

‘’Oh wow’’ Lucy said, a little hurt ‘’not because you wanted to hear your girlfriends voice’’.

‘’I see you tomorrow’’, Ona chuckled.

‘’That’s true but I still miss you today’’ Lucy sighed, ‘’maybe I’m a wuss, but I just feel bad for you Oni and I thought you might have needed some comfort’’.

‘’I love you, but I have to get ready’’ Ona laughed, ‘’see you tomorrow?’’.

‘’or you can call me tonight after dinner?’’.

‘’I think I will go to bed straight after, I am extremely tired’’.

‘’I understand, do you want to stay on the phone when you get ready?’’.

‘’Okay’’ Ona said as she put her phone on speaker.

After Ona had hung up because her cab was about to be there, Lucy thought about what she would eat for dinner.

She looked around her kitchen, ''fuck'' she mumbled ''i should clean this shit up''.

She opened her phone and ordered some sushi for tonight, 'because she deserved some comfort food' and got to work.

Her appartment was still a bit of a mess after the quick move in, and she needed it to be presentable for her girlfriend tomorrow. Ona would probably start cleaning her place and she didn't want to be a partner like that, that would be stupid because it was one of her own icks.

As she had cleaned up her apartment the bell rang.

With the sushi she took place at the table and opened the ipad that layed there.

Mindlessly she went on Twitter, she was logged on to her anonymous account and went on the hashtag 'Ona Battle'. She knew she shouldn't, but she was curious what the people thought of her performance this game.

Lucy had seen Ona was tired, but when you took in mind she'd played every single minute, and Lucy knew Ona slept very bad in the hotel, she had played very good.

She froze when she saw people joking about Feli and Ona being back together ''what the hell?'' she said to herself as she went deeper into the rabbithole and eventually came aross pictures of Ona in a Germany shirt, and not just any German shirt, it was the ugly 'Rauch 19' one.

Lucy was tempted to send a teasing text, maybe even with the picture attached, but she chose not too.

She couldn't help to feel a little anger inside her towards Feli, and as she came across a video of them chatting and giggling Lucy lost her shit and quickly closed the Ipad.

She jumped up from the table ''Fucking hell, not bothered about losing, fuck that'', she started pacing the room ''Germay deserved it'' she mocked, ''sure Ona, if you want to fuck her just say that''.

Lucy walked to her kitchen and fetched a beer from the fridge that was left from when Jorge had helped her with building some furniture ''fuck it'', she thought she might aswell have this because it was such a shitty night.

She took the beer to the bathroom and ran a bath, after that she went back to the kitchen to grab her ipad and got in, eventhough she had already taken a shower this afternoon.

Finaly she felt a little better, she had watched some episodes of a series she was watching and after two hours she decided to just go to bed early, Ona didn't want to call anyways so she didn't see the point of staying up. Might aswell get some rest before she saw Ona again tomorrow, eventhough she'd probably be very tired, so Lucy doubted they'd do anything, but atleast she'd be able to take care of her better.

As she got comfy in her bed she opened her phone to check one last time if Ona had sent her a text.

She hadn't.

Then she opened Instagram, scrolling for a little while.

She was just about to shut her phone when she saw @feli_rauch on her timeline, ''bitch'' she grumbled and as she took a better look she saw it was a teamphoto of the Germans, she only saw one person wearing a red shirt in the whole group.

''No way'' she said out loud as she zoomed in, ''are you kiddin' me'' - ''the only fucking shirt swap and it's my girlfriends' ''.

She closed her phone, trew it on the nightstand and dramatically dropped herself on the bed to go to sleep.

As she remembered she still had to put on an alarm and it would be probably best to have her phone on the charger she reached out to put the nightlamp on and fetched it.

When she held her phone it automatically unlocked with face-ID, and she saw that god-awfull team picture again ''fuckkkkkk'' she groaned as she swiped instagram away ''this is one big joke''.

After she had finally put in an alarm and found her charger, she put the light out and layed down again.

She tried hard to sleep but her mind kept wondering off to Ona.

Normally she wouldn't mind that one bit, sometimes her hand would even find it's way between her legs when she thought about her hot, beautiful girlfriend.

But not this time, her mind was polluted with images of Feli and Ona laughing together.

She knew Feli was Ona's ex, she had never really been bothered about it, eventhough she knew her mind was just being a bit stupid, she couldn't help to think back about what Ona had told her about Feli after Lucy had asked her how she had ever been with Feli.

''I wasn't really with her, we just fucked''. Ona had said laughing, ''but i soon found out she was very vanilla and for a relationship we would never ever work''.

Lucy knew she shouldn't have asked the question, but she had, ''but was she good?''.

Ona had asked her if she really wanted to know, and she had confirmed that she did.

After the answer she had regretted asking it, ''uhm, well, at the things she did do she was pretty good at, it just got boring very quickly'' Ona had said.

Now she was laying in bed with the thoughts of Feli fucking Rauch having her way with her precious Ona.

The thought that the German had tasted Ona sickened her.

The thought that the German had been inside Ona sickened her.

But the thought that Ona had, at one point, enjoyed it, got her blood boiling.

Maybe it was the distance.

Maybe it was because they hadn't been able to be intimate for a few weeks now.

Maybe it was the fact Ona hadn't told her about the shirt swap.

But Lucy felt jealous like she had never before.

Lucy woke up from her alarm, and checked her messages.

None from Ona.

She freshened up and got dressed.

Nothing from Ona.

In the kitchen she made herself some breakfast.

Nothing from Ona.

She went through the kitchen cupboards and refrigerator and wrote out a grocery list.

Nothing from Ona.

Lucy knew she would be flying in a couple of hours, so she decided to send a text herself, eventhough she had wanted Ona to text her first.

It was afternoon, Lucy was waiting in her blue Skoda outside of the airport. When she saw the beautiful freckled woman walking outside, searching for her, she jumped out of the car.

Ona was wearing sunglasses and a hat, but Lucy would always recognise her.

She opened her trunk and walked towards Ona.

''Hello baby'', she said happily.

''Luce!'', Ona said as she sped up her pace walking to her girlfriend.

They shared an embrace, ''i have missed you so much'' Ona muttered against the taller woman.

Lucy held Ona away from her to take a look at her face, ''i have missed you too''.

''I want to kiss you, so lets get in the car please'', Ona said smiling.

Lucy hastily threw the suitcase into the car and got back in the drivers seat as she saw Ona was already in the car.

''Your suitcase was pretty light'' Lucy said as she hopped in next to Ona.

''Yeah, i gave a lot of my stuff with Joan, i'm planning to wear your clothes anyways'' Ona stated.

''Oh'' Lucy said as she smiled at her girlfriend, ''and cool frames by the way''.

She leant in to kiss Ona.

They shared a kiss full of love, it was adamant that they had both missed eachother.

Not wanting to risk being spotted by anyone Lucy pulled back and got ready to drive off, reversing out of the parking spot.

''What yours is mine'' Ona chuckled, ''you said it yourself''.

''True'', Lucy said as she put her hand on Ona's thigh and drove away ''it's cute''.

Lucy carried Ona's suitcase to her apartment, and handed Ona the key to get them inside.

''Should i unpack your stuff? is there anything in here that needs to be washed?''.

''Uhm, i don't think so, i have only worn a few clothes, mostly the olympic stuff and those are with Joan, he is going to wash that for me''.

''Clever'' Lucy chuckled, ''putting your brother to work''.

Ona grinned, ''ofcourse, but maybe i will take a shower now and then we can nap together?''.

''I'd love that'' Lucy said, ''oh and let me show you around quickly, i almost forgot''.

It was a pretty quick tour, as the apartment wasn´t that big.

´´So here is the kitchen´´, Lucy said smiling as she turned on her heel and spinned.

Ona laughed, ´´are you making us dinner tonight?'' she asked stepping closer to Lucy.

''Of course beautiful'' Lucy said as she pressed herself against the Catalan, ''i was thinking that one tofu dish you like''.

''Hm yes''. Ona groaned, thinking about the dish Lucy made her often, because she liked it so much.

''Good'' Lucy said ''because I bought stuff to make that this morning''.

''You know me so well''.

''Yes'' Lucy smiled, ''and to be known is to be loved''.

''So romantic'' Ona laughed.

''Oh i'm feeling really romantic'' Lucy said as she bit her lip.

´´Really?'' Ona smirked as she put her arms around Lucy's neck and crossed them.

Lucy kissed her softly.

Ona hungerly answered the kiss and tried to get impossibly closer, getting up her tiptoes.

Lucy pulled away with a smile on her face ''but first you wanted to shower right?''.

The Catalan pouted ''i do.. but i also want you''.

The English defender kissed her girlfriend ''i'll be still here after the shower, and i know how you like to shower off the travel''.

''sí okay''.

They went to the bedroom, Lucy leading the way.

Lucy showed the on-suite bathroom and pointed to the towels.

''Leave the door open?'', Lucy asked in the sweetest voice she could put on.

''Sure'' Ona chuckled, ''are you staying in the bedroom?''.

''Yeah i'll put away your clothes really quick, i don't want you living out of a suitcase when you're with me, and i left some space in the closet for you''.

Ona kissed Lucy, ''you're cute''.

''You're cute'', Lucy repeated.

Lucy opened the suitcase, ''you need some underwear? and what do you want to wear or were you really planning on stealing my clothes''.

''huh'' Ona said, ''it's not stealing, it's my right''.

She chuckled until she watched Lucy's face who could appearently not laugh about it, ''what?''.

Lucy stayed silent.

''Sorry'' Ona ''i'll wear my own clothes if you really don't-

''No'' Lucy said, ''why don't you wear this'' she asked with a sarcastic laugh as she held up the white football shirt.

Ona chuckled.

Lucy looked at her in disbelieve ''you think this is funny? tell me why i have a damp German shirt in my hands right now?'''.

''I said my brother was going to wash my stuff right'' Ona said, ''well, match worn is worth more, you know you're supposed to keep the shirts you trade unwashed right?''.

''Fuck that''.

''It's financially responsible'', Ona laughed and stepped towards Lucy to kiss her.

With a quick peck she wanted to walk away.

Lucy didn't have any of that and grabbed her wrist, ''more please''.

Ona chuckled, ''let me shower, then we nap together''.

''Ona''.

Ona sighed but gave in, she held Lucy's face as she kissed her again, this time more slowly.

Lucy hands travelled to Ona's ass and squeezed her cheeks as she pulled the Catalan in closer.

Ona grinned into the kiss, ''you missed me'' she said, with a tone sounding somewhere between a question and a statement.

''Where did you and Feli talk about after the match?'' Lucy said before she could stop herself.

Ona looked up with a mischievious smirk, ''is that what is bothering you?''.

Lucy huffed out some air, ''why did you swap shirts with her''.

''She wanted too''.

''So you said yes? and giggled about it with her?''.

''What did you want me to do then'' Ona chuckled, thinking it was funny seeing this jealous side of Lucy, it was something new.

''I dont know'' Lucy scolded lightly, ''just to tell her to fuck off with her boring shirt''.

Ona laughed ''boring shirt?, how can a shirt be boring''.

''Not the point'' Lucy grumbled, ''you talked to her after the match and you didn't want to speak to me''.

''I had a dinner!'' Ona laughed as she rubbed Lucy's arms, ''don't worry, you are the only one for me''.

She kissed Lucy's pouty face, ''my beautiful *kiss* strong *kiss* smart *kiss* perfect girlfriend *kiss*''.

Lucy pulled the Catalan thighter against her, ''i think i should give you a reminder''.

''What reminder?'' Ona frowned.

''About what good sex is like''.

''Luce!'' Ona slapped her shoulder playfully.

Lucy frowned, ''you want boring sex?''.

''No..''.

''Cus if you want that I could just put that ugly shirt on and we can roleplay that''.

Ona blushed, ''Lucee''.

Lucy's jaw dropped, ''you're not even saying that you don't want that?!''.

''I don't want that'' Ona rushed to say.

Lucy rolled her eyes. ''yeah i totally believe you now''.

''Sorry'' Ona pouted, putting on a cute smile ''i was distracted because you look so hot when you are jealous''.

''Í'm not jealous!''.

''Oh, és clar que no ets gelós'' (oh i see you are not jealous) Ona mockingly chuckled, she reached out to the suitcase and grabbed the shirt.

''Maybe i will wear it today''.

Lucy looked at her with dark eyes.

''It smells like her'' Ona added with a grin.

A second of silence hang in the air.

''Put it on.'' Lucy said.

Ona's smile faded ''No i was just joking''.

Lucy repeated herself ''go on, put it on''.

''I was kidding''.

''i'm not''. ''put. it. on.''.

Ona gulped and took her shirt off to put it on.

Lucy stopped her, ''no wait, first get naked and then put it on'' she said as she took her shorts off.

Ona felt her heartbeat fasten from the way this aroused her and followed the instructions.

''Your panties too'' Lucy said as walked to 'the drawer' and chose a rather large strap-on to wear.

Ona looked excited at Lucy, wearing a cheeky smile.

''You want this one?'' she helt the strap up.

Ona nodded furiously, a blush creeping on her cheeks.

''i can't hear you'' Lucy said as she pretended to put it back in the drawer again and took her shirt off.

''No wait'' Ona said ''yes, i want that one''.

''Okay, i suppose you deserve it right?''.

''Yes'' Ona said desperately ''please Luce, i-''.

''-laughed with an ex'' Lucy said sternly, ''i don't know if that is good girl-behavior''.

Ona kept quiet as Lucy walked towards her on the bed.

Lucy put the strap in her harness and hovered above Ona.

''that's basicly asking her to fuck you'' she wispered as she let her eyes roam the woman below her.

Ona put her hands on Lucy and chuckled ''Luce, you're crazy''.

''You know how i always say you would look perfect in everything?''.

''mhmm'' Ona grinned.

''Well this is awfull'' Lucy plucked at the shirt.

Ona tried to kiss Lucy but Lucy leant back just in time to dodge it.

''Turn around''.

Ona whined but quickly oblidged, this attitude was making her feel some things.

She was on all fours on the bed and without warning Lucy slapped her ass, resulting in a moan escaping her throat without her being able to surpres.

''Im so wet'' Ona whined as she felt herself dripping along her thighs, she looked over her shoulder to read Lucy's face.

''Don't look at me'' Lucy ordered, ''your pretty face doesn't suit this revolting shirt''.

She leaned against Ona to hold her face before she could turn, and gave her a kiss ''you are beautiful'' she said and softly kissed her lips.

When she released Ona's face and let her hand slide over the number '19' she huffed out some air.

''But you should be happy i have a fake cock'' Lucy grumbled, ''cus i could never get a hard-on like this''.

Ona whimpered.

A cracking sound and a moan filled the room.

Lucy watched the flesh of Ona's as jiggle and groped the skin when it turned red.

''Who does this ass belong to?''

Ona groaned ''you''.

Lucy rubbed the tip of her rubber cock along Ona's wetness.

The Catalan's breath hitched in her throat ''Luce'' she chocked out.

Another time Lucy's hand found it's way to Ona's behind with great force.

''Agh'' Ona groaned, ''please Luce''.

Lucy grabbed Ona by her hips and guided her to grind against her.

''please''.

With one hand Lucy reached around for the smaller womans' centre.

With two fingers she traced her lips and collected some wetness before circling her clit.

''Fuck'' Lucy breathed out, ''so wet''.

She had problems with circling one spot at how wet Ona was, her fingers slipping away.

''Who are you so wet for?'' Lucy asked, talking in Ona's ear.

''You Lucy! you''. Ona practically cried out.

With that Lucy carefully slid the strap inside in one fluent movement.

''Merda'' (fuck) Ona moaned as her head slumped to her chest.

Lucy picked up a rhythm that she knew would drive Ona crazy, perfect for building the tension inside her quickly.

But after a few moments Lucy fastened her pace, not able to contain herself she fucked Ona hard and deep, the sight of the fabric around Ona fueling her anger.

She gave her another spanking to 'punish' Ona for wearing the shirt, but she knew it wasn't actually a punishment for Ona, which was confirmed by the filthy moan she let out.

''I'm coming'' Ona cried out as she gripped the sheets with clenched fists.

''Shit, already?'', Lucy groaned and kept thrusting.

''Lucí'' Ona said as her arch deepened.

''Fuck, come for me Ona'' Lucy said as her grip on Ona thightend.

With a loud cry Ona came.

Lucy slowly rode out her orgasm and released her grip on the girl, causing her to flop down on the bed.

The English woman shuffeld and took the strap out of the harness and layed it on the bed besides them, figuring the sheets were ruined anyways.

Lucy pulled Ona around by her shirt.

Ona looked at her with hooded eyes, wearing a content expression from her post-orgasmic bliss.

Lucy smiled, ''hi beautiful''.

Ona grinned as she took Lucy's hands, ''thought you hated it''.

Lucy scrunched her face ''the shirt; yes.. you; no''.

The Catalan smiled, ''i'll take it off'' she said as she sat up.

She stopped as she noticed reticence on Lucy's face.

''What?''.

A smile tugged on Lucy's mouth, ''i'm debating sending her a picture''.

'''Lucy!''. Ona punched her girlfriend.

She snapped out of her dream and redirected her gaze from the shirt to Ona's face. She shook her head quickly, ''sorry, i don't know why i said that''.

Ona chuckled, slapping a hand on her forhead ''jealousy''.

''I don't want her to see that pretty little fucked out face of yours''.

Ona chuckled and held her arms up, ''pull this off, we're throwing it away''.

''I'll sell it for you'' Lucy grinned, ''you didn't do all this effort for nothing, did you?''.

Lucy helped her out of the shirt and threw it so far it landed in the hallway.

''Well, that's gone'' Ona chuckled at the unreasonable attitude Lucy had, and tugged on Lucy's sportsbra ''this can go too''.

Lucy quickly took it off and got on top of Ona.

''Did i go to far?''.

''No''.

Lucy tilted her head questioning.

''I'm sure, it was hot actually, a little gross, but hot''.

''Gross?''.

''Yeah, stinky shirt'' Ona said with a disgusted face, making Lucy chuckle.

''Oh and'' Lucy said as she traced her hands along Ona's skin, ''as much as i hate it, you did look beautiful''.

Ona smirked, ''i thought the things you said were really hot'', ''i am already thinking about who's shirt i'll trade next''.

Lucy narrowed her eyes and shook her head, ''ohh you're bad''.

''Sí, soy fatal'' (i'm a baddie) Ona joked chuckling.

''Que?'' Lucy said, thinking Ona just called herself terrible.

''In spanish we call someone that's unreasonably hot, fatal, it means they're bad but it is like slang'' Ona explained, ''a funny joke, because you called me bad''.

''I get that now'' Lucy laughed, ''that's funny actually, in English you can also say someone is a baddie, same thing''.

''Really?''.

''Sí'' Lucy said, ''god, i will miss our language talks''.

''We call every day'' Ona said, frowning.

Lucy looked at her with a pouty face ''but you don't want to talk to me''.

''Luceee'' Ona dropped her head on the pillow ''I had a dinner!!'' she called out snickering.

''I love when you call out my name'' Lucy said as she ran her hands along Ona's thighs.

Ona looked up with a smirk, ''I love when you make me call out your name''.

''I think I forgot what you taste like'' Lucy said as she crawled on top of Ona.

-----

The end, not theirs.

-Keep an eye out for Feli's shirt on Ebay 😂

Feel free to give me feedback/tips (anonymously) but in a kind way is the most appreciated xx

#woso smut #lucy bronze smut #woso fanfics #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #woso #lucy bronze x ona batlle #ona batlle smut #woso imagine #ona batlle

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igotlovestruck · 1 year ago

Text

LIPS OF AN ANGEL | MM19

↳ TYPE: ig au (written scenario will follow!)

↳ PAIRING: mason mount x fem! wolff! reader

↳ DETAILS AND WARNINGS: angst (more to be added on the main fic!)

↳ AUTHOR’S NOTE: here you go! 😵‍💫 after months omg, i’ve finally had the energy to do this after several revisions n all hahahaha pls wait for the main fic as i’m still writing it, but here’s a lil preview! enjoy <3

↳ TAGGED: @i83andrew @pleasantducktimetravel

—.

fcgossips

liked by user1, user2, user3 and others

fcgossips [sent anonymously]

mason mount spotted with model lia mendes last night in london!

it seems as though mason mount has found himself back to the dating game amidst the breakup rumors with toto wolff’s daughter, y/n wolff. it was reported that the pair has separated ways 4 months ago after y/n deleted all posts and unfollowed the football star; although there was no confirmation happened between the two parties.

we wish mason and his current partner the best 💗

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user4 that looks so much like y/n lol

user5 i went y/n DOOP as soon as i saw her lmao

user6 *she cuz she’s a freaking PERSON and no she doesn’t look anything like y/n!

user7 seems like mason has a type 🤭

user8 convincing myself that l*a is his getaway car

user9 leave them alone, pretty sure mason wouldn’t appreciate the things yall call her gf

user10 lmao i was thinking the same thing!

—

masonmount

liked by cmpulisic, declanrice, liamendes and others

masonmount recents.

view all 2,829 comments

liamendes meu amor 💗

— ❤️ by masonmount

masonmount 💗

user11 omg no way (i mean this in a very nice and genuine way)

user12 ... so it’s really over with y/n huh?

user13 y/n dupe

—

ynwolff

liked by yourbffsig, susie_wolff, yourmomsig and others

ynwolff life lately

view all 2,793 comments

yourbffsig girl i miss u get tf up 😮‍💨

ynwolff lmao visit me at my new place <3

yourbffsig omw 🏃🏻‍♀️

ynwolff come fast before i go back to work this week !?

yourmomsig my beautiful daughter ❤️ all you do is sleep, sweetie 😂

ynwolff been sleeping a lot lately to avoid reality and recent news, ma 🤭 miss you <3

susie_wolff glad you’ve adjusted to the new place, that bed looks comfortable! enjoy 😍

ynwolff thank you for helping me move in, susie 😙 (and jackie too, pls tell him to sleepover sometimes!)

user14 not y/n posting minutes after mason confirmed his relationship 😭

user15 she’s unbothered lmao

user16 stop associating him with her, they’re over ffs

user17 user16 no, yall should stop associating him with her <3

user18 some girls are mourning over y/n and mason’s breakup and here she is sleeping most of the time 😂 welcome back to ig luv 💞

user19 ofc u announce ur return to ig by posting pics of u sleeping 😭 missed u here queen :)

ynwolff it’s all i’ve been doing the past few months <3 jk hahaha

user20 will we be seeing you back in the paddock? 😭

ynwolff hmm maybe 😉

#mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #football instagram au #football x reader #football imagine #mason mount angst #football angst

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oh-saints · 1 year ago

Text

short

you had to go away for work immediately after the final match of the season was concluded. but now that you’re back, ben cannot wait to celebrate his win with his (rather) short girlfriend.

benjamin pavard x you

tw: soft sex with a bit of foot fetish

wc: 1.6k

prompts: “height gap” + “celebratory sex” + benji’s post-workout shirtless ig story

note: another one for the smut week! a rather short one this time but this is based on three asks here. pls also bear in mind this is 18+ content therefore minors DNI! and as usual, I happen to write at dawn so it’s not beta-read yet.

“you really should stop doing that.”

ben was rolling his quads on the foam roller under the bright sun in his backyard, warming down after a rigorous season they were having—thanks to dortmund’s admirable fight throughout the season. now that the season was done and over with, ben could opt in some slow days of training, just enough to keep him in shape.

the footballer looked up, catching the glimpse of his girlfriend standing by the door, still clad in her blazer, arms folded neatly. ben smiled at the sight—partly because he was glad you were back, partly because of the scowl in your face. you’d never appreciated when he worked out in the backyard, exposing his shirtless self to the rest of the world when it was meant to be only for her eyes’ consumption only.

“it’s bad for our health you know, you working out like you wanna fuck the yoga mat,” you clicked your tongue disapprovingly. “especially to our vagina.”

ben had to laugh at your comment. you always had the knack to be unfiltered, and strangely it was what drew him into you. in this blitz industry, a no-nonsense presence is always going to be appreciated.

“remind me again what does it do to you woman?”

“why don’t you come in and find out?”

and there was the persona ben loved the most about you. always so daring, always so challenging. it always kept him on his toes, on the ground, reminding him that there was always someone with a higher drive to survive the jungle.

the fact that you were wearing his favourite pair of stilettoes didn’t help either. in fact, that determination and those heels combined was actually a sight that was dangerous to ben’s health, body and soul. the backs of your heels arched in the ways only your body could replicate, damn what a sight to behold.

ben stopped his workout sequence altogether, feeling his cock hardening both at the sexy sight and the friction the foam roller was providing. he knew he needed his fix—real fix, not just this crappy piece of rubber shit—something you hadn’t been giving him post-winning the league because you had to go to london, promising a private celebration was in due as soon as she landed back home.

the player walked closer to you, and your smirk grew along the hardness of his cock, palpable enough through his shorts. and ben recognised immediately, that you’d been intending to entice this reaction out of him because you remembered your promise before you flew away for work.

ben inwardly smiled, realising you were in the same page as him. but his smile broke out of his face as soon as he got closer to you, towering you still even though you were sporting a skyscraper heels. he could never help himself whenever he noticed the height gap between you two, too cute to be missed out.

but as you thought he was going to kiss you like you were in need of oxygen to live, he paused a millimetre before your lips while his hand cupped your jaw, angling your face towards him. just the way he liked it—him showing you who was in power, you surrendering your power unyieldingly to him.

“don’t hold back,” he whispered sultrily against your gaping lips, taking in every air gasped by your mouth. “got me?”

before you could give a response to that, ben closed down the distance between your lips. his lips landed perfectly on yours with such a force you had to steady yourself before returning the fervour, clasping his upper lips between yours while he bit down gently your lower lips in between his.

by the harsh and rash manhandling he was doing you—in the way he kissed you senselessly, in the way he lifted you up and hooked your legs across his back, in the way he brought you both to the nearest soft surface he could find—it was your turn to recognise ben was the one who couldn’t hold himself back any longer. he’d usually wait for your compliant reply to his demanding question, vocalising your surrender to him. he’d usually start off easy, too, because he just loves slow-burn foreplay.

as soon as you felt the soft cashmere of the sofa on your back, your boyfriend’s lips were busy finding his usual comfort zone. or in other words, your weak spot. knowing the goal behind him peppering kisses down the line of your neck, alternating between soft licks along the trail, you moaned in absolute pleasure.

“there she is,” you could feel him smirking against the skin behind your ears, so close to your weakness that it ran some shivers down your back. “louder, ma chérie.”

your obscene sounds was what fuelled him to do more—more rush, more pleasure, more love. no matter how much your height hap was actually a silent hindrance between you two. he had to crouch and bend just to adjust with your ends, just to kiss you, just to fuck you, just to please you.

but the lovely sight of you spared underneath him, with eyes and face so trusting of him to do whatever he needed to do to bring you both to the edge, was enough of his reason to keep going.

so he did. he peeled your articles of clothing one by one, so painfully slow for your standard, but the kisses he left all over the body as soon as he pulled down the fabric was enough of a payback. except for the heels.

the only reason why you could hold your head high and why his head didn’t have to stoop so low whenever he wanted to say and show how much he loves you.

and his achilles’ heel.

he lifted your right leg, flinging them over his shoulder like you were worth less than a paper. you trembled slightly at the move because it exposed your clit to the air wider, and you’d hate it if he could smell you were wet for him already.

but it seemed like too late for that. benji was already smiling as he puckered his lips, pecking your calf upwards to your ankle, sniffing and licking your legs teasingly because you were somehow shorter this way in his hands. and he loved it more because he could engulf you in his arms and everyone would think he’d made you disappear.

you thought he was taking off your heels this way, but as he lifted your other legs over his shoulder, you suddenly couldn’t guess him anymore.

“I want you on top today,” your boyfriend announced, his lips tickling the small spot between your ankle and the back of your heel. “can you do that?”

“what can’t I do for the winner?”

ben didn’t waste anymore time before he flipped you around, settling yourself on his lap. you didn’t waste anymore time too before you pulled his zipper down and freed his hard cock, pulsating already in your hands with ardent desire and carnal need.

something you were familiar with because you were feeling the same way. you wanted to play some tug of war game with him but your clit was throbbing already, ben’s earlier demonstration of throwing your legs over his shoulder did wonders to your most sensitive organ.

you lifted yourself a bit, just enough space for you to rub his cock with your wetness, preparing the both of you to the pleasure that was to come. you maneuvered the shaft up and down the line of your opening before sinking in, taking all of your boyfriend into you, and you both groaned at the rare sensation of a complete lust consumption. you were more of a doggy style kind of couple because it alleviated your height gap problem at hand, and for ben, it was a bonus sight to see his cock disappear whenever he pulled your hips towards him.

“fucking hell,” you had to seek for ben’s hands to help you sit up still, the feeling of him inside of you this way was an out-of-this-world experience. “we should’ve done this earlier.”

ben tried to give you some support by lifting his hips first, letting you ride him until you found your own rhythm and energy to match his. and when you did, god did he want to say he agreed to your statement. he really should’ve done this from the beginning of your relationship.

your hands were now placed on top of his pectoral while your hips met his as you brought them down, the frictions against your skin was another reason why you were a wreck, breathlessly whimpering when you felt his cock slipping out of you and moaning when you felt his cock entering you again in each thrust.

but you were gone when ben pulled off his idea of flicking your puckering bud while you rode him. so gone he had to catch you in his arms, gathered the pieces he shattered, as he kissed the crown of your head while riding you out till the last drop of him spilled.

“now this truly feels like winning.”

#oh-saints writes #oh-saints writes requests #benjamin pavard #ben pavard #benjamin pavard smut #benjamin pavard x you #benjamin pavard imagines #benjamin pavard one shot #benjamin pavard blurbs #benjamin pavard drabbles #benjamin pavard fics #footballer fics #footballer fanfiction #footballer x you

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popcorndispenser · 7 months ago

Text

Skeleton of my masked!brothers AU that I've mapped out so far:

Everything stays the same up until the backstory of Lost Future - Layton is assaulted at 27 years old by goons as he's trying to investigate Claire's death, and winds up severely injured and briefly comatose in hospital.

Desmond hears about this from out of London and immediately travels to see him, booking a hotel near the hospital until Layton wakes up and he feels relaxed enough to return. What he doesn't know is that Layton is actually semi-conscious, and that the professor even in his comatose haze manages to register Desmond's voice and the blurry sight of him before he flees. Layton is haunted by nightmares for the entirety of his month-long stay there, both of what happened to Claire and this blurry figure that he can't quite put a name to but feels so familiar. It becomes so unbearable he greatly elongates his time spent off work to seek the man out, wanting to at least conclude one mystery.

Desmond is horrified to see his brother at the door, doubly so when his wife insists he reveal his connection to him. Due to Layton's desperation however, he does, and Layton is both incredibly overwhelmed and happy. Having another connection of family in such a hellish time gives him another lifeline to hold onto, and so he asks to keep in contact, to which Desmond hesitantly agrees.

Some time later when Layton is forced to give up on the Claire case due to intimidation, Desmond hesitantly informs him that agents of a paramilitary terrorist organization have begun threatening him, and that it would be best for Layton to cut contact for a while. Layton in fact does the opposite of this and rushes over as soon as he can... to find that Desmond's wife and young daughter have been murdered by said organization, and Desmond himself has subsequently become a depressive suicidal wreck that flits between fits of destructive rage and absolute overwhelming despair. Layton, feeling helpless and also overcome by grief by how awful the situation is, himself begins to dissociate and endeavours to take care of Desmond for as long as he can until his brother is well enough to take care of himself.

While he's out on a shopping trip for his brother, he runs into a member of that same organization - a Targent operative in uniform. He doesn't know if the man was the one who killed his niece and sister-in-law, or if the man even knows about what has happened to them, but for some reason he doesn't care. Layton feels more enraged and detached than he ever has in his entire life, nothing truly feels real, and just as he grasped at a family after losing the most important person in his life, it was wrenched away again.

When he comes to, the man is dead. Layton had killed him, not even really meaning to do so, but he remains dead nontheless. It's an irreversible action, one he would have never though himself capable of. He feels absolutely wretched, but worse than that, he can't find it in himself to feel guilt for the man's death, only that he has himself sunk to that level. He has a choice now - to turn himself in, or to not. He can't imagine leaving Desmond with nothing left in this world, so he doesn't.

At home, Desmond has collected enough of his rage to redirect it into a drive to get revenge, with the backing and unconditional love and support of his butler. He cautions Layton to leave and pretend to have never known him as to not be wrapped up in the dangerous life he is about to enter, but Layton, already feeling as though his capability to live a normal life ended the moment he took one, insists on staying with him, citing that he is himself already hated by a polticial power and thus already at risk. More to the point, he won't let his brother do something so dangerous alone.

Desmond agrees, reluctantly, with the condition that Layton also disguises himself while with him for his own safety. Layton obliges.

And then I suppose I'd have to figure out Spectre's Call, and so-forth! Please feel free to give ideas, I feel like I tend to only go as deep as base-level aesthetics and ideas and I fail at really digging into the meat of an AU.

Is it too edgy that Layton would go that far? I thought so a little, but everyone I know with siblings said that in his position, they'd do the same. Hm...

#jean descole #desmond sycamore #hershel layton #cw a lot of mortality #professor layton #bronev bros #bronev brothers #masked!layton au

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qprpbj · 5 days ago

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Runaway auuuu but the questions don't matter to the actual storyline or WHATEVER

what are some things they'd go do as a big group?? what are some places they'd go to to hang out?? these are the smallest, most unnecessary questions ever but I NEEEED to know!!!:$;&;$

any more details to what the place they're all in would look like? cause how HUUUUGEEE is this thing

I have an idea in my head but idk

and then, random, what are some ways pb&j would express themselves physically? or would they just stay the same?

you might've already said this to my first thing I posted here but I can't fucking read so, what jobs would pony and johnny get exactly?? I'm thinking like some coffee shop or something

ANY NAMES FOR THE DRAG QUEEN AND OTHER PEOPLE IN THE GROUP?!(74)3

okay I’ll probably be back here soon

ok i’m not gonna go on a whole queer history tangent bc i’m not thatttt educated but. yes i Have been fixating on this and queer communal living was very popular in the 60s-80s! this specifically mentions london but it’d have def been around in new york too

the vibe - i haven’t seen the show btw - i’m sorta going for is like the space that good trouble takes place in where it’s like. literally a whole group of ppl who maintain their apartment or whatever all together and find family in each other. idk exactly who, maybe like 6-7 ish other ppl?? (im so shit at making ocs im sorry maybe ill try tho if ur still curious LOL) or how big the space is (but it IS like. relatively hidden away underground. bc. obviously kinda has to be given the time period).

anyway idk if they hang out much a ton all together tbh?? everyone besides pbj would be like. obviously older. maybe oneeee other younger adult. but they’ve all gotta work super hard to maintain their positions etc and. let’s be so fr probably all have to get up to some degree of illegal shit to survive. so idrk but!! probably at the beginning someone helps to show them around and like. helps them with clothes and cooking and teaching them not just how to survive but live actual real fulfilling lives on their own

trans ponyboy is in my head in this canon idk i think he starts t and has johnny cut/bleach his hair on the journey To new york and steals a ton of soda darry’s clothes so i think he’s def more drastic about it. grows up n fills in his body and loves his goofy little stubble and lovessss bleaching his short hair and loves wearing his big brothers clothes he took. johnny idrk LOL i think he mostly stays the same

i want pony to work at like some library or thrifty situation or…..something. idrk honestly bc he IS trans in the late 60s/early 70s. visibly queer and he doesn’t want to hide it, he’s hidden his whole life and he ran away so he could be more visible so he has to be diligent and careful about where he goes and what he does yk. idrk yet maybe he just does odd stuff here and there. johnny could realistically probably work somewhere more outward and visible but idk where bc he can’t read very well and didn’t graduate LOL

i don’t have names yettttt i need to decide who they even live with. at least one older drag queen and some like mid 20s trans dude pony adores and helps him with his transition. besides that idkkk pls come back to me on that LOL

#the outsiders #asks #runaway au #qprpbj #ponyboy curtis #johnny cade #i love this so bad #thank u anon for indulging me LOL #trans ponyboy <33333333

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donnieisonfire · 7 days ago

Text

Dan from Law,

Phil from Media & Editing

HEY YALL!! if u've never seen this b4 then this is chap 1 and THIS is chapter 2! chap 2 has SMURT so if ur a minor, pls go :( sorry lol maybe ill eventually make a smut-free fic...maybe. Basically, its an office romance/smut fic. But make it Dan and Phil.

AO3 LINK!

This and all the other parts of this fic will probably be explicit, and this one is PURE smut, so...yah. You've been warned! Tags & actual fic below cut lol

TAGS :

Post nut clarity, fingering, dan being a SLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAG, mentions of Phil liking danny boyo back :0

Daniel’s head was loud that night.

He’d been trying to shut it out, trying everything, trying everything to avoid the guilt that would surely come after if he caved in, gave in. He’d played some ‘Power Washing Simulator’ and once that didn’t distract him, he knew he was fucked.

Last resort: Cold shower. It would be his first idea, normally, to calm himself down, but that only works if you’re stressed, not trying to *avoid* touching your dick like some horned up teen. I mean, the temptation is right there. But, it was either this or lay down, and he knew how laying down would end.

Dan stepped into his bathroom, grabbing at the hem of his black t-shirt. He pulls it over his shoulder blades and pops his head through. He puts his thumb under the band of his pyjama pants and pushed them off. He turns the knob (haha) on the shower, the water splashes down, hitting his arm a bit. He hisses slightly at the cold. He adjusts the temperature so the water is just about under room temperature before he takes off his socks and unpeels his boxers from his overly sweaty thighs. His hand being so close to his half-chubbed up dick is tempting, but he doesn’t.

‘One really fucking good wank isn’t worth that guilt, Dan, don’t.’ His mind blared.

The cold water attacked his back, London’s water quality around the parts he lives in is pretty shit, it was like hail more than water that was supposed to be calming him currently. It’s not working. Of course it’s not working, because why would his cold ass shower actually do it job?

He takes a shaky breath as his arm moves, his wrist twisting at the joint to turn up, his middle and pointer finger trailing, following, up the vein on the underside of his shaft. “Fuck…” He whispers. He was gonna regret this. With his other hand, he turns up the temperature of the water. He was giving up, giving in. He’d tried everything he could but it seemed every fibre of his being wanted him here, touching himself, his perverse mind full of some unfortunate guy that probably just saw his sorry ass and bought him a coffee for shits and giggles.

Once the warm water shines through the cold, he wraps his left hand around his dick and slowly drags his right hand’s middle finger down from his shaft to his ass.

He sighs as his fingertip feather-touches the rim of his hole, all of his thoughts, including his guilt, would soon fade away and he’d be left, panting as he fingered himself with his mind empty of everything and everyone except Phil.

Hey, at least the warm water was helping relax his muscles.

He exhales as he slowly inserts his middle finger inside of his tight ring of muscle, getting to the second knuckle before stopping himself and giving himself a breather. His fingers were quite lanky, much like the rest of him, so they gave him an easy orgasm most days, made it easy to reach his own bundle of nerves without using too much time or lube - helpful, considering how expensive both were to him nowadays. His breath is shaky, his body is slumped against the shower’s wall tile as to hold himself up as his legs weren’t confident enough to do it solely by themselves. Dan’s mind was full of Phil, the blonde semi-curls, even the grow-out of his brown hair turning to blonde was sexy to Dan.

The way Phil looked directly at him…Phil must’ve known what he was doing, impossible not to. It’s obvious. Or maybe it isn’t, and it is simply Dan’s minds way of wishful thinking. However, tonight, just tonight, he’ll indulge in the thought that Phil wants him even near as much as he wants him. Dan pushes his finger in deeper, curling it, fishing for that stupid spot that makes his eyes lull to the back of his head. Once he found it, he knew. He lets out a small groan, followed by whisper-calling out Phil’s name, albeit very shakily.

“mhmm..” He begins to move his finger, pushing it in and out of himself - stopping just before his finger leaves himself, just to push it back in him as quickly as possible, missing that ‘full’ feeling. He pushes his finger inside the tight ring of muscle and begins to move his finger to the side, starting to try to stretch himself so he would be able to accommodate a second finger. After a few minutes of this, while lazily stroking his cock, he managed to get himself to the point of where putting another finger in him wouldn’t hurt. He slowly slips the second finger in, to the second knuckle, starting the exact same process as what he done with the first finger.

“fuck..” He whispers, as if anyone but *his* lonely ass would be able to hear him.

He curls his two fingers before pushing them in further. His breath hitches as he finds his prostate, his two fingers now bottomed out in him. His arm was beginning to ache, he had to hurry. He hated hurrying. The impending doom of the warm water running out was rushing him as well. Dan focuses on curling his fingers in time with left hand stroking his length with his right.

He makes sure to rub his soft palm over his frenulum. “God-“ he groans in response, he pushes his head back against the tile wall.

By now, his mind was dedicated to just Phil now, his brain was a college of different mental screenshots of the way Phil’s blue eyes stared into his own while he sucked his two fingers, licking the whipped cream off of the digits. Dan’s hips thrust up involuntarily, he was close.

The way Phil carelessly paid for his coffee, the way Phil had basically bribed him to spend his break with him, it all concluded that Dan’s little crush maybe was reciprocated, and that maybe he had a chance. He could see whatever Phil was packing. Now, his imaginations were full of all the different guys he’d fucked. All the tall ones, around the same height as Phil (and himself), were pretty hung. Phil could be hung.

Dan bit down on his lip, his hips pushing up for one last time as his fingers pushed exponentially hard on his prostate, and come pushes it way out of the tip of his dick, coating his hand and the floor of the shower, although it was quickly washed away by the oddly-aggressive water. He sighs heavily, waiting a few moments before removing his fingers from himself. During those seconds, he takes his hand off his dick and washes away the come. “Fuck me.” He mutters to himself as he takes out the fingers.

He puts his right hand under the stream of water, that was now nearly room-temperature. He takes a few moments before he turns off the shower. This month’s water bill is gonna hurt if he doesn’t get over Phil, and soon.

He grabs a half-damp towel from his radiator, of which had broken 4 months ago, and scruffs his hair with it, getting most of the excess water off before he ties it around his waist. He walks over to his bathroom sink, staring at himself in the mirror above it.

And there was the guilt. It hit him, and it hit pretty hard. He sighs, this wasn’t his first fight with post-nut clarity and, if Phil continued to plague his mind, it wouldn’t be his last.

He washed his hands, using his new soap he had treated himself to. It was supposed to smell like lavender. It infact did not, then again, it wasn’t ever going to for £1.99. He splashes his face with water, like his water bill wasn’t fucking high enough. Sad bastard. He dries off his face, turns off the tap and turns off the bathroom light as he walks out, trudging himself to his bedroom to go lay, damp, in his bed and sleep - like he had wanted to all damn day.

#top phil lester #blonde phil #dan howell x phil lester #phillip lester #phil lester #dan and phil #daniel howell is a coffee hoe #daniel howell #dan howell #dnp #pinof #15 years of dan and phil #dip and pip #danisnotonfire #amazingphil

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anitalianfrie · 9 months ago

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rockstar au 👀👀👀👀👀

rockstar au... i accidentally built it while writing "this is a love story"....

Dani and Jorge and Vale all together in a world-wide famous rock band that have to get a replacement for Casey after he fucks off to retirement because he's tired of vale's bullshits... and they have to do it super soon because they've got a new album that's just coming out and have scheduled a world tour. and ideally it should be a long term thing because going through too many guitarist would be detrimental to the image of the band as a 'united' group

And Marc who is a super fan but also a classically trained guitarist slash musical genius that through various endeavors gets Vale to listen to his stuff and vale goes omg... i need to meet this super talented almost unknow twenty years old... so he fucks off to spain and auditions marc without telling jorge and dani and like. listens to marc for three seconds and tell him he's hired without even consulting the others and brings him back to london where they should rehearse.

etc etc many things happen during the tour vale and marc fuck like crazy instead of writing songs and dani and jorge don't even realize because they are fucking like crazy when they are not hitting each other with the respective musical instruments.

they write an album, make another world tour, everybody is still fucking, pedrenzo are having faux hate sex and licking tequila from each other's sweaty bodies in the club, rosquez are snorting cocaine from each other's abs, you know normal rockstar thing. marc is beloved by the fanbase, they rise in popularity, marc and vale sometimes get this close to fucking on stage.

but then they have to write another album. jorge and vale keep arguing about everything, uccio who's vale's personal manager does evil uccio things, marc proposes to write more on his own and vale takes it as a personal insult and proof marc is trying to throw him out of his own band, everybody has a terrible time. Vale goes crazy and like, hints at marc's percived evil plan during a concert, and literally like the day after talks to the press and publicly divorces marc. Marc replies by releasing an auto-produced song (like. literally a demo) where he clearly slanders him, and hard. But they still contractually have to get an album out, so while everybody keeps having a terrible time they finish it through gritted teeth and then split as a band.

pedrenzo get out of the band basically married and rosquez get out of the band as divorced as john lennon and paul mccartney when they ended the beatles. To complete the image, picture dani signing the band divorce papers in the same way george harrison did.

ps: if you wander what kind of shenanigans rosquez did on stage when they where in a situationship, picture the last shadow puppets. if you don't know who they are, ouch, i'm hurt, but here are some examples of... whatever they do/did (the homoerotic solo hug (ignore the weird ass camera angle pls)) (coachella) (every single rendition of standing next to me they ever did) (compilation of some of their gayes weirdest moments (key word: some))

#i'm so insane about this........ sorry #rockstar au #btw id love to talk more about this... pedrenzo i feel could be an untapped golden mine #motogp #rosquez #pedrenzo #adora's tag

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ineffabildaddy · 10 months ago

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6, 8, and 21 for the soft asks <3

omg hiii hehehe

6. say three nice things about yourself (three physical and three non-physical)

oh god okay, physical: my tattoos are sick, my beard's coming along nicely, and ermmm i'm stacked in the back lmfao

non-physical: i try to be a friendly person, i'm very organised and clean at work which i'm proud of, anddd i'd like to think i know a good amount about music

8. tag someone (or multiple people) who make you feel good

this bit's gna be long so i'll put it under the cut dlfjlkdg

@raining-stars-somewhere-else he's an inactive king atm but he's my bestie and i love him<3 so so hilarious and observant and talented and kind. he's my dude and he means a lot to me go away

@sad-chaos-goblin i feel like i can be totally insane around you and you'll get on my wavelength immediately, it's amazing dlkkkljgfjkld. also i feel really lucky to be friends with someone so well-rounded and driven and fun, not to mention compassionate<3 i'm really really lucky to have met you and i hope we get to do irl adventures in the nearish future!!! until then we're great friends from afar!!!

@omens-for-ophelia we're just perfectly matched for our headcanons and kinks and shit and i absolutely love it. u get me, i get u, we get each other on this front and on many others!!! ur an extremely nurturing person too. i also love having u around bc ur full of fun facts and passion and energy, and of course ur art is absolutely incredible, i'm scratching at the walls just thinking about it dklkjldfgjkl. can't wait to create more absolutely feral works of crowley and aziraphale [redacted] in various ways hahahhkshjdf. and also hopefully have some london hangouts soon<3

@queer-reader-07 of course i've gotta mention ya because you're one of my fave blogs! i feel so warm and welcome reading all your posts and tags because you're a very lovely individual, and you've also got so many valuable things to say and i really look forward to seeing your takes on everything<3 also as i said before ur a very funny person and i enjoy that heh. i always get so excited when u pop up in my notifs i'm like little old me????

@foolishlovers bestie your writing makes me so happy but chatting and things makes me even happier<3 you're a really enthusiastic friend to have and you've got so many wonderful qualities that i just wanna share the love as much as possible hehe. i'm very glad we're doing shhh it's a secret together and that we've become close in general uwu

@crowleyslvt ur a little lad who's always got something hilarious and insightful to say about literally anything i come to u with, whether it's fkn silly memes or an existential crisis lol. you have such a unique way of looking at the world and i really enjoy it. also having a giggle with u is always top tier and on top of that ur a very supportive king<3 and of course u writing's delish at all times in any context

@voluptatiscausa i can literally tell you my most redacted thoughts and you'll be like yeah this is just another day at the office dkffjddgl. you're a silly and goofy guy (gn) who's simultaneously very easy to open up to which is always a comfort<3 the fact that we both like mitchell and webb makes us collectively Not Like Other Girls and we need to capitalise on that more tbh. also i greatly enjoy ur writing ofc

@bowtiepastabitch you're jokes. also we're very different and yet somehow the same brand of fucked up which i love<3 the lore could not be more disparate but the vibes could not be more immaculate. pls continue to be my friend smh

some more legends i love @crowleyholmes @fearandhatred @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @celestialcrowley @sabotage-on-mercury @quoththemaiden @ineffable-rohese @crawley-fell

21. if you could tell your past self one thing, what would it be?

probably this - one day you're going to start sticking up for yourself, i promise<3

#not good omens #asks #ineffabildaddy

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mailontumb · 10 months ago

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Hello! I have been requested a fanfic about Mizu from Blu Eyed Samurai!

The person who asked the fanfic wants to stay anymous

Any who heree is the fanfic!

Note blue: mizu !! orange:ringo !! Purple:Mr Yogan !! Pink: butler

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Mizu’s Father?

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Mizu was wandering around at the market in the London. She was pretty hungry as she just got to the country known for the British monarchy. After wondering around she found a place to exchange her yen’s to pounds and decided to get a ride to go to a place to eat. She decided to eat at a small cafe, as she went in she ordered some fresh bread and tea. After the food arrived she burnt herself a lil trying to take a small sip of the tea. As she finally ate the last piece of her bread sand decided to continue her hunt to find the 4 white men that went to japan

Mizu decided to go find them but ultimately got lost for 3 hours in the woods…but during the 3 hours she heard a rustling noises coming from one of the bushes. She drew her blade out getting ready to attack but it was just but it was just ringo. “ ringo…why the hell are you here?…didnt i told you to stay in the hut and dont follow me?” “Uhh…sorry I just wanna follow you….” ringo replied awkwardly “whatever just stay away from me.” After that encounter with ringo she finally found her way out and ask around if they have seen the 4 men that went to japan and stayed there illegally.

After no success a man came from out of nowhere and gave Mizu a letter saying she looked exactly like the man in the picture. Mizu at first didn’t believe it before looking the picture and was shocked to find out she does and asked the man where he found it and who the person in the picture was , the man gave her a little envelope with an address written on it. As the man left Mizu gazed on the address wondering if she has found her dad.She decided to go and find a ride to take to the address which later on she found out was a mansion.

After finding a ride and going to the mansion , she gazed at it for a while and finally going to the front door and l knocking on it. A butler appears and asked “hello and good morning, please state your business & reason why you were to see Mr Yogan.” “Uhh…im here to see him to…interview him?”“Hm…I guess you’re the reporter, alright then come in…” the butler assisted Mizu to a living room and serve her a cup of tea which did not burn Mizu this time. She ask the butler if the Mr Yogan is gonna come home anytime soon. “Soon my dear pls be patient” the butler said firmly.

20 minute of waiting later a man who is appear to be in his mid 60’s looking worried walked in the room the butler who was sitting across Mizu this entire time introduce him as the Mr Yogan wich Mizu had so long waited for… the man who politely said hi to Mizu then said “so are we ready to begin to interview?” “Uh..yes Uhm sorry…let’s start?…” Mizu replied nervously”alright hit me with the question!” “Do you recognise this person in the picture?” Taken it aback the man inspect the picture and said…”oh…sorry what is your name?” “Mizu,why?” ��Mizu,if your are trying to find this man im sorry but he was my late brother who was a terrible criminal and was executed not long after serving a couple of years in the famous prison of London, The Anastasia Prison… but you can find his grave at the High Gate cemetery it’s just around the block” Mizu who was surprise to found out that one of the 4 men she was searching for had passed away. She later then asked “im sorry but did he ever had a secret child back a japan?” “Oh yes he did! He told me before he was executed,why?” “Heh…nothing but Uhm that is all of the question! I got to go now! Hehe bye?” “Oh Uhm that was fast but alright? Bye.” Mizu quickly left and decided to head to the cemetery.

After entering she quickly searched for anyone who had the last name Yogan as she knows that Mr Yogan was the brother of one of the 4 men she was searching for. Suddenly she saw a grave with the last name being Yopgan and the grave wich appear to have a withered rose right next to and a stone wirtten on it ‘James Yogan, Born at 1578 and Died at 1613, was a beloved brother & a horrible criminal.’ “Yeesh…i didn’t expect to meet you here dad…i hope you ended up in hell after making my whole life themed after it. Goodbye and im glad you died”. She quickly left the cemetery and told ringo to stop hiding in the bushes. Ringo appeared and asked her how did she noticed him “ringo you are way too easy to predict. Now come one let’s go back home”.

___________

The end.

I hope you guys enjoyed this fanfic! I had fun writing it and i hope to post more fanfic of your request! And Here i am out tap out have a great day byeee!

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizuki akiyama #mizu fanfic #writing fanfic #fanfic

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7-takes · 9 months ago

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stratford! - 16/272

yo what's poppin, back for another tube station eheheh this time we're going east, the furthest east in london i've gone so far actually stratford was actually way cooler than i was expecting, both the station and the area i wanted to come here to see the art (check the website here), part of a 3 piece series (the others being at notting hill gate and bethnal green)

the station itself is huge, with over 16 platforms (i can't remember exactly how many) since it has so many connections

also WESTFIELD (time to be a slave to capitalism amirite) i like this one more than the one at shepherd's bush, this one is smaller but i think it has cooler vibes, it also has street food so you can't go wrong

the surrounding area also had loads of (tall) flat buildings which led to some very nice photo ops, as well as queen's park (the west ham stadium, which strangely isnt very close to west ham) which google maps shows as deceptively green (it's mostly pavement) but i still really liked it

things opening soon (ish): -v&a museum (opening 2025) -city bouldering (tbc) imma have to come back to visit these, along with just walking around, the area is so nice omg might actually be my new fav area of london ngl (sorry battersea) (idk if its better than canary wharf tho, imma have to come back)

ive run out of things to say, check my photos pls (here and here) see ya next time!

#london #london underground #tfl #train #tube #social justice

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ad1thi · 1 year ago

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@ifmywishescametrue felt like it was finally time from some good old-fashioned angst. stevetony rwrb AU ft. the night at Kensington Palace. @bieddiediaz pls enjoy your fav rwrb scene re-done.

please note : characters’ opinions about the English Monarchy do not reflect author’s own opinions. Fuck the Monarchy.

The rain is thunderous. Steve’s been in London when it’s rained before, but it’s never been this bad. Their visibility is shot to hell, and they’re inching towards Kensington Palace, because Clint is worried that if they go any faster, then they’re at a serious risk of losing control of the car and veering off the side of the road.

Steve knows this. He knows this because Clint’s told him as much, all three times that Steve has asked why they aren’t moving faster. None of this stops the anxious bounce of his leg, nor does it stop him physically hurtling out of his car as soon as they’re close enough to Kensington Palace that he can make out the shaky outline of the mansion in his periphery.

“Anthony Edward Stark!” He bellows, even though there’s a piss poor chance he can be heard over this rain, “Open your fucking door!” Its superfluous of course, because even if they weren’t fighting it wouldn’t be Tony who lets him in, but it has its desired effect : the door cracks open, and Bruce steps out.

“Mr. Rogers,” He inclines his head, and then looks past Steve, “Mr. Barton. His Royal Highness is indisposed at this time.” It’s the middle of the night. Steve knows, as surely as he knows the back of his hand, that Tony is just upstairs, sat on his bed.

“Undispose him then,” Steve says firmly, arrogantly, “I’m not leaving until I’ve seen him.”

Bruce’s face remains blank. “I’m sorry you’ve made it all this way for a wasted trip. His Royal Highness cannot see you now. If you insist on being a nuisance, rest assured there are other ways to get you to vacate the premises.”

Almost instinctively, Clint steps in front of Steve just as Steve stiffens. They both recognise Bruce’s words for what they are : a threat.

Still, Steve will not be deterred. “Oh for fuck’s -“ He cups his mouth and tilts his head back, “Tony ! I know you know I’m here ! The least you owe me is to look me in the eye, you absolute piece of shit!”

“His Royal Highness owes you nothing,” Bruce says harshly, “You’re lucky that you were able to get this close to the residence - “

The door opens again, and Tony steps out. He’s in silk pajamas, draped in a fluffy robe. He grabs it and wraps it around himself tightly, sighing deeply. Tony looks haggard, Steve thinks to himself, blinking through wet lashes, puffy eyes, sunken cheeks, and hair sticking up in various directions.

He’s never looked more beautiful.

“Let them in Bruce,” Tony says, placing a hand on his equerry’s shoulder, “Get Clint a towel and a change of clothes. Best to put a pot on as well, tea will kill the chill.”

Bruce inclines his head, and Tony turns around and walks back into the residence. The entire time, Steve notes silently, he hadn’t looked at Steve once. Bruce follows after, holding open the door for Clint and Steve to step in. They’re both soaked to the bone, dripping all over the expensive floors of Kensington Palace, but Steve couldn’t care less. He pauses just long enough to shrug off his jacket, safe in the knowledge that Clint will be taken care of, and moves two steps at a time - unwilling to lose Tony.

He knows the way to Tony’s bedroom, having been there the night after Wimbledon, but he wouldn’t put it past Tony to spirit away to another part of the Palace and leave Steve walking around the halls aimlessly.

“You can say what you’ve come to say,” Tony says once they enter his room, “And then you will leave.” It isn’t a request, it’s an order.

“Look at me,” Steve means for it to be firm, but it comes out soft, desperate. “Look me in the eye, Tony, you owe me that much.” With what looks like supreme effort, Tony raises his gaze off the floor, and meets Steve’s eyes.

“What happened?” Steve asks, begs, “We were good, we were happy. And then you just leave ? Scurry out of the apartment in the dead of the night, leave me this -“ He fists the scrap of paper out of his pocket and shakes it at Tony, “And then, nothing. No messages, no calls, not even a whisper. Do you know I checked the news obsessively for a week ? I thought, god I thought everything. Your father was poisoned, your sister relapsed, your plane was shot out of the sky by insurgents, you’d been kidnapped, anything because I didn’t want to believe that the man I am in love with would be this cruel.”

Tony makes a sound like he’s wounded, but Steve barrels on. “But eventually, I had to accept it. ‘When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’”

“Arthur Conan Doyle,” Tony interjects nonsensically.

“If you want to end this, end us,” Steve says, steeling himself, “You’re going to have to look me in the eye and do it.”

There’s a pregnant silence.

“My mother was one of the most celebrated actresses of her generation,” Tony starts, “She has one of the most recognisable faces on the planet. I have one of the most recognisable faces on the planet. I was four years old when I realised every single person in this country knew who I was. I was five when one of those people spat on my mother’s face and called her a currymuncher.”

“My mother gave everything up for this,” Tony gestures around him, “To be a symbol of something more. She believed that the monarchy could stand for better, to use centuries of blood money for something more. I have her face Steve, I can’t be like you. I’m not like you. I don’t have the luxury of giving them all of me, I don’t have the luxury of giving anybody all of me. I'm already too much. This is all I’ve got, and you made it abundantly clear in Brooklyn that it was no longer enough for you.”

After the election, Steve had said, mindlessly, thoughtlessly, We can walk around holding hands and it wouldn’t matter.

“I never said that,” Steve says fiercely, “Don’t put words in my mouth. I have never once said you aren’t enough. If you want to bury your head in the sand and stay in the closet forever, then that’s your choice, but don’t you dare say I’m the one who put you there.”

“I’m not in the closet,” Tony says tiredly, “I’ve known I was gay since I was eleven. My entire family knows, in some manner or fashion. Forgive me if I don’t want to hear it from someone who’s known they’re bi for all of five minutes, and didn’t say anything to anyone until he was literally caught with his hand on my dick.”

It’s a low blow, and from the way Tony’s face softens, he knows it. This is what Tony does, Steve reminds himself, he lashes out when he’s cornered. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“I have no more cards to play,” Steve says finally, changing tactics, “This is all I have. I love you Tony, I love you so much that sometimes it could kill me. You have consumed me, body and soul, you’re it for me. I have nothing left to give you.”

“So, if this is over, you owe it to me to tell me.”

“You think I don’t love you?” Tony runs his hands through his hair, “Christ Steve I’ve loved you since Rio ! You were bright and shiny, and I was utterly transfixed, and I just knew that if I let you that you would burrow yourself deep in me and never let go. But my life is the Crown, and I can love you, and want you, and still not want this. I can love you and still not want to subject you to that life, because this is all I have to give.”

“Do I get no say?” Steve asks hotly, because it hasn’t escaped his notice that none of those words were ‘It’s over’. “It’s my life too, right ? Our life.”

“The Crown - “

“Fuck the Crown,” Steve says passionately, fervently, “We can find a way to love each other on our own terms. You just have to be willing to try. Or : you tell me to leave, and I will leave, and nothing will happen to you. Nothing, will ever happen to you.”

"Ask me to leave." Steve says again, because he's a masochist, because Tony is the best thing that's ever happened to him, because Tony is the worst thing that's ever happened to me. "Ask me."

"You know I can't."

Steve steps forward, finally closing the gap between them to clasp his hands over Tony's. From this angle, Steve is taller than Tony, and Steve is close enough to count all of his eyelashes individually.

"Then let me stay." Steve begs, implores, "Let me prove to you that this, us, is worth it. Baby, let yourself have something for once. Let yourself have me."

Tony makes a sound in the back of his throat, and then wraps his hand around the back of Steve's neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

It's the worst thing that's ever happened to him. It's the best thing that's ever happened to him.

fin

#my writing #stevetony #steve rogers / tony stark #hrh tony stark #first son steve rogers #stevetony rwrb AU #desi tony stark #this snuck up on me but i just basically wanted to unpack why tony wouldn’t just abdicate #and i spiralled from there basically #i kept just thinking about meghan markle’s speech and how she gave up so much to marry harry #because she wanted to be a symbol of something more in the monarchy #and i kept thinking about how if you spend your whole time being told about your duty to the crown #a part of you might start believing it even if it means shackling yourself down #anyway yeah let me know what yall think

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