#pls don't hate this as much as i think y'all are going to

[seokmattchuus]

When Matthew tells you he's been a bit stressed with debut preparations, you help him get his mind off of things. With some handcuffs and a torturous, never-ending hand job.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.12 how you get the girl

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 12/x (probably 18)

ᰔ words. 11.3k

a/n. man the color scheme for this chapter is kinda giving BRAT lolol...i mean gojo IS brat. anywho, i don't have much to say at the beginning of this chapter but i do have a LOT to say at the end of it sooo see y'all at the bottom!! hope u enjoy. also BIG THANK YOU to @whereflowerswenttodie who beta read parts of this chapter for me n convinced me not to scrap it lol

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

11:03am you: hi! 11:03am you: good luck today 11:03am you: incase i don’t see you

11:05am Gojo Satoru: Why wouldn’t you? Aren’t you gonna be on the field for your newsletter shots?

11:07am you: i mean yes but idk where i’m gonna be stationed so 11:07am you: it might not be on UTokyo’s side of the field

11:08am Gojo Satoru: Okay then I’ll look for you before the game starts

11:10am you: no pls don’t. coach yaga thinks i distract you. i don’t want to get yelled at again. he scares me :(

11:12am Gojo Satoru: Haha you’re silly 11:13am Gojo Satoru: East side entrance at 2 11:13am Gojo Satoru: Be there

11:14am you: or be square?

11:15am Gojo Satoru: Yea whatever shape you wanna be in is fine cutie

It’s a bright sunny day outside, perfectly blue sky with a scattering of fluffy clouds seen outside the window of your shared room in your apartment, and you realize spring is fully here from the way birds chirp past the glass. You’re stuffing your camera case full of chilled Kodak film rolls, your last stash left, and it’s the last piece of equipment you pack before slinging the strap over your shoulder and heading out the door.

Mina had offered to give you a ride to the stadium since your car’s still at the shop, but you’re happy you opted for the bumpy bus ride and although you come close to low-grade concussions from the bang of your head to the window at every other speed bump, the music in your ears while someone else is operating a public transport vehicle helps you think creatively before shooting shots.

It was surprise enough that Mina of all people was going to this game, and when you questioned her about it in the morning, she looked at you like you were absurd to assume anyone from UTokyo wouldn’t be at this game, and sure enough, it’s all anyone on Instagram has been repping on their stories or talking about in the bustling minutes before lectures. Even Utahime was going to this game, and she hates all intercollegiate sports. You knew the game was a big deal, given the way Coach Yaga was yelled at via email by the Dean of UTokyo to make sure the team wins today because a multimillion dollar Nike sponsorship would be greenlit by the prospect (for some reason you were cc’d in an email chain among divisional higher-ups, but you weren’t opposed to snooping in on conversations that were entirely outside of your tax bracket).

It’s because it’s the second to last home game before the season ends, and apparently this has been statistically the best season the UTokyo D1 Men’s Soccer team has played since the new millenia. No pressure to the players on that fact, but failure wasn’t much of an option for them anymore. 

And you can feel the stakes the second you step inside the stadium. Packed would be an understatement, there were people flooding the aisles, overbooked for the sake of the university pocketing an extra buck no doubt, but spectators could care less since they were able to at least get in on the basis of that irresponsibility in the first place, despite the stadium’s capacity having long been reached before the pregame festivities even start. Banners and signs drape over railings with the school’s striking blue and golden colors, every single replay screen is lit up and brightly pixelated at every north, south, east, and west entrance for inclusive viewing. As you pass VIP security and make it into the lower field-level entry, the scattered chants from the crowd amplify in volume and you almost wince a little to yourself from the noise. The stadium felt like a living, breathing entity, pulsing with the collective heartbeat of everyone inside. 

You’ve never been more overstimulated in your life, except instead of finding it frightening, it was electrifying. And for once, you think you can understand what an athlete must feel when playing on their own home turf surrounded by those that are wholeheartedly rooting for them.

Hana is quick to spot you, panic clear across her face as she regards you with a couple pages with your assigned vantage points, a rushed briefing session, and then she’s darting down the sidelines to make sure equipment is set up appropriately where needed. She’s understaffed, given you told Utahime about Kai’s little intervention last week and she made a nasty point to the university (and possibly a handful of legal threats) and they relented in firing him. So now the three of you were down a photographer, and the extra work shows in the instructions she gave you as you skim the sheets. 

A glance at your phone tells you it’s close to 2pm, and your eyes take in the expanse of green on the field. UTokyo’s players practice kicking shots off to the right goal post, while YCU’s players practice shots off to the left. You can’t spot where Gojo is, but you faithfully head down to the East Side entrance like he asked you to. 

When you round the corner, you almost crash right into an Ichiko mascot, but swiftly dodge, and then you stop in your tracks when you see Gojo standing right at the concrete entrance. He’s leaning back against the adjacent wall, arms crossed at his chest, and he’s stretching his neck side to side with a creased brow, an intense look in his eyes, lost in serious thought, scanning the wall across from him like he’s mapping out plays in his head. 

When you approach him and catch the corner of his eyesight, he leans off the wall and flashes you one of his so extremely charmed to see you grins on reflex, and suddenly there’s nothing your senses seem to pick up on except him. Like everything else around you just disappears.

“Hey, you,” he says when he comes up to you, and you walk him like a dog back to a corner that’s tucked further away from noises and sights. You lean your back against the wall now, the coolness of concrete seeping through the fabric of your shirt, and he stands a step in front of you. Your hands toy with the strap of your camera.

“Are you ready to win today?” you ask him, and look off to the right into the flourishing seats that are still being filled to the brim, “clearly there’s no pressure.”

He breathes in deep, and releases it slowly, like there really was tension to relieve. “We’ve got no choice but to win.”

“Is that something Coach Yaga says to you guys often?” you ask him, because the man recited the same thing about five times in that email chain. “Also, apparently you take years off of his life.” Another thing he recited about five times in that email chain.

Gojo only addresses what he wants to address, as per usual. “Yeah, it’s something he says to us often.” 

“So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”

He looks at you puzzled, tilting his head to the side. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

It’s hard to assume that he didn’t have something to talk about with the intention of telling you to meet him here, because this is the same place you confessed to him a few weeks ago, and so is also the place he so painfully rejected you. But maybe he doesn’t think about these kinds of things as much as you do. “I see.”

His tongue pokes to his cheek as he studies your anticipating expression, and then he sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “What are we doing? I mean, I like you, and you like me too, at least I hope you still do. Why don’t we—…why don’t we just give it a go already? I don’t see how we can move forward if you won’t at least let me take you out on a date.”

Your hands stop fidgeting with your camera strap from his words, and you lick your lips, suddenly unable to keep eye contact with him so your gaze drifts down to his chest in front of you. His uniform is clean, no smudges of dirt or grass, just pure white fabric underneath heat-pressed blue and golden accents, and of course, that signature number 10. You’re sure he’s all you’ll ever think of when you see that number now for the rest of your life. 

You know when you want something so bad you don’t know what to do once you have it? Because it almost seems too good to be true? 

“I just wanted to let stuff between us breathe for a little bit,” you confess, “it’s just, it was a lot to deal with. Being around you when I thought you didn’t want me the way I wanted you. I don’t know if this is odd to say, and maybe I’m overthinking it, but I just feel like somewhere along the way, I kind of…forgot who you were for a little bit.” This kind of vulnerability would have you running away with your tail between your legs with anyone else, but not with him. Not after everything. 

His expression softens, melting away that confrontational energy he had earlier, and he nods slowly. He opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t seem to find words. The presence of them is there, though, you can feel them. But what good are his thoughts if not voiced? 

“I just wanted to spend a little bit of time getting to know you again, I guess.” You squeeze your arm in reassurance of yourself because he wasn’t giving it to you. You let out an awkward laugh. “I don’t really know what I’m saying right now, to be honest.”

You can tell he’s at a crossroads, and you think back to this week and his efforts to get you to open up to him again. You know how he feels right now, because it’s exactly how you felt when he rejected you. Like when someone is so close, yet so far, you can feel that they’re within arms reach but never truly. And they’re slipping away for some reason that you may never know, but all you can do is assume that it’s a fault of your own. You’re not really sure what he can do to make you feel secure about this whole thing anymore, and you can see the slight panic in his eyes when he realizes that too.

“I don’t mind waiting,” he tells you, rushed with a desperation entirely contrary to his words, “what’s a week or two when I want to spend a lot more of those with you anyways.” But he takes a deep breath, like he’s already mentally preparing himself for an agonizing wait in his head.

There’s a sound over the stadium speakers, something technical and sporty and goes entirely over your head in dismissal, but to Gojo it seems to have a different effect, as he’s suddenly attentive and stands up straighter, that focused expression on his face from earlier resurfacing. You realize he needs to get back to the field. 

“Can we continue this conversation after the game?” he asks you hastily, already turning towards the center of the stadium. And he adds an obligatory, “sorry.”

“Yeah, sure,” you quickly agree, suddenly feeling like you’re taking up his time. 

He gives you a small smile, unsure in its presentation but pure in its intention. But he can only take one step towards the field before you reach out and pinch the fabric of his jersey to keep him still. He feels the tug of it and fully faces you once again. 

“Um. Just a sec,” you say, “I have something to give you before your game.”

“Oh?” he looks at you with interest, “I fucking love things.” 

“You have to close your eyes though.”

“…what is the thing…” He squints at you with a what are you up to expression.

“Just close your eyes!” you snap at him.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” he holds his hands up in front of him in surrender, shaking his head to get his hair out of his face and then he closes his eyes. “You’re scary as hell sometimes. Excuse me for being cautious.”

You roll your eyes, useless because he doesn’t see it, and then take a step towards him. You cup his jaw with the palm of your hand, his cheek twitching slightly from the unexpected contact, and then you raise on your tiptoes to press your lips to his cheek. It’s short and sweet with the sound of a peck.

“For good luck,” you whisper, then you quickly lower yourself back onto your heels, take a step back and tuck some strands of hair behind your ear. The ground suddenly interests you.

He opens his eyes, blinking a few times with shock and his hand comes up to brush the tips of his fingers against the spot you kissed him, and then his gaze goes comically dazed when he reaches out to hold you. “Alright, c’mere you,” he says, closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he leans down to kiss you but you laugh and push his face away.

“No no no, only on the cheek for now,” you say with a small laugh.

He does nothing to restrain his frustrated groan. “You can’t do something that cute and then expect me to be chill about it.”

“If you win, then, maybe I’ll let you kiss me for real.”

“Maybe?”

“Yes. Maybe.”

He’s close, towering over you near this bustling east side entrance that he seems to like so much, and his eyes drop to your lips. “Alright. I like those odds.” 

You give him a smile and slip away from him to get back towards the field, and you feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

The pregame events are a blur, with blaring music accompanied by the sounds of the sports announcers clipping across the speakers, finally quieted down in time for the players to line up on the field for the national anthem which was then followed by UTokyo’s alma mater. 

You’re stationed on the same side of the field as Minato, UTokyo’s side, while Hana is covering the sidelines of the opposite end with the opponents goal post. Minato’s filling up a cup of Gatorade for himself at the athlete’s station and then he comes back around to find you.

“Are you ready to take your shots? I see Hana wanted you to shoot on film today,” he says to you as he sloshes around Glacier Freeze in a flimsy plastic cup.

You twist your aperture dial with your thumb. “Yesss, all set. I’ll try to keep up.” 

He nods at you in approval.

The atmosphere feels nerve wracking. Something felt different about this game, the stakes feeling high. Well, of course they’re high, because if they lose today then they’re out of the tournament. But the stakes feel high for other reasons too, an energy you can pick up on but can’t quite discern. 

Your eyes drift across the field where you can see a referee placing a ball at the center of the field. Off to the right, you can see Gojo standing with a few of his other teammates, including Geto, Nanami, and Choso, and they’re all gesticulating to various corners of the field as they discuss what you can only imagine have to do with their plays for today. And you realize— it’s their last college soccer season. Their second-to-last official home match before the championship, and for those of them that haven’t qualified for the national league, it may be their second-to-last match of this caliber for the rest of their lives. One of the final chances that they have to prove something of themselves. The determination was palpable. 

The chief referee’s whistle cuts through the air with three short chirps, and that gathers the attention of all the players on the field. UTokyo wins the coin toss, choosing to kickoff, and YCU’s players choose to attack the left side goal.

Your stomach churns with anticipation, the crowd hushing too as all the players take their places on the field. If you feel nervous, you can only imagine how the athletes feel. There’s a rhythm that you’ve learned over the past couple of months getting to know the sport, where players stretch out their necks and kick out their feet and take subtle deep breaths as they survey the stands. Idle moments before the start of the match where they have no choice but to look forward and only forward, so they take a moment to stay in the present for as long as they can gather. You’ve never been much of a sports spectator, and perhaps you’ve only recently had some personal interest in the team, but you realize you feel pride in your school as you stand behind chalk sideline and see UTokyo’s colors scattered across the field in uniform. And fuck, you wanted them to win. You wanted them to win with fierceness and wrath, and it’s a desire you share with the crowd. 

Gojo spends a minute talking to the referee before the black and white striped man pats him high on the back in the good sport and urges him towards the center of the field. He lifts his foot up onto the ball, rolling it back and forth underneath the spikes of his cleat, and you can see it in his eyes, even from all the way over here, that he seems to have different ideas in mind for this game too. High stakes. Pre-determined, set with will, evident in the clench of his jaw and the concentrated furrow of his brow as he surveys the field with his eyes, and you’re lost in the sight for what feels like forever because you can hardly register the chirp of the ref’s whistle. 

And then the kickoff starts. 

The ball is tapped to Geto to start the play, and the first few minutes were intense as the ball was passed back and forth between UTokyo’s players, placing pressure on YCU’s defense as they inched closer and closer towards the goal. A pass between UTokyo’s #4 was intercepted by YCU and the ball was rushed down towards the left side, the crowd’s horror evident in the uproar as they raise to their feet in fearful anticipation, and with ruthless offense, YCU’s forward takes a clear sink shot towards the goal, and the crowd holds their breath before they watch Choso lunge for it in air, gloved hands firmly grabbing the ball and then pulling it to his chest with a possessiveness you can only expect to see from a skilled goalie, before he crashes down into the ground and the crowd releases relief in the form of rowdy roars.

Ten minutes in, with everyone on their toes, each team tested each other’s defenses. UTokyo were known for stellar offense, especially within the past few years with players like Gojo Satoru and Takuma Ino joining the league as powerful forwards, but UTokyo’s overall offense was still statistically second to none other than YCU. And the pressure YCU was putting on UTokyo’s defense was wearisome to say the least. You glance to see Nanami, who is UTokyo’s best defensive player, huffing and puffing as he stands between two light-footed YCU players in an attempt to guard, and fails an attempt to steal the ball before it gets to the feet of YCU’s striker #6, passed in a split second off to his teammate, with a fake so seamless that it has Choso just a couple inches away from touching the ball before it’s sent flying into the net. 

The noises from the crowd are still loud, but dampened in spirit. 

With the referees hand signal up in the air, the current score is confirmed. 0-1, YCU. 

Coach Yaga calls for a sub, in which he switches Nanami out for who you believe is a 2nd-year defensive player name Yuta you’ve seen around practice with a promising statistical record for interceptions, and you watch as Nanami takes the bench before he swipes the sweat off his face in exhaustion. God. Just fifteen minutes into the match, and YCU already has UTokyo’s defense winded from play. 

You bring your camera up to your face, forgetting for a moment that there was still a job to do here, and you position the direction of the lens towards the center of the field, where Gojo takes his place at the ball once more. Yuta briefly passes by him, signaling some play to him by holding up a number three, likely something Coach Yaga asked him to pass on to Gojo, and you see him briefly nod, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes slowly and pulls his jersey up to wipe at the sweat at his forehead. 

The referee chirps the whistle, Gojo taps the ball to Yuta, and the play starts. 

YCU immediately puts pressure on UTokyo’s offensive play once more, with eager movements to steal the ball, but it’s passed between UTokyo’s players with ease, more practiced and more sure. The kind of play that you and the rest of the school was used to seeing from them. However, Geto loses the ball on a left-back pass, but right when YCU makes attempts to cover field in a long-shot kick towards the left, Yuta intercepts the ball and swiftly passes it to Gojo.

The crowd immediately rises to their feet in anticipation, watching as Gojo shuffles the ball down the field, dangerously close to off-field boundaries, a signature tactic he uses because he knows there’s not a single player in the league that can match him in precision and control to keep the ball in-field on a steal, and he swiftly passes it towards Geto with a side-swept kick, beelining down towards the goal post, in perfect time for Geto pass-back to meet his feet and when Gojo was this close to a net, there was no stopping him. 

He draws his right foot back, and explosively kicks the ball forward, chipping the grass under it in the motion, and it’s sent flying towards the goal, and then threaded past the goalie right to the back of the net. The cheers that erupt across the stadium rumble the ground beneath you. 

1-1, even match.

UTokyo spends no time celebrating, other than a few pats to Gojo’s back as he nods in acknowledgement, no emotion on his face other than pure concentration and greed. The greed to win, like a righteous sin. He stretches his neck out, panting slightly as he takes his place towards the right side of the field and the referee chirps his whistle to signal YCU to start the kickoff.

They quickly make attempts in moving the ball towards their scoring-end of the field, but face push-back from UTokyo’s defense, unable to make it much further past the midfield line, and you bring your camera up to take a snap of Gojo, who you see is still standing off to the right side of the field. But when you position it and peer through the viewfinder, that space he once stood at was empty. You pull your camera down, and blink at the sight, and then the crowd is picking up in volume once more.

Gojo sprints down the flank, cutting past every defender, and moves towards YCU’s attacking goal, which was a shocking place to be for a center forward, but you could feel his desire and determination to steal this back-and-forth ball, and succeeds when YCU makes an open pass, thinking they were in the clear, only to have Gojo sneak in at the last moment and get the ball at his feet. 

The play moves by in a flash, a blur that you or anyone else in the stadium could hardly keep up with it, movements so fast you were shocked a human being was capable of even running that far in such a short amount of time, and in an almost embarrassingly easy play, Gojo makes a fool out of YCU’s defenders as he slips the ball through the legs of his last obstacle before he struck it with sharp precision, sending it soaring to the corner of the goal, past the outstretched arms of the goalie, and into the net. 

2-1, UTokyo.

It was electrifying, the feeling that strikes through the stadium, one that reaches you in your own blood. You’re shocked, standing here, after witnessing Gojo score two goals within the matter of minutes, against one of the top three teams in the league. It’s a shock that reaches everyone, including Coach Yaga who’s standing about ten feet down the line from you, his arms crossed, and you see his eyes for the first time as he takes his sunglasses off to get a better look at what he’s seeing.

You trail his sight, dragging your gaze across the field until it lands at Gojo, who is barely acknowledging the encouraging pats and shakes and goodhearted shoves that his teammates were giving him, because he was focused. It might sound crazy to say, but you swear his eyes looked like a fiercer shade of blue, like they were lit up, and you’re insanely glad you’re not one of YCU’s defensive players at the moment because you feel fearful of him even just standing on the sidelines. 

Your gaze trails back to Coach Yaga, who slowly puts his sunglasses back on but his brows are narrowed tightly as he crosses his arms over his chest tightly.

The “athletic zone”... You’ve heard of it before. A state of pure focus, of peak performance, where an athlete experiences optimal concentration and a sense of effortless control over their actions. In which they perform at their highest level, where time slows down, any and all distractions fade away, and they’re completely immersed in their sport at hand. At the task at hand.

Coach Yaga seems to pick up on the fact that Gojo was on the edge of tapping into that state. 

YCU makes a substitution, and you watch in anticipation as they begin the kickoff. 

There’s fire in their veins with desperation to even out the score once more, rushing the ball down the off-field line, one of their center forwards mimicking Gojo’s signature attack pattern, and Yuta struggles to keep up with the expert dribbling of a fourth-year player with more experience on him, so much so to where he completely leaves the ball unguarded and there’s an open shot, but Geto places pressure at the last moment, in a fierce battle for the ball, before YCU’s center forward loses the ball over the goal line. 

Choso picks the ball up, tapping on it harshly a few times as he surveys his eyes down the field, and all offensive players begin to shuffle towards their attacking goal in anticipation for the goal kick. He signals his hand down and then holds up two fingers in the air before placing the ball down on the six-yard box. He tightens the strap of one of his gloves, eyes squinting, and you follow his gaze down to a part of the field where you note UTokyo’s best aerial players are located and being guarded by YCU’s defense. And with complete trust in his team, that’s exactly where he kicks the ball. 

Geto makes first contact with the ball, his chest colliding with two other YCU players as his head comes out on top and he headbutts the ball closer towards the inner field, and Gojo immediately gains access to it with a bounce of his knee. The crowd holds their breath, fear that they’ll lose the ball to a steal in the split second it spends floating in the air, but Gojo urges it forward with a bounce off of his chest and then rushes it straight down towards the goal post. 

You wonder what sight he sees right now. Where you’re dead center, at no angle, lunging towards the sight of an open goal with a sole goalie standing in the center, anticipating to block your shot, and three defenders on your tail. There’s no room for error, no time to think, only instincts that you cultivate in the last leading milliseconds. They say that, in sports, athletes channel one hundred hours of practice in just a brief second on the field. A split second success that was years in the making. You can’t even imagine possessing that level of perfection in your body, or possessing that level of confidence that you can follow through with it in a moment as dire as this.

It was unreal, the way Gojo fades away from all the defenders, and faces no fear when confronted with the sight of the goalie in front of him while drawing his foot back to kick the ball. You lift your camera up at the last second, no time to think about aperture or ISO, just like he had no time to second-doubt a single twitch in his muscles, and his foot makes contact with the ball so harshly that you can hear the explosive sound even among the delirious cheers from the crowd, before he hook, line, and sinks it straight past the goalie’s head, rushing by like a scarcely deflected bullet, and into the net behind him. 

3-1, UTokyo.

The whole stadium is momentarily speechless, all players and referees and recruiters and reporters and coaches and employees alike, before the most deafening cheers you’ve ever heard in your life scatter across the stands.

There’s a moment of brief reprieve, where the players can catch their breath while YCU makes yet another substitution, as if they’re just trial-and-erroring it at this point, and the cheers in the stadiums remain idle as you can’t tear your gaze away from Gojo.

It’s one of those moments where you realize that someone who you thought was so familiar to you was actually someone you hardly knew at all. You knew he was a talented soccer player, everyone on campus knows it, potentially one of the best to ever grace the league, and the amount of times you passively watched his plays on a lecture hall projector screen as your professor enthusiastically broke them down during class, even before you met him, was good enough for you to realize that he was insane, a one-in-a-million, a talent you cannot replicate, one you have by divinity. One you were born with. 

And yet, somehow, getting to know him these past couple of months, he just felt so human. For someone so seemingly beyond you, he felt so…close? In those moments where it was just the two of you, it was hard to imagine that he was capable of such greatness, and that so many people were rooting for him with wholehearted tears in their eyes and cheers from their hearts, because most of the time, when he was with you, he was just a dorky idiot. You find that your heart is beating fast in your chest, that feeling of being unsure of what to do with what you’ve been wanting resurfacing powerfully. 

“This is insane,” you hear Minato say from beside you and you jump a little from your thoughts being interrupted.

You twiddle with your camera straps. “I know…almost done with the first half and we’re up 3-1…I thought YCU are number one in offense for the league?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean, yes, that is insane too. But what’s even more insane is that three of the goals so far have been scored by one player.” He tips his chin towards the right sight of the field and you trail his line of sight. “By Gojo Satoru.”

Your brow furrows as you watch Gojo, his hands on his hips and his mouth slightly open as he indulges in a few shallow breaths to gain energy while YCU prepares for kickoff. Three goals, by just one player. Your eyes widen when you realize that is insane, especially for a D1 semi-final qualifying match.

“You know what the divisional record is for most goals scored by a single player during a championship match, y/n?” Minato asks you as he lifts his camera up to take a picture of the area Gojo was standing in. 

You shake your head and wait for his response.

He drops his camera down and glances at the photo on his screen. “Four. During Keio Uni vs. Osaka Uni, near the beginning of the tournament back in 1997 by Osaka’s center forward number 24, Yuji Nakazawa. Meaning no one’s managed to beat that record since the new millenia, for a couple decades. Although a few players came close.”

You blink at him, and Minato is jerking his chin over in the direction of Gojo again.

“I think he’s trying to beat the record.”

You can only widen your eyes at Minato in realization, and then the chirp of the referee’s whistle draws everyone’s attention back to the field. 

The sports announcers go wild on the speakers, the crowd raving all the same, standing to their feet like the team just won the championship match.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! We are watching HISTORY in the making!! Gojo Satoru, UTokyo’s very own 3-year consecutive MVP, has scored his 34th goal of the season, highest of any player in this year’s season so far, and is now on the road to beat the league’s long-standing record for most goals scored by a single player in a championship match since 1997!!” And the crowd roars even louder as you stare out at the field in awe.

YCU starts the kickoff following the prompt short chirp of the referee’s whistle, and with two minutes remaining on the clock for the first half, make desperate attempts to book it down the field towards their attacking goal, one of their midfielders making a clumsy attempt to strike the ball to the net in the final minutes of the half, and Choso easily catches it in his arms, right before the buzzer of the timer sounds, and the match moves into halftime. 

All of UTokyo’s players immediately flock towards Gojo in sportful glee, finally having a chance to surround him and harass him with harsh pats on his back and ruffles of his hair for his play in the first half. Choso even puts him in a headlock because they all don’t know what else to do with their excitement and adrenaline rushing through their bodies. Their win for today was basically confirmed with the way he was playing. 

You catch a glimpse of him through the crowd of people, and he has a boyish grin on his face, reveling in the embarrassing amount of attention from his teammates, that focused look from before dissolving into his normal self again. But you can see through him, as well enough as you’ve learned to at least, and you can tell he’s not satisfied. He’s thinking it’s not enough. There’s still more to be done, and it’s not time to celebrate yet. 

His eyes scan down the sideline until they find you. 

Your heart jumps a second in your chest. He stands up straighter, despite his teammates still clinging to him, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes when your eyes meet. 

Cheerleaders take their place out onto the field, performing their numbers with loud music blaring, and the recruiters seated at their white tables get up to roam across the sidelines in discussion with referees and with Coach Yaga and with whatever players they can sink their greedy teeth into, as well as sneak at refreshments while they’re at it. You can see off to the right that Hana has reunited with Minato and she’s showing him some of the shots she took over at the opponent's side. 

UTokyo’s players start to make their way to the benches to grab for towels and drinks of water and to sprawl across in rest, and you hear loud familiar laughter approaching as you watch the players sprawl across the benches, so you avert your eyes towards the source of the sound. 

You see Gojo approaching the benches, two of his teammates slung with their arms around him in some type of adrenaline-drunken glee as they talk dramatically and theatrically which Gojo entertains with his own drunk-off-of-adrenaline glee. And you raise an eyebrow at his demeanor when he makes eye contact with you.

“There’s my freaky little photographer,” he says, and he’s standing up straight and—wait, is he puffing his chest out as he makes his way towards you? Oh for fucks sake.

Gojo has always been confident around you, for as long as you can remember, but in the fair few moments he’s been cocky, he’s been a menace. And you can only assume the testosterone-induced high of being on the verge of breaking a league record in front of the entire school then subsequently getting homiesexually praised by his teammates for the better part of the past five minutes, not to mention with the crowd and the reporters feeding his ego with a spoon across the speakers, he’s been transformed into the final boss of cocky.

His teammates surround you too, their hands on their hips as they assess you and Gojo when he meanders right up to you, arms held out to hug you, a sleazy sight you’ve seen probably six times this week, and you feel a rush of warmth in your cheeks as you place a hand on his chest to keep him away.

“You’re sweaty and gross, please stay away from me,” you reprimand him, “this is an expensive lens that is not humidity-proof.” 

“Hey, you’re the girl that Kentaro socked in the face with a ball the other day at practice, right?” one of his teammates asks, leaning in towards you to take a closer look at your face.

“Oh yeahhh, ‘cause Satoru wasn’t paying attention,” another one of his teammates chimes in teasingly, hardly heard over the loud remix playing in the background as the cheerleaders continue to perform on the field. 

You shrink a little from where you stand. Gojo’s got an irritated look on his face and he’s shrugging his teammate’s elbow off of his shoulder.

“I really hope you’re getting my good angles,” his teammate to the left comments before winking at you, and you purse your lips together. 

The one on the right leans in too, looking at your cheek with an assessing look in his eye. “At least it didn’t leave a scar on your cute face—”

Gojo shoves the both of them back and away from you by elbowing them in the chest, and they make deep eugh noises before stepping away and rubbing at their sternums with pouts on their faces.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he grumbles, “she’s mine.”

Your cheeks flush slightly with warmth at the attention, and you watch as his teammates scurry away to adhere to some social hierarchy Gojo seems to possess over them.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yours?”

“Yes. Eventually. Whatever, did you see me out there?” he turns his torso towards the field and points behind himself with his thumb, “when I—”

“Oh god, you know what’s soooooooooo super sexy to me?” you interrupt him. “When guys are humble.”

“Oh c’monnn,” he curls his arm around your waist and pulls you to him, to where you stumble a little on grass and he holds you when you fall into him with more clumsiness than grace. “Tell me you aren’t at least impressed by me.”

You pout, because you are, and you’d really like to give him some reassurance and validation, but for some reason his cocky attitude is setting you off. “Satoru,” you sigh, wiggling a little in his hug, but he holds you tighter, “I’m working right now. Cut it out.”

He lets go of you at that, sober enough from the adrenaline to realize you’re being serious, but he steps into your space so only you can hear him. “What? Are you embarrassed?”

“Of what?” Your face twists with confusion.

“Of me. Are you embarrassed of me?” he asks.

“No. Why would I be embarrassed of you?” you ask with sharpness.

“I don’t know, just, sometimes I feel like you’re always annoyed by me,” he says with a sigh. “It’s like, you’re really sweet sometimes, and then kinda rude out of nowhere, and it’s sort of messing with my head.”

You pout. “You were messing with my head for weeks.”

“And I’m sorry about that,” he quickly interjects, like he already knew you were brewing up that counterargument, “but you don’t have to act like you’re all disinterested and indifferent just to get back at me for it.” He places his hands on his hips and wipes his temple on the round part of his shoulder when he feels a drop of sweat trickle down from his hairline. “You don’t have to act embarrassed around me either.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” you deny, and your cheeks feel hot, and for some reason you feel angry. “In fact, I’m the one that should be asking you that question. Because I still very clearly remember that time you said I was just someone you know in front of your friends.”

He groans and tilts his head back with frustration. “Can you just let that go? Things have changed between us since then. Move on.” 

“You kissed me and then pretended I was just a stranger to you in front of your friends,” you grit as you cross your arms. “That’s the level of sincerity that I know from you, Satoru.”

“Oh, okay, so there’s nothing else I’ve done that shows you that I’m serious about you?” he asks rhetorically with incredulity, throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief.

No. That’s not true, not true at all. But he’s pissed you off now and so all logic was to the wind. “Doesn’t matter. If you’re not embarassed of me, and if you’re really serious about me this time, then fucking prove it.” You’re speaking out of spite, and you fear you’ve just set him off too.

“Fine,” he says, and he grabs the microphone straight out from a passing reporter’s hand, replacing it with a gatorade bottle. The reporter stares at the bottle he’s now holding with confusion. “I will.”

“W-Wait—” you squeak out, feeling the hair at the back of your neck bristle in anticipation and a shiver gets sent down your spine. The cheerleaders are making their way off the field at the end of their routine, and you can hear the thumps across the loud boisterous speakers when Gojo whacks his palm to the microphone to make sure the thing was on before he jogs to the center of the field.

The crowd is already cheering, ecstatic to see the afternoon's star player and pride & joy of their school, and Gojo takes a moment to soak in all the glory in comical appreciation with bowing towards all 360 degree angles of the stadium.

“Uhhh,” you hear Choso from beside you, who’s strapping his thick goalie gloves tightly to his wrists, “Why the fuck does Satoru have a microphone while standing in the middle of the field.”

“It can’t be for any publicly decent reason,” Geto muses.

All you can do is watch.

“Hi, uh,” Gojo starts, static blaring slightly across the speakers and the crowd winces with him, “sorry. I’m Satoru, Gojo Satoru, you might know me from—uh, the game you’ve been watching?”

Cheers all around, because as if a single person wouldn’t know who he is. The stands were rowdy and most definitely drunk off of sidestep beers the stadium has been serving all afternoon long. 

Gojo is about to continue speaking, when he catches sight of the table of recruiters in the corner of his eye and he turns to face them out of respect. “Oh, yeah, uh, number 10,” he tugs his jersey up at the shoulder to stretch out the fabric, the 1 and the 0 flattened in view, “division player ID 233-997. Coach Yaga keeps my business cards in his purse if you want one.”

“SAAAAATTOOORRUUUU!!!!!” you hear Coach Yaga yell from somewhere in the distance.

“Anywho,” Gojo continues, and the music dims slightly, so he glances at the stop clock on the screen, which shows him he’s got roughly five minutes left to pull off whatever idiocracy he had in mind before the second half of the game starts. “Just here to say that there’s this girl I really like.”

The crowd gets louder, almost deafening, and sonically mostly feminine in (delusional) hope he’s gonna name call one of them.

Gojo’s voice is crisp and clear through the speakers as he clarifies. “She’s standing over there,” he says as he nonchalantly points to your exact latitude and longitudinal direction, “with the big camera slung around her neck that looks like it could pull her down to the center of the earth. Yeah. She’s super cute and I really like talking to her.”

“Uh-oh,” Geto murmurs from beside you, and you glance at him to try to get a read on the situation but you can’t.

Gojo starts to pace across the center of the field now, like he’s working the crowd. “But get this—she thinks I’m not fuckin’ serious about her!!!”

The crowd groans with him in unison. Yep, most certainly drunk. Or high off of glee. Either way, he’s playing them like a violin.

“Huh?” Gojo’s voice sounds distant now, away from the mic, and you can see on the large pixelated screen that he’s being interrupted by someone that looks like one of the videographers, “oh, what’s that? This is being broadcasted? Uh-huh. Oh. I’m not allowed to cuss? Oh fuck, okay. Er— shit, okay. Wait—shoot, okay.”

Choso’s smirk is heard from beside you, and you catch Geto and Nanami shaking their heads in your periphery.

“LIKE I SAID,” Gojo continues into the mic, “the girl I like thinks I’m just messing around, so. Uh. To show her that I’m serious about her, I’m gonna…” He looks up at the sky to ponder, and you can hear people shouting all sorts of suggestions of nonsense from the crowd. And instead of saying proclaim my undying affection for her through a romantic soliloquy straight from my heart in the presence of the entire school, he says—“I’m gonna strip. Yes. Down to my tighty whities, Imma strip.”

H–

Huh?!?!?

You don’t even have time to be horrified or scared, you’re just bewildered beyond belief that that’s what he came up with.

What the fuck kind of reassurance did you ask for. And what the fuck kind of reassurance were you about to get?

The crowd goes wild, it’s no surprise to say everyone and their mothers wants to see him naked, even the straight dudes would dig it for the gym inspo. And he points straight to you, sleazy look on his face and you’re going to ignore the fact that he just winked at you too as he crosses his arms to hold the hem of his jersey and pulls it up over his head in the most raunchy and slutty way a man can take his shirt off.

The music manager is quick with the bit, and is most definitely a fellow Gen Z college student, because Justin Timberlake’s SexyBack (ft. Timbaland) starts playing across the speakers and the crowd goes ballistic.

“Ayo why’s Satoru Magic Mike’ing the field right now?” one of his other teammates calls out through a mouthful of protein bar, “What the fuck did I miss?”

The cameraman does God’s work in a hella zoom-in of Gojo’s sweat glistened abs, then pans up the naked expanse of the perfect taut skin across his chest, and you can’t help but stare even among all your horror. It’s like when a male bird embarrasses the fuck outta himself to attract a female bird sitting on a perch, except instead of within the context of a NatGeo documentary, this was your real life. Everyone wants him, but he’s making a fool out of himself for you. 

He pretends to stretch his arms up into the air, a cover-up to flex his biceps, and then he kicks his cleats off, and the socks come off too. Entirely unnecessary, as showing one's ankles is simply too slutty, but alas he’s a whore. And when his thumbs dip into the waistband of his shorts, and there’s anticipating screeching from the crowd, he finally gets chased by security. 

Except he’s an intercollegiate D1 athlete, why the fuck wouldn’t he be able to outrun a bunch of dudes in black?

The camerawork on him is phenomenal as he runs across the sidelines of the field, eliciting a wave down the bleachers. So good in fact that you’re pretty sure the camera man could shoot for the Olympic track and field, with the way the stadium’s got a clear sight of Gojo mouthing the lyrics Them other fuckers don’t know how to act from the song still blaring with satirical rage on his face as he makes a fool of the men chasing him around the perimeter of the field.

And then he does it, drops his shorts, discards them with a kick, and he’s down to his tighty whities as promised. Cameraman has got to be displaying some previously undiscovered level of talent as he zeroes in on a shot of said tighty whities, with Gojo’s—forgive me, I need to be crass—huge bulge prominent in Big Dick Energy fashion except his tighty whities have little red hearts in rows across the fabric so do with that duality what you will.

He’s outrun security with a steady grin on his face as he eats up the drunken crowd’s cheers and riots and roars and you feel like you’re the only sane person in this stadium, or maybe you’re just not used to the fanatics of a college sports crowd. You peep the men in black trailed all the way on the left side of the field where they abandoned their pursuit of Gojo.

He taps imaginary pockets at his thighs, very muscular thighs you take indulgence in noticing, as if he expected to find something there, and he looks around when he doesn’t. He shrugs and grabs the microphone of the next passing sports commentator he spots, and then he makes his way back to you.

His breathing is a little shallow, and he inhales deep to catch his breath. “Baby.” The crowd SCREAMS at the way he purrs the word into the mic. “Will you do me the honor,” he’s huffing and puffing, heard across blaring speakers, “of being my lawfully wedded girlfriend?” And then he holds the mic to your lips.

“W-Wha—” you stutter, and there’s chanting across the crowd with words that barely make sense until you finally realize they’ve started to yell say yes! say yes! say yes! “Oh my gosh, okay, yes, fine, now please, for the love of god, put some freaking clothes on!”

The crowd goes wild with cheerful glees, and Gojo shoots fists up in the air in celebration as he runs all the way towards the center of the field with high knees, and you’re gawking at the sight, before he falls backward onto the grass and makes delirious snow angels on the ground. You see Coach Yaga’s vein popping in his neck from pure agitation as he storms off towards the center of the field to knock some sense into Gojo, but you know that Coach Yaga can’t kick him out, because they still have a game to win. The perks of being the most valued player in the league is getting to act like an absolutely insane idiot because you know they still need you in the end to bring it home.

You glance to the right, seeing his teammates nodding slowly then getting back to wrapping athletic tape around ankles and stretching out shoulders, with immediate acceptance of his actions like it wasn’t even out of character for him to do. And you realize again that you don’t know Gojo as well as you think you do.

And then the halftime timer is up.

You see Gojo approach the benches in a quick jog, squeezing some water into his mouth with his green gatorade squirt bottle, and when your eyes flit up to the screens on all four entrances, you see that the cameramen are still all focused on him accompanied by the continued buzz of conversation among the crowd following his public spectacle. But he seems to already be past any semblance of embarrassment as he takes the attention with ease, before he glances up to make eye contact with you and then lightly jogs right up to you.

“Did that prove to you that I’m not embarrassed of you?” he asks you, cocking a brow with a smug look on his face as he gets all up in your personal space. 

“I don’t know, but I’m certainly thoroughly and expeditiously embarrassed of you now,” you say, cheeks feeling flush when he leans forward so he can make eye contact with you at eye level. “I’ll have to move to a different country.”

His grin is relaxed. “Yeah well you asked for it.”

“Maybe. But I underestimated what a lunatic you are.”

“You’re my girlfriend now, you’ve gotta get used to it.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. “Satoru–”

“Tomorrow,” he cuts you off, “Hinode pier. I’ll pick you up at six. It’s a date, so wear something cute. And preferably easy to take off.” And then he’s attentive to the chirp of the referee’s whistle in the air before jogging backwards towards the feel and eventually turns on his heel towards the field while you’re left with warm cheeks and a heart that felt like it was moving at a mile a minute.

The timer for the second half refreshes on the screen while you loosely hold your camera in your shaking hands. It occurs to you that you haven’t taken a single photo of him before the start of the kickoff, and so you bring the piece of consolidated metal up to your eyes, peering through the viewfinder and focusing it on the center of the field. And there he was. Your muse.

Gojo lets out a breath, which you can see even from here that it’s shaky and staggered with resistance, and he lifts his jersey up to swipe at the sweat trickling down his face as he eyes the ball underneath YCU’s player’s foot just prior to the start of the second half. There it was—that look again of pure focus. 

3-1, forty-five minutes on the clock. And the referee chirps the whistle to start the second half.

It’s immediately evident that YCU has returned to the field following halftime with renewed energy, pressing high down the flank relentlessly past UTokyo’s defense, so fast it was hard for anybody to even keep a steady eye on the ball with the fluidity of their passes. The persistence pays off in the fake double-pass that slips past Geto’s feet, a moment of hesitation in the broken flow of UTokyo’s defense, and one of YCU’s strikers has the perfect line of shot towards the goal before digging his foot under the ball and sending it flying towards the corner of the goal post, scoring themselves a goal within just the first five minutes of play.

3-2.

The pressure mounts at the next kickoff, and with about seven minutes of solid play, with back-and-forth passes, multiple attempts at both goal posts to no avail on either side, it was clear that exhaustion was bustling in the veins of all the players.

One of YCU’s offensive players seems to capitalize on this, jumping on a defensive lapse of a pass Nanami attempted to make towards Yuta, and the ball is swiftly stolen then raced back towards the goal post. Choso prepared himself at the line, light on his feet paired with a solid stance, but in a millisecond of a moment, YCU’s offense unexpectedly passes the ball to a player racing up the midfield, and the player chips the ball neatly into the exposed corner of the goal despite Choso’s attempt to lunge for it in mid air.

Equalized, 3-3 game, momentary shock across the players’ faces, and the crowd bustles with something that sounds less like glee and more life fear. YCU was prepared to live up to and hold onto their title as the league’s number one offense, and as Minato explained to you during your time working in this job, an offensive team isn’t good at scoring goals, but rather exceptional at breaking down the other team’s defense.

Your eyes zero in on Geto, who stands in the center of the field for kickoff, and he’s huffing and puffing. He's the lead of defense for the team, and you can only imagine the level of pressure he feels right now. He glances around to his players, over to Nanami who seemed to share the same level of exhaustion, and then he glances towards Gojo who stood in front of him off to the right. Except you notice that Gojo looks relaxed, albeit still exhausted, but there’s a composed expression on his face even in the moment of heightened stakes. With locked eyes, Geto nods at Gojo and raises two fingers up into the air to signal a play, of which Gojo seems to respond to by closing more distance between him and the goal post prior to the kickoff, positioning himself almost directly in front of it, to which YCU’s defense immediately begin to guard him in a tight radius. 

The kickoff begins, with Geto making a few passbacks with Nanami as they close distance towards the field before passing it off to UTokyo’s string of offense and then receding back to their defending goal. UTokyo continues to close distance, raising stakes for YCU as their defense begins to falter under pressure, and the ball gets passed to Gojo, who only keeps it in possession for less than three seconds before he passes it back to Yuuji, a risky decision to make in the second half of a semifinal match, but the first-year swiftly unleashes a powerful shot that rockets past YCU’s goalkeeper, up towards the corner, except–

It bounces off the metal of the goal post, shot off with projectile speed back towards the center of the field, but with razor-sharp reflexes, Gojo headbutts the ball in air, twists his torso and strikes the ball with his foot past a dumbfounded goalie who can’t even move an inch to guard the ball that he already knew was going to sink right into the goal, and that’s exactly what it does. 

The stadium erupts with the momentum.

4-3, UTokyo. 

It was a sweet moment, one you manage to capture on camera of Gojo running up to Yuuji and ruffling his hair in reassurance, despite the missed goal. Your heart feels warm in your chest, feeling your own sense of melancholy that this was one of the last times they’ll ever get to play together on a team. 

Your eyes widen when you glance at the scoreboard, realizing that he’s tied. Gojo is tied for the most goals scored during a championship match. There were less than three minutes left on the clock. UTokyo either preserves their lead, or they risk moving into overtime, which, judging by the exhaustion on the UTokyo players’ faces in the wake of YCU’s relentless offense this entire game, moving into overtime would be a hefty, hefty risk. 

YCU’s center forward takes his place in the center of the field, fire evident in his eyes as he glances across the field. YCU are light on their feet, channeling everything in their bodies into these last moments of the game as they prepare to start the kickoff. You glance across UTokyo’s players, and although they look spent, there was a resolute look to all of them. It wasn’t the time to give up or feel at ease even near the end of this grueling battle. Now was the time to play. 

The referee chirped his whistle, and the kickoff began.

YCU immediately presses hard, as all their other plays have been all game, in their desperation to score. You can already see UTokyo’s midfielders move sluggishly in comparison to YCU’s offense, a drag to their feet as YCU pushes past the first layer of defense towards their attacking goal. Geto takes an aggressive approach, making moves to steal the ball while Nanami and Yuta guarded both flanks, and there was a relentless pass-off happening that ate up more than a minute of the remaining time.

Nanami succeeds in stealing the ball, but immediately loses it under his feet by a YCU midfielder, who makes a broad pass down the sidelines to YCU’s star forward who then powerfully kicks the ball towards the unguarded area of their goal, a dangerous shot that was clear towards the crossbar and Choso makes a leap for it, high into the air, his glove brushing against the ball, the entire crowd holding their breath in anticipation–

And the ball lands in the net. 

4-4, tied game. With one minute and seventeen seconds left on the clock. 

There was no time wasted in getting back to center field. No time spent dwelling in the horrific roars of the crowd as they watch with anxiety and fear. No time spent to process or consider or signal any plays. Not even a single second used to catch breath. When there is this much at stake, an athlete thrives on momentum. 

To your surprise, Gojo isn’t the one that takes place at the center of the field to start the kickoff. Yuta stands there instead, and you notice his eyes are erratic as he surveys all corners of the field. 

The referee chirps his whistle. 

Yuta immediately passes it off to the side to UTokyo’s midfielder, who curls it towards their attacking goal with a swift pass to Ino, who closes distance towards the goal, but one of YCU’s defender slips in, undoing any progress they had made in their offense by stealing the ball and sending it back towards mid-field. Forty-three seconds. The crowd’s roars heightened as YCU continued to push forward, thirty yards now from scoring, and UTokyo’s defense was desperate to stop them but their momentum was cracking in the wake of their exhaustion. 

It was a moment you don’t think you could ever fully or truly recall, one that you wish you had focused all your energy and attention to so that you could commit it to memory for the rest of your life. The image of Gojo pushing all the way to ten yards before their defending goal, a place where no center forward should really be at in a game like this, but it was exactly what their defense needed. It was exactly what the team needed. It was exactly what the school needed. For the ball to be in his possession.

With twenty-two seconds left on the clock, he steals the ball from right under YCU’s offensive feet, and then charges towards the opposite side of the field. The crowd rises to their feet, thunderous roaring that overtook any and all senses, as Gojo weaves through forwards, center forwards, midfielders, and defenders, covering the entire span of the field in lightning time. Fifty yards, forty yards, thirty yards, twenty hards, ten yards–

In a moment you couldn’t believe, he digs his foot underneath the ball, and sends it flying out towards the goal. There was not even a margin of an inch in which it slipped past the goalie’s hands, past his head, and swiftly flew right into the net.

With three-two-one seconds, the match was over. 

5-4, UTokyo’s win.

The final whistle blew, and for a moment, there was silence. As if the world paused to catch its breath. Then, all at once, the crowd erupted with glee that shook the entire stadium at its core. Flags waving, scarves held high, toasts of beer held up to the sky, it was deafening, and it almost makes you want to cry. Thousands of voices shouting in unison, celebrating the hard-fought victory of their school’s team. A type of pride that was fostered, and well-deserved, and long-lived.

You quickly glance towards the field again, and see Gojo standing right at the same spot where he had kicked the last and final goal, staring towards the net. You can’t see the expression on his face, but it surprises you how still he is. Like a statue, staring at the goal with the ball tucked into its corner. The very epitome of what it means to succeed in this sport was right in front of him, and it seemed like he wanted to soak the visual in for as long as he could.

His trance is abruptly interrupted when his teammates swarm in, rushing over like a wave of pure adrenaline. They slap him on the back, ruffle his hair, shout his name, the sounds of gleeful disbelief mixed with exhausted sighs of relief swarming into the air. And Gojo finally melts away from the tension of the match and into the celebration as he weakly returns the embraces of his teammates while he catches his breath. 

“IT’S OFFICIAL!! IT’S OFFICIAL!! UTOKYO’S VERY OWN GOJO SATORU HAS OBLITERATED OSAKA UNIVERSITY’S RECORD FOR MOST GOALS SCORED BY A SINGLE PLAYER IN A CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!!” 

The speakers are blaring the voices of the sports announcers, along with ambient music to match the intensity of the match that everyone had just witnessed. 

You should probably be doing your job. You know, take a picture of the huddle of players on the field as they bask in the glory of a close victory, but instead your feet start moving on their own. Like a magnet drawn to him, you make your way towards Gojo, only a slight hesitation in your step as you stop about ten feet away, suddenly unsure. But when he makes eye contact with you, all that fear melts away.

He hastily pats the backs of some of his teammates, acknowledging their praise at the center of the huddle before tightly squeezing past them to make his way over to you. Your heart is beating fast in your chest, feeling an almost overwhelming sense of pride in your school’s team, but more importantly, in him. What was the acceptable thing to do? Run to him, into his arms, and hug him while he twirls you around? Tackle him to the grassy ground? Kiss him like your life depended on it? You have no clue what the acceptable or sane or normal thing to do is. But he’s made his decision for you when he walks right up to you, his hands holding your waist as he pulls you towards him. He smells earthy, of grass and salt and sweat and of all the hard work he poured into today, the wear and tear of the game evident in the wear and tear of his jersey. He only manages to huff out an exhale at the sight of you, like some relief washing over him just by looking into your eyes. Forget the fact that the crowd was all watching and that all of the screens you could see past his head were focused on the two of you, because all you could hear or see or think was him.

“I believe you owe me a kiss,” he says, huffing as he catches his breath but that doesn’t stop the smile that makes its way onto his face.

You nod your head, giving him your own version of a sweet smile as your arms slide up past his shoulders, crossing behind his neck, and he leans down to kiss you.

You hear a swell from the crowd, some teasing comments off in the distance from some of his teammates, you’re pretty sure you hear Coach Yaga yelling at him to get back to the benches, but it all melts away with the feeling of him smiling against your lips as he kisses you at the center of this stadium.

It was a moment so pure, so sweet, so picture perfect, and for once, you’re not the one behind the camera taking the photo. You’re the one that’s in it.

.

.

.

.

.

[end of kickoff ch12]

a/n. aaa thanks a lot for reading!! pls the fucking public stripping scene was so stupid i apologize on behalf of kickoff gojo for his behavior 😂😂 i’ll put him in his cage dw this chapter had some of what i consider to be the most challenging aspects of writing for me (internal conflict, grand public gesture, sports jargon) and so writing it felt like an uphill battle the ENTIRE time i wrote it and edited it. i considered scrapping it sooo many times cuz i just wasn't happy w it...but whatever i can't expect to be 100% happy w every chapter i put out there haha. i think kickoff has become a lil sacred for me since i've been working on it for a while now but likeee...sometimes u just gotta say fuck it we ball (tbh kickoff gojo probably says that to himself before a match) anywho, i am veryy thoroughly excited for what i've got planned for the chapters to follow, especially moving into the last angsty arc before the end of the series!! so i look forward to picking up momentum w this series again :0 honestly chapters 10 through 12 were the most difficult things i've written so far for a lot of reasons, but i have a feeling things will go more smoothly for me creatively going forward since what i've got planned falls well within my writing comfort range oh also there seems to be a little confusion about the number of chapters left, as i know i had originally said 12, but i anticipate that there will be about 18 chapters of kickoff total!! so still around six chapters left before the end :)) much lovee thanks for reading!!

OH WAIT ONE LAST NOTE I'M SORRY i didn’t really have a way of organically incorporating this into the story n i’m not sure if i’ll get a chance to in the upcoming chapters, so i just wanted to share this part of ch7 (gojo’s pov chapter) that is relevant to this chapter:

During the thrilling semifinal match between Keio Uni, Gojo’s father’s team, and Yokohama Uni during the end of his senior year, spectators witnessed a game that most college soccer enthusiasts would deem was a once-in-a-lifetime watch. Both teams engaged in relentless offense, and Gojo’s father was on his way to shatter the record of the most goals scored in a single championship match within the history of the league, but when he received a call from his wife during a timeout with the most life-altering news he could have ever heard, he abandoned everything on the field that day to go home and be with her. Grainy footage from the televised broadcast still exists online today—the moment he sprinted across the field, confused players glancing in his direction, amidst the uproar of the crowd. She called to let him know she was pregnant. 

the record that gojo broke in this chapter is the same record that his father almost broke before he got the call that he was going to be a dad :0 

➸ you're all caught up!

additional notes. please do not pressure me for updates or ask when i will next update (read rules); taglist is currently closed (consider subscribing to the story on my ao3 for email updates if you'd like! :0)

taglist:

@megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed

@wynney @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

@phoenix-eclipses @who-can-touch-my-boob @mo0nforme @reagan707 @lost-resonance

@foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @beabadobeee @thexmistress

@tsukikourito @pickuptruck01 @gabriiiiiiii @4y3sh4 @tiredflame132

@cliosunshine @btszn @izayas-rings @semra4 @ethereally-lyann

@drthymby @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010

@joemama-2 @horisdope @banenemilk @nanasukii28 @spindyl

@ri-sa20 @thexmistress @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @sashisuslover

@chwesuh-imnida @megumisthirdog @imjustaweirdnerd @angelicscribe

[taglist is closed]

[allfearstofallto]

Wow I loved your latest child piece, do you think he would try desperately to make his sons like him? Give them gifts and go fishing together with his oldest son? I mean he can see that the kid is terrified of him but he tries to reassure him but to no avail. I think he would let his anger out on some of his poor Fatui men or on his missions whenever these moments happen to him. That’s so angsty how Childe loves his family but they only see him as the monster they think he is.

Y'all I actually really do like writing for yandere Childe's family!! The angst is so fucking good!!

But since I can't keep up with the nameless kids, the older boy is Adonis and the younger one is Damon

Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Yandere Themes, Reader has children, mentions of previous abuse

“You look so cute all bundled up like that, my sweet,” you praised your older son, even patting his head and squeezing his cheeks the way you knew he liked. Yet nothing you were doing could lift the dark cloud that was over him, the fear in his eyes was paralyzing and he was gripping the hem of your dress so tightly, you thought he'd rip it if he were made to let go.

“P-pl-please don't send me away, mommy,” Little Adonis whimpered through tears and you felt your heart shatter. Orange hair framing his face, you brushed it to the side. You hated just how much they looked like their father, his genes so strong they were like little carbon copies of him. And their cries always tugged at your heart, you hated that he made you feel empathy for his face

With your other son still on your hip, you tried to comfort both boys. Finding it difficult to soothe with your hands full. Adonis had gone from whimpering and labored breaths to full blown sobbing at this point, wiping the tears from his chubby cheeks with the backs of his mittens. You tried to stop him from crying, tried to get him to calm down. When the older one cried, so did the younger, and soon Damon was also in your arms shedding tears.

“Your father just wants to take you out for a bit,” your voice was shaky as you tried to reassure him, “You won't even be far. The pond is only a short walk away.” Your words fell on deaf ears as they continued to cry, both of them getting your dress wet with their fat tears.

“What's all the commotion?” The voice that asked this question somehow managed to make both of your children suck their tears up quickly and fall into an almost scary silence. They peaked up at you, waiting for your response to Ajax, who was giving you his usual charming smile.

“I- I just don't think Adonis is very fond of the snow,” you spoke quickly while patting the boy's head, even cupping his cheeks to try and wipe away some of the wetness from his face.

If Childe noticed how tense the entire family has become at his presence he didn't speak on it. Instead he took a knee right in front of his son, also reaching up to pat the boy's head, but he flinched away from his father's touch. You squeezed his shoulder a bit too tightly to hold him in place, making him look up at you in a way that broke your heart. He felt as if you were betraying him, but you knew better, what Childe could do to him was much much worse.

“That's nonsense. He's from Snezhnaya, he should love the snow,” he finally got to pet Adonis’ head. His large hand that was covered in scars and callous practically getting lost in the orange locks.

“Maybe he takes more after me,” you took Childe's hand, trying to put his attention more on you instead, “It doesn't even get cold in Liyue. You remember how much I hated it here when I first arrived, don't you?”

His eyes went dark for a moment as he squeezed your hand a little too tightly, “You hated it here for a lot of reasons.”

“But the cold was the worst part,”

“Adonis will be fine,” he spoke while placing a kiss upon your lips, then one on Damon's forehead, “My father took me ice fishing when I was practically an infant.”

“I-i suppose,” words muttered with your head down.

The two of them slipped on their boots together, with Childe even helping his son tie his. You felt on edge watching the both of them leave out the door. It was the first time that you'd ever left Childe alone with him, and the instinct inside of you that was telling you to protect them was on high alert. There was nothing you feared more than your husband.

But nothing could be done. Childe kissed you again on the lips and you pressed your forehead to your sons, quietly whispering words of assurance to him and most of all Please be good.

[landograndprix]

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part iii

✧.* things with lando get serious quickly and while your'e going through a rollocoaster of emotions with everything that's going on the public voices their own opinion.

✧.* this was supposed to be a cutesy, fluffy series but would it really be a landonfour story if it doesn't turn angsty? 💀 reader is older. Taglist is open. I always see your requests to be added to the list in the comments and I do add you but if you can't find your name in the list, it's probably because I was unable to tag you and therefore put you off the list. Feel free to ask again though, we'll keep trying! 😊

✧.* prev part - next part

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mclaren

liked by landonorris, y/nusername and 98,765 others

mclaren dream team..literally 😴

tagged: landonorris, y/nusername

view all 362 commente

julieeeexo admin is going to be the biggest y/nlando shipper out there 😂

norry4 match made in heaven

norrislandofan y/n be sleeping so much because she's of old age 🤪

hamilt44n so funny..I'm so quirky..landos definitely going to fuck me.. 🤪

bott_ass didn't know there was a fucking age limit to taking naps..damn

jackson88 they better be wide awake when the season starts, I'm expecting big things!!

hannahh me and who, when?

mclarenslando stop it, the season hasn't even started yet and McLaren's already exposing them 😂

carlandosainz 🤮 🤮

chilisainz babe, do we need to call an ambulance or are you overreacting again?

landonorris cute

norrizz I think you forgot the heart emojis and everything

y/nusername can't live in peace anymore

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, milouberger and 201,853 others

y/nusername ..and we shall call it family 💕

view all 876 comments

hamilt44n okay but what does it take for y'all to accept me in the family?

y/nsmclaren hope you have fun bbyyy 🥰

laaaandonorr do your parent know you like little boys?

milouberger where was my invite? Tell dad he forgot to text me the location..

y/nusername dad just told me he's disowned you..

milouberger oh 😔

f1gurlz ..and another family torn apart :(

nor4iss they better hide those children knowing y/n loves her boys young 💀

sainznorriss are any of your nieces, nephews or siblings looking for a girlfriend? Asking for a friend 👀

gaslyslando ur disgusting

bobnorris get out of here if you're so disgusted 🙄

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 199,653 others

y/nusername recharging 🔋

view all 786 comments

mcbully/n yessss y/n, kick back and relax because we need you back on the track in top form!

charlos16 okay girl, keep being an absolute vibe. 😍

grussell63 imagine being lando and getting to call her yours 😭

landoscar don't know who to be jealous of 😭

pierreswife she's for real or of his league!

teamlando4 nah lando's way out of y/n her league, she should find someone hey own age 🤨

grussell63 @.teamlando4 nobody asked for your WRONG opinions.. thank you.

julieeeexo pls tell me where you got that necklace from, I need it 😍

cecilemoulin beauty 🥰

y/nusername no you 🥰

leclercnorriss leave lando alone and retire already

hamillewis why's everybody hating so much? Let her live her life..

landonorris 😍😍

norrizz okaaaay boy said I'm not hiding anything

lan4lan I mean he's been waiting to call y/n his for years 😂

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landonorris posted on his story

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taglists->

Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @buckybarnessweetheart @itsjustkhaos @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @jjsprobablywrong

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @buffysummrsx @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @ihrtdan @landossainz @christianpulisic10

[ynbabe]

Come Through ୨୧ George Russell x Rockstar! Reader

Is rockstar the right word? idk I just know bro is crazy bts, the white boy with Excel persona is fooling NO ONE Georgie boy. Also, Reader has vibes of the Weekend song, hence the fic name.

Lando thinks it's all a joke. He hadn't been crying, screaming and manifesting for the past three years only for his celebrity crush to be dating someone else, another driver that too.

"WHO-" He yells as he storms into Max's room, where most of the drivers had collected, they hadn't decided but they all just gravitated towards the blonde with sweet blue eyes who listened to the vent and gave the best hugs, "AFTER ALL WE WENT THROUGH- WHO IS DATING Y/N L/N?"

All eyes were on him, Max lying on his bed, Charles, Carlos and Daniel with him. Lance, Esteban and Pierre were on the sofa, playing FIFA on Max's PS5, George and Alex were sharing the smaller two-seater, Zhou and Yuki were passing a tennis ball to each other and Logan and Oscar were sleeping, cuddling close on the floor surrounded by pillows, but were now woken up by Landos yelling.

"Lando stop screaming," Charles yelled back.

"No," he simply replied and made his way to the bed where he jumped on top of Carlos and Daniel, the older of whom groaned and grumbled something about his back, but Lando didn't care, he pushed his phone in Max's face, blurring his face in Carlos's neck.

xoxof1

xoxof1 Y/n l/n an infamous British rockstar most famous for her multiple dating scandals and most recently an arrest is rumoured to date a F1 driver.

username MOTHER WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE 😭😭😭

username girl... knowing her it's like Lewis or someone

username fr like hasn't she 'dated' a dozen older guys not to mention her record with women username girl why are you hating like a man, she's iconic and we all know it

username just lost my wife to a vroom-vroom man no one talk to me

Max began laughing, looking up from the post to the distraught Lando currently getting his hair played with by Carlos.

"Mate, I don't think you're her type," he threw the phone back to the whining boy.

"Yeah? And how would you know? I look exactly like Edward!" He pointed to the bassist of the band you were a part of.

"Kelly loves her music..." he muttered, looking away much to the younger man's amusement.

"HAH!" He shrieked, "SHE'S NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND ANYMORE!!" He laughed to which Carlos pushed his head down, eliciting an 'oomph'.

"I've been told many times," Max muttered to himself and turned to Lando to hear the rest of his rant, though loud and fast, the boy was the best source of entertainment they had.

"Max, look at her band, she's so coooool," he groaned, passing the phone to him again.

Cupidd

Cupidd THANK YOU LA!! We'll be back with 'young, numb and brunette' after this short break!!

y/nl/n My old man said I had to be in Shangai this weekend 🫡 but trust- I will be back to piss y'all off with Eddie asap

edwrdnotcllen MY WIFE HAS LEFT ME FOR A TWINK HELP y/nl/n shut up Eddie your the twinkiest twink I know username I love that they have had multiple partners in the past yet still always call each other husband and wife username I pity her boyfriend 😭 imagine having to compete with a man who looks like Edward

username SHES GOING TO A RACE????

username nooooo pls my parents

username girl they have never dated, both y/n and Edward have had multiple partners and relationships with men and women in the past. Leave them alone, they're adults username FOUND Y/N'S BFS ALT GUYS!!!

"She's coming to China?" Max asked no one in particular but Lando took it as an invitation to freak out.

"Bro please, please, please let me win this one, I'll owe you forever, bro please," Lando tried his puppy eyes on Max but Max jumped out of bed calling his girlfriend, walking out the room trying his best to convince the older woman to not attend the race.

"I have so much work to do," Lando gasped and followed Max out the room.

The race was one to remember, with Max winning but George a close second and Lando barely a tenth away on the third.

He hadn't been able to find the girl anywhere but at least he got points for the team. He went to the McLaren team party and forgot about the other celebration taking place.

xoxof1

xoxof1 The unexpected couple have been revealed in a series of leaked pictures of the private f1 party after the driver George Russell had a podium finish for his Shangai race.

username Mr.Russell I was unaware of your rizz, forgive me sir.

username WHITE MAN DOES IT IN ONE DAY 😭😭😭

landonorris When i catch you george when I catch you

username LANDO??? username he's one of ussssss username bbg you get me 😮‍💨 in ways no man ever has

George woke up with the worst headache he ever had in his life, he was sure he'd never get over this hangover but then he saw y/n next to him, hair tussled wearing the white shirt he was wearing last night.

"Y/n, darling, wake up," he pressed a kiss on her shoulder.

"mmhm," the woman groaned, turning to the blonde next to her and kissing him, the taste of vodka still fresh in her mouth.

She melted into his touch as he deepened the kiss, " Mornin' G," she whispered to him, voice hoarse from the night before.

He smiled in return, placing one last kiss on the corner of her lips. She searched around for her phone, finding it fallen amongst their haphazardly discarded clothes and opened Instagram to thousands of notifications.

She was used to it by now, it was quite fun.

y/nl/n

y/nl/n If I speak... @/georgerussell

edwrdnotcllen @/yn/ln you are so welcome for not squealing as soon as I knew

y/nl/n girl you asked me if you could kiss him after??? edwrdnotcllen And I still am?? username WHAT-

username I just know Lando is fuming rn

username y'all need a third? a dog? a maid?

username it should be me instead of him!!!

username god I see what you've done for others 😭

"Darling, did you post-" George had just begun but his room was rudely broken into, running in he saw a hyper papaya-coloured blur followed by a very hungover Max Verstappen.

Lando gasped looking at the woman next to George, screeching at an inhuman pitch, "HOW'D THIS PIECE OF VANILLA FRAPPUCCINO WOO HER??!?!?" He pointed at Y/n, making the woman laugh.

George offended, scoffed at the boy, "Well if you must know, I met her at Nando's party-" he was cut off once again, this time by the Dutch man.

"That makes sense actually," he said and immediately grabbed Lando by the collar and dragged him out, "Sorry guys!" he yelled after himself.

"I like your friends," Y/n said smirking making the taller man blush and push the woman slightly, before collapsing back into bed, making a silent promise of never trying to out-drink the woman again.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Happy Valentine's Day, Javier Peña

Summary: You've never been the biggest fan of Valentine's Day. But when you and Javi celebrate it for the first time together, he goes out of his way to make sure it's everything you want and more.

Pairing: Fiancé!Javier Peña x F!Reader (Reader's nickname is Osita, no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't do that pls), face sitting, oral (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (it's me), PREMATURE EJACULATION, cumming untouched, subby Javi (he is no better than a teenage boy and can barley keep it together bc he is so obsessed with you AH), Javi picks you up to carry you, Javi being a hopeless romantic, sweet, cute fluff bc I said so

A/N: HEYOOOO. It's me, back with our favorite menace couple 🤪 You know damn well Javi goes all out for Valentine's Day, bc Javier Peña is a man in LOVE and the world's biggest softie (I will not be taking counter arguments, it's fact). So in love, in fact, that sometimes, things are finished before they're even started!!! Happy Valentine's Day, Y'all!! 🫣💕 Unbeta'd bc my body won't let me sleep and I'm too exhausted to edit

Can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

You hated Valentine’s Day. 

Well… Hate was a strong word, but it was the only word strong enough to try and convince Javi that the last thing he needed to worry about doing was going all out for you on a Wednesday in the middle of February. Because for a very long time, all Valentine’s day was for you was just that- another day in the middle of winter. 

For as long as you could remember, you had either spent Valentine’s day alone, wishing you had someone special to share it with, or the person you were sharing it with really didn’t give a shit about you, bought you some chocolate and flowers to cover their ass and called it a day. Your most recent ex had been kind enough to follow your request about not making the holiday anything special by forgetting about it completely and ditching you to go to a hockey game with his friends and then drunkenly calling you to come pick him up that night. 

It was safe to say that Valentine’s day really didn’t mean much to you at all, or at least you thought it wouldn’t, until you’d met Javier Peña- A man who had quite literally bumped into you and proceeded to change the course of your life for the better and found yourself falling head over heels for, so much so, that it didn’t take you long to realize there was no one else that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with than him- leaving your first Valentine’s day together also the first time celebrating the holiday with your fiancé, now that the two of you had gotten engaged. It also meant your first of many years of having to convince Javi that he really didn’t need to do anything special for you to celebrate, and that just getting to spend time with him was more than enough for you. 

Unfortunately, it was not good enough for Javi. 

“Baby, I’m being serious, I promise I do not care. I would be happy if all we did was got pizza and watched TV together. All I wanna do for Valentine’s Day is just spend time with you. I don’t need a random weekday in February for you to prove that you love me, I think you’ve already proven that, Jav.” You laughed, pausing from washing dishes to pull your left hand out of the kitchen sink to point to the engagement ring on your finger. You found yourself now laughing even harder at Javi’s audible sigh as he snuck behind you, flushing his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, practically feeling the weight of his signature puppy dog pout drooping on you. 

“I know, but it’s Valentine’s Day. I’m not gonna not do anything. And you deserve much more than pizza.” Javi sighed, pressing a kiss on your cheek, squeezing you in his grasp just a little tighter, making you giggle as he flipped you around to face him, caging you under his broad body against the kitchen counter. “You have to let me do something for you, Hermosa.” 

“I don’t know Jav, pizza does sound really good. You really think you’re gonna be able to top pizza?” You teased, raising your eyebrow at him and sporting a sarcastic smirk as he rolled his eyes at you. 

“Oh shut up, you dork. Seriously, Osita. I totally get if you don’t wanna do anything big, but, I am not doing nothing for my beautiful fiancé on Valentine’s Day. You deserve it. How about this? If you don’t wanna go out, then I am making us reservations here at Restaurant Peña.” 

“Oh, Restaurant Peña? They must be new around here, never heard of them before. Does the chef take requests?” You smirked, biting down on your lip to keep your goofy grin from growing between your cheeks, only giggling more as Javi leaned in to pepper ticklish kisses across your face. 

“Normally, no, but I have a feeling the chef can make an exception for you.

“Does the chef make pizza?” 

“The chef will make fucking pizza if you want pizza.” Javi laughed, rolling his eyes, tightening his grip around your waist, lifting you up and spinning you around in a fit of laughter before setting you down on top of the kitchen counter, slotting himself in the open space in between your legs and digging his fingers into your hips. “Whatever you want, baby, I’ll make it for you.” 

“You choose, Chef Peña. Surprise me.” 

“Hermosa, you hate surprises.” 

“Well, then whatever you’re making better be good.” You shrugged, cocking your head to the side with a smug grin. 

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that.” 

“Yeah, no shocker there. Seriously though, thank you, Javi. This is really sweet of you. You know you don’t-”

Cutting you off, Javi brought his lips to yours, cradling your jaw as he swallowed the rest of your sentence, making your heart flutter from the electric kiss your fiance had just given you to politely shut you up. 

“I know I don’t. But I want to. Te amo, tozuda (I love you, stubborn).” 

“I love you too, pendejo (jerk). Now help me down, I have dishes to finish and a menu to plan for Laredo’s newest top chef.” 

As you pulled up to the parking lot of your apartment, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see that Javi had already beat you home to get a head start on your Valentine’s Day dinner, laughing to yourself in disbelief, wondering how you had gotten so lucky that you had found someone that genuinely cared this much about making something so special just for you. 

As you fumbled for your keys and pushed open your front door, you saw your apartment was dimly lit, candles scattered around the living room and kitchen, the shadows of the flames flickering and dancing along the walls. You could hear soft music and pans sizzling in the kitchen, along with the sweet humming of Javi’s voice. You closed the door behind you, taking a few more shocked steps into the living room before Javi noticed your presence. 

He grinned, quickly setting down what he was working and wiping his hands on the towel he had tucked in his waistband while he was cooking before coming over to cup your face for a long, sweet kiss that made your heart race, leaving you speechless.  

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mi amor.” He cooed, now pulling away from his embrace to reach behind you for the bouquet of daisies that had been hiding on the entryway table, handing them over to you with another peck on the cheek. 

“Javi, these are, baby, these are beautiful. Did you- you left work early just to do all this?”  You grinned, burying your nose in the flowers before looking around the living room to admire the setup Javi had prepared for the two of you, finally meeting his soft, sweet gaze staring down at you. 

“Maybe. You’re Restaurant Peña’s first customer, wanted to make a good impression. Speaking of which, dinner is almost done, and as much as I would love to do nothing but stand here and kiss you, the chef doesn’t want to be the first meal he serves to be burned to a crisp.” 

“Well in that case,” You paused, giggling as you pressed up on your tiptoes to press a kiss onto his plush lips, “I better go change for this classy event. Can’t wait to see what the chef has in store.” 

Handing your flowers back to Javi, you set down the rest of your things from work, and quickly scampered back towards your bedroom, peeking back out of the doorway to shoot Javi a quick wink, making him quietly laugh to himself as he ran his hand over the back of his neck, shaking his head, trying to hide the completely lovestruck smirk plastered all over his face before heading back to the kitchen. 

Gently closing the door behind you, your face mirrored Javi’s, heat creeping through your cheeks, grinning to yourself as you made your way to your dresser, starting to shuffle through your top drawer, looking for personal Valentine’s Day gift for your fiancé that had been hidden away under your folded piles of socks and underwear. 

After digging for a few moments, you felt the lacy texture running through your fingers, pulling out the new lingerie set you had bought a few days ago to surprise Javi with. You quickly shimmied out of your work clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket next to your bed before slipping the delicate fabric over your body. Although this wasn't the first time you had surprised Javi with an outfit like this, you’d never get over his awestruck reaction, watching his eyes grow wide with his hungry gaze, ravishing in every inch of you, barley keeping himself together enough even remain coherent as you revealed yourself to him. 

Giving yourself a once over in the mirror, you pulled one of your nicer, fitted black dresses out of your closet, hiding the matching red bra and thong held up by the lacy garters around your thighs, quickly touching up your hair and makeup from your long work day before making your way back out into the kitchen to greet Javi, back turned to you as he picked up two plates off the counter to bring to the table, nearly dropping them in the process as he turned around to see you standing in front of him. 

“Fuck me…” He muttered under his breath, his jaw nearly dropping as he gave you another once over after looking you up and down, having to shake his head to snap himself back to reality, having enough sense to set his plates full of food down on the table before they ended up on the floor. “Baby, you look- fuck, you look fucking stunning.” 

“I heard Restaurant Peña’s a nice place, figured I should dress for the occasion. Plus,” You smirked, taking the few steps to close the space between you and Javi, draping your arms over his shoulders and pressing up on your tiptoes to giggle in his ear, “I heard the chef here is really sexy. I’m really hoping that he’s free after dinner so I can treat him to some dessert.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ… Hermosa, if you keep talking like that, we’re not gonna make it to dinner.” Javi groaned, biting down on his lip as he looked down at your mischievous grin, letting out another deep breath as his hands traveled down the curves of your waist, reaching around to grab a handful of your ass, kneading it over the fitted fabric covering it. “Fuck… can we just skip dinner and go straight to des-” 

“Javi! No! You made me this whole delicious meal, I am not letting you skip this because you can’t keep it in your pants, mister.” You teased, giving Javi a playful nudge, taking a step back to cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him to tease him, even you knew damn well you would have been more than happy to give in to Javi’s plan, but the gurgle in your stomach and the inkling you were going to need some energy for the night ahead gave you enough logic to at least have some rational thinking left in your brain. 

“Fine…” Javi sighed, holding up his hands in defense, laughing at your sassy remark, stepping back to the table to put both your plates in their rightful spots before making his way over to your chair to pull it out for you, leaning down to whisper in your ear as you sat down, the hot breath of his words dancing across your neck as he spoke. “Can you blame me when you look like this? You keep fucking teasing me like that, Hermosa, and dessert’s about to get very interesting.” 

You could feel the rasp of his voice shoot straight to your core, your thighs instinctively clenching together to try to keep the ache growing between your legs at bay, letting the softest moan escape from your lips, using every ounce of brain power you had left to try and conjure up some sort of response. 

“Yeah? Is that a threat or a promise?” 

“Depends, which one do you want it to be?” 

“Whatever the chef wants.” 

Although the dinner that Javi had cooked was absolutely delicious, after adding a few glasses of wine during your meal to the already thick and palpable sexual tension in your kitchen was not helping either of your causes, the two of you probably rushing through eating much faster than you had intended to when the night had begun. 

Taking the final sips left in your glass and watching the last bits of your plate cleared, all your inhibitions had been thrown out the window, giving Javi longing look as you stood up out of your chair, pushing in your seat and slowly slinking your way over to Javi, lifting your leg over his lap as you straddled him in his spot, your hands slowly running up and down his chest, toying with the buttons of his dress shirt and carefully unbuttoning button by button as you nipped at his ear. 

“So, are you ready for dessert? I think I have a treat for you that you’re gonna like.” You rasped, trailing kisses across his neck and jaw, your lips meeting his in an electric passion, catching the muffled moan escaping his mouth as you began swirling your hips feeling the bulge beginning to grow in his pants. 

“Fuck… Yeah? You gonna tell me what it is, huh, Hermosa?” Javi groaned, his hands wrapping around your waist, fingers digging into your hips, pressing you down further into his crotch, making you whine as you felt his hard length beneath you rubbing against you, only fueling the fire burning in your stomach and the wet patch growing in your underwear. 

“Why don’t you take me to the bedroom and find out.” 

You could barley finish your sentence before Javi was tightening his grip around you, standing up out of the chair to lift you up as he stood, carrying you to the bedroom as you stumbled down the hallway, becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth as the back of Javi’s knees finally hit the bed, situating you back in his lap. His hands roamed relentlessly over your body, letting his hands creep up your thighs, pushing up your dress high enough to stop in his tracks as he felt the lace of your garter band, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the realization of what treat you had to offer for him. 

“Oh fuck… Baby, are you- what do you have on under here?” He asked, breathlessly, very clearly knowing the answer before he had even asked the question, his hands now pushing further up your legs, his fingers dancing across the delicate waistband of your thong as he looked up at you with his pleading brown eyes, now growing darker and darker with lust. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javi.” You mewled, reaching behind you to unzip the back of your dress, letting it fall of your shoulders and reveal the red bustier underneath, the floral, lacy pattern leaving very little to the imagination, and leaving Javi’s jaw to practically drop to the floor as you showed off your hidden outfit. 

“Osita… Fuck… This all for me, sweet girl? Jesus Christ.” he practically whispered to himself in disbelief, soaking in every inch of you as you stepped of back off his lap to let your dress fall to the floor, unveiling your lingerie in its entirety in front of him. Letting his elbows rest on his knees, he brought his hand over his mouth, gaping open in awe, soon balling his hand into a fist and biting down on his knuckle as you slowly turned around in a circle, showing off all angles of yourself before meeting Javi’s gaze again, smirking to yourself at the incomprehensible mess your fiance had become. 

“You like it?” You giggled, raising a knowing eyebrow at Javi as you stepped back towards him, running your hands up his strong thighs hanging over the edge of the bed, letting your fingers barley brush over the undeniable tent in his pants, teasing at his belt buckle before dragging your hands back down, resting on his knees. 

“Y-yeah, I- yeah, fuck.” Javi gulped, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed, trying to find a way to string together a coherent sentence as you let your fingers trace over his legs and crotch, melting into a puddle under your touch. 

“Yeah? I had a feeling.” You smirked, now palming at the bulge in his pants more firmly, eliciting another audible moan from Javi, his breath becoming heavy and shaky as you sat yourself back over his lap, your ass resting perfectly on top of his erection as you began to slowly swirl your hips over his. Your hands worked their way down the rest of the buttons of his shirt, creeping between the parted fabric to rest your hands on his bare chest, nestling your face in the crook of his neck as you sucked at his pulse point, whispering against his skin. “You gonna be a good boy and let me take care of you, baby?” 

There were few times in his life where Javier Peña had found himself at a complete loss for words, but you had him wrapped around your finger as you sat in his lap, all dressed up just for him, whispering sweet praises in his ear did something to him that even he couldn’t quite comprehend. Truth be told, the only thought he could process right now was the all too familiar clench in his stomach and tightening in his balls leaving him on the verge of busting in his pants before you had even touched him. 

Scrunching his face in concentration, Javi nodded rapidly as his hands dug a bruising grip into your hips, every grind of your ass against his crotch only tightening the undeniable knot in his gut. Javi was convinced he’d be strong enough to keep it in check, as long he could use every ounce of his being to focus on not falling apart. But that was before you decided to fight dirty and press every button you knew to make Javi absolutely crumble. 

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me, baby. You want me to touch you, Javi? Let me make you feel good, sweet boy.” You cooed, nipping at his ear as your hands ran through the thick, dark curls of his hair before sliding down the width of his broad shoulders, sliding his shirt down his arms and gripping around his biceps as you sunk your hips deeper and deeper into his lap. 

Before he even had time to process what was happening, Javi found himself instinctively bucking his hips up into you, holding on to you for dear life as he let out an absolutely wrecked moan, slumping his head into your shoulder as you felt a warm, wet sensation begin to spread below you. 

“Fuck… Fuck me…” He whispered, silently cursing himself over his shallow breathing, making you pause in confusion as you looked down at Javi, taking a moment to quickly piece together in your brain what had just happened. 

Javi had just cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. 

“Javi…Javi, did you just-” 

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m- I’m sorry. Fuck me.” Javi grimaced, running his hand over his face, tilting his head back up towards the ceiling, his cheeks turning red in pained embarrassment, not even able to bring himself to make eye contact with you until you brought your hand under his cheek, gently cupping his jaw and forcing his gaze onto you, locking his lips in an intense kiss before either of you had the chance to speak. 

“Well, that’s a first.” You giggled, trying your best to lighten Javi’s clearly distraught mood, feeling his pouty frown through your kiss. “Javi, it’s okay, we can just- Oh!” 

Before you could finish your sentence, Javi’s back was to the bed, dragging your body across his chest until you were straddling just below his shoulders, his hands digging into your ass and pulling you closer towards him. 

“Nuh uh. I just need a few. Lemme make you feel good, baby. Please. Fuck, I’m sorry, you’re just so fucking sexy, I couldn’t help myself. Let me make it up to you, please, Osita.” 

It wasn’t very often that you found yourself like this- you being the one who turned Javi into a whimpering and babbling mess, begging for forgiveness. And even though it was a position you found yourself in often, you very well knew that you were going to take advantage of every last second. 

“Oh yeah? And how are you planning on making it up to me, Javi?” You cooed, cocking your head to the side apathetically, arms crossed over your chest as you sat straddling Javi’s. 

“Sit on my face, baby, please. Fuck, I’ll make you cum as many times as you want. I wanna taste you so bad.” Javi moaned, his sweet, brown eyes pleading with you for just a taste of the arousal that had been steadily pooling between your legs. 

“Yeah?” You paused, leaning down to capture his mouth in a passionate kiss, your teeth tugging at his plush bottom lip as you pulled away to nip at his jaw, “and what if I still want you to fill me up after you’re done? What if I need you to fuck me full of you?” 

“Jesus fuck…” Javi groaned under his shallow breathing, “I’ll give you whatever you want, Hermosa. I promise.” 

“Good boy.” You mewled, running your hands through the sweat-dampened curls of his hair before shuffling your body so your lace covered and soaking heat was hovering over Javi’s face. You began to slowly lower yourself down, Javi’s fingertips gripping the flesh of your hips, forcing you to shift your weight onto him, making you moan as you felt his strong nose brush against your clit, nudging your panties out of the way. You could feel the width of his tongue dragging along your cunt, slowly and deliberately working himself along your sensitive bundle of nerves. His face nestled between your legs, he took his time with each lick, taking extra time to press harder on the spots he knew made you weak, loving how wrecked he could tell you already were as you rolled your hips over his face. You could practically feel his smirk buried in your pussy as the movements of his tongue became more precise, flicking at your clit making you whimper as you braced your hands by burying them in his hair, tugging at the ends of his thick curls. 

“Javi… Fuck, oh my god.” You cried, feeling the tension begin to build in your belly as Javi wrapped his plush lips around your mound, sucking feverishly as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding down harder, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your thighs. You could feel him hum in approval against your cunt as your back began to arch, a familiar tingle growing at the base of your spine as his mouth latched firmer around your clit, desperate to make you come undone. 

“Fuck, baby- oh shit- Javi, don’t stop, fuck, fuck, I’m so close. Fuck, I’m- mhhhmmmmmm.” Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning. Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning Javi’s name as he dug his fingers deeper into your flesh, holding you against him as he continued to work you through your high. 

Dipping his tongue into your hole, his muscle plunged into your cunt, drinking up your arousal while the bridge of his nose brushed against your clit, making good on his promise to redeem himself from earlier, not letting up until he felt your body tense and legs begin to shake as you came again, feeling about as sturdy as a pile of jello at this point. 

Your body went slack, draping your upper half over Javi’s body as you felt his face free from out from under you, looking down to see his face glistening in your slick, accompanied by a boyish grin and pleading eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and gazing back up at you. 

You had caught your breath enough to sit yourself back up, looking over your shoulder to see the bulge in Javi’s pants was back in full force, slowly scooting your way down his chest and stomach to sit yourself back on his lap, grinding your hips in his, circling slowly over his painfully hard bulge, digging deeper and deeper with each sway of your hips. You slid your hands up his chest, into his hair, gently tugging at his dark curls as you rocked against him. You could tell how hard Javi was trying to control himself, breathing heavily and clenching his jaw as he watched you, the moans escaping from his mouth only becoming louder as you began to gently tug at the straps of your bra, letting them fall from your shoulders, teasing him even further. 

“You think you’re ready for me, baby? You’re gonna be a good boy and fill me up like you promised? You smirked, slipping your hands behind your back, you unclasped the hooks holding your top together, letting it drop to the floor and leave your top completely bare. 

“Promise.” He sighed, voice trembling, feeling the muscles in his body tense with your question.  

“Good.” You smirked, “Gotta ask nicely, though.” 

“Osita, please, baby, fuck- please.” Javi whined, his voice ragged and wanting as his brown eyes met with yours, watching you crawl up over him, your hands now working at his belt buckle. The metal clinked as you pushed his pants down his hips before ever so gently tugging at the waistband of his boxers, already tented from his stiffness.

“Please, what, sweet boy?” You cooed, pulling just enough to let his cock spring free, revealing how painfully hard he was, his tip dark red and leaking with precum that had left additional stains on his boxers, mixing with his premature spend from earlier. 

“Hermosa, please. Please, baby. I need you to fuck me, please.” Javi whimpered as you settled yourself on top of his legs, your hands now creeping towards his shaft. 

“That’s better. So handsome when you beg. Need me to take care of you? I’ll take care of you, baby.” You wrapped your hand around his cock, thumbing at the precum dripping out of his tip and rubbing it around his head before taking the same hand and running it through your folds, collecting the arousal that had been rapidly pooling between your legs and using the mixture to stroke him. 

With his shaft sufficiently slick, the both of you gasped as you sunk down on Javi’s length, his cock bumping against your cervix as you took every inch of him inside you, taking a moment to adjust to the sweet sting of his fullness. “Fuck, you feel so good, Javi. I love feeling you inside me. Can’t wait to feel you dripping down my thighs. Gonna keep me full of you all night.” 

The groan Javi let out was low and deep, feeling your hands rest against his chest as your hips rolled back and forth, burying Javi’s cock deep inside the warm, wet walls of your cunt. The hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbed deliciously on your clit, the sensation of that, combined with how frantically you were rocking your hips back and forth had your heart racing, so worked up from trying to keep your cool that you could feel the tingle building at the base of your spine rapidly. 

“I will. Please let me, I will. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Fuck, I wanna cum so deep in you, please, Osita. Please, baby.” 

You could tell Javi was close, too- The gritting of his teeth, the wild and wanting look in his sweet brown eyes, the sloppy pace of his dick pounding into you, all the tells you knew far too well to realize he was quickly about to come undone again. The arousal pooling in your belly continued to build, the lewd noises of your wetness and mixed moans coating the walls of your bedroom as your fingers dug into the skin of Javi’s chest.

“Fuck, fuck- I love you, Javi. Holy shit- I’m so close. I need you to fill me up, baby.” 

“I love you too, Hermosa. I’m not gonna last much longer either, so fucking wet and tight, oh my god- I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby. I promise, promise I’ll be a good boy and fuck every last drop in you.” 

It wasn’t often that you had seen Javi turn into such a mess, watching him whimper and beg to with such desperation and neediness, barely hanging on by a thread from the moment you had crossed the threshold of your bedroom, and holy shit, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. Javi had already cum once without you even touching him, and now, he was so worked up he was teetering on the brink of falling apart again. 

In a frantic desperation, Javi sat himself up, caging your chest against his, wrapping his arms around your back as he held you in his lap, his face buried in the crook of your neck, sweaty curls of his hair resting against your shoulder, while he fucked up into you, each thrust becoming reckless than the last.  

“Oh fuck, Javi, fuck, don’t stop- fuck, fuck, I’m gonn-ahhhhh” 

The coil building in your belly snapped, screaming Javi’s name over and over again as your cunt clenched around his cock, feeling your orgasm flood your body with pleasure. You braced your hands on Javi’s chest as you felt your body go numb, euphoria flowing through your veins while Javi fucked you through your high, quickly chasing his own. 

“That’s it baby. Fuck, Mierda- God, you’re so fucking perfect. Tu eres mio para siempre. Mi amor, mi vida, fuck, te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir. (You’re mine forever. My love, my life, fuck, I love you more than words can say). Jesus, fuck- Oh fuck, Osita, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, I-” Javi quickly followed behind you, thrusting a few more times up into you before letting out a low, ragged groan as he spilled deep inside your pussy, his warm spend coating your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop, as promised. You could feel the mixture of the both of you leaking down your legs into Javi’s lap as you sat on top of him, his dick still pulsing as your chests heaved in sync, squeezing your eyes tightly to try and bring yourself back to earth. 

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi muttered under his breath, his body still slumped into yours until you began running your fingers through his hair, prompting him to look back up at you, the blissed out grins on both your faces making you let out a quiet laugh of surprised disbelief at what had just happened. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javier Pena.” You giggled, cupping his face, tilting it up towards yours and locking his lips in a long and tender kiss. 

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day, baby. Fuck, that was hot. Sorry, uh- sorry about earlier.” He sighed sheepishly, gesturing over to the very thoroughly stained pair of pants now lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. 

“It’s okay. Definitely a good confidence booster if me putting some lingerie on for you is enough to make you blow your load faster than a middle school boy.” You snickered, giving Javi a playful nudge as he rolled his eyes at you, letting out a little sigh. 

“Shut up. You have no fucking idea. God, you’re so fucking sexy, you know that? I can’t believe you get to be my Valentine for the rest of my life. I’m a lucky fucking man, I’ll tell you that much.” 

“I could say the same, handsome. I love you, Javi. Alright, what do you say we go clean up so we can have real dessert. I have a whole plate full of cookies left over from our class party, along with some very questionable candy from several 3rd graders.” 

“Sounds like the perfect plan to me.”

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @pedr0swh0r3

[autumn-hiraeth]

Rockabye!

Hobie brown x reader

angst but not enough. First part.

NEXT PART

a/n: so many people asked for a second part. So i hope y'all like it! ( loved all the comments lol). Part 3? Gimme ideas pls

Find more here “ Hobie's masterlist 🕷”

You knew that being with someone like Hobie Brown would change your life completely and you weren't wrong. It's been three years since you saw him, three years since Hobie not only broke your heart but also got you pregnant (how thoughtfu of him). You found out you were pregnant a month later and it felt so bad 'cause Hobie obviously didn't feel nothing for you. At first you thought he was just busy but soon you got the message; he was not coming back.

So all on your own, you move in, and do what you have to do to make sure your little girl grow up well and has a good life.

Your daughter has some of your features, but she's a mini Hobie Brown. So you try to stay away from him, however he's fucking Spider Punk, if he really wanted to know about you he would have already found you. :( Never mind, he would make a terrible father. You think.

But one unexpected day, Hobie Brown meets your daughter. His daughter. Hobie is panting hard, trying to save people 'til suddenly his spider-sense kicks in and his heart races 'cause he's never felt like this before.

Then he sees a little girl crying, her parents aren't around and no matter how hurt he is, he doesn't hesitate to swing her out of the danger. He looks at the little girl and is shocked 'cause the kid , who is still sobbing, is exactly like him. She takes after him.

So Hobie tries to calm her down, he's cradling her in his arms, not taking his eyes off her as he murmurs "don't cry, little girl"

Hobie knows he should be helping other people, but he can't, the kid looks so much like him that he doesn't want to leave her alone, he doesn't want anything bad to happen to her.

However, Hobie scoffs at his thought, of course the kid doesn't look like him, he's just tired. And when Hobie finally manages to calm the kid down, he hears a familiar voice. "Rhea! Oh thank god you're fine!" you are in front of him crying, in a frantic state and you don't even seem to realize that your daughter is being held by Spider Punk, her father, no, instead you take her off his arms while you sob happy to have found her safe and sound.

But Hobie is frozen watching the scene; you, the love of her life, whom he abandoned three years ago, holding your daughter while you kiss her cheeks in relief and his heartbeat races 'cause Hobie suddenly seems to figure out why the kid looks like him... It is her daughter. He's dad. "Y/n..." as soon as you hear his voice you hug your daughter as a defense mechanism.

“I gotta go” your voice sounds more serious and your look makes him feel guilty instantly. "Fine, I'll take you two home" he suggests and you frown because you can't believe he has the audacity to just act like everything ended well between the two of you.

"no way, I don't need your help" you are being cold and Hobie understands that; he understands that you hate him 'cause he abandoned you; he abandoned his pregnant girl; the thought of everything you had to go through to take care of his, your, daughter, burns deep inside him.

'cause if he had only stayed then now you and Hobie would be a family and he knows he would be a good father. Yes, being a father is a thought he never had but now, he knows that he would make a good father even a good husband.

"Y/n please" he pleads, he wants to talk, apologize and meet the kid, tell you that he's still loving you, but you don't care what Hobie wants so you pick up your daughter, who hides her face in the crook of your neck. "Stay away Hobart" you tell him and Hobie lets you go, for now.

But you two know that they'll see each other again, 'cause Hobie knows that he has a daughter with you.

[starrynights-sunnyskies]

as the flowers bloom, my heart does too ⋆*·ﾟmisa x putellas!femreader, social media au, (6/-)

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when your relationship ends and all you want to do is hide and cry, flowers suddenly start to appear on your doorstep.

or; misa hating to see a pretty girl cry and suffer and going out of her way to cheer her up while staying anonymous

fic: see my masterlist 🤍

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albaps9: las mujeres más importantes de mi vida. mama, ale y mi chiquita ynn 💘 (pretend you're on here pls 😭) Liked by yourusername, alexiaputellas, marialeonn16 and 703 others

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yourusername 🙈 ↳ yourusername wait, you forgot la nala la mala ↳ alexiaputellas I was about to say! 😝 ↳ yourusername wouldn't be the first time she forgot🤭 ↳ alexiaputellas What do you mean??? ↳ albaps6 sigh i can never do something cute for you guys ↳ albaps6 yn shut the fuck up or i'll tell mami and ale about what happened on your birthday 😴 ↳ yourusername i'll put your moncler blouse on vinted if you do that ↳ albaps6 YOU have it??!!! i looked for that fucking thing everywhere ↳ yourusername 🤩 ↳ alexiaputellas I love you two crazies. liked by yourusername and albaps6 ↳ alexiaputellas But what exactly happened on your birthday? 😟 ↳ yourusername well duh, i turned a year older! liked by albaps6

marialeonn16 And still Yn is my favourite putellas 🤪 ↳ yourusername i like you

bff1 my second family!! 😍 ↳ albaps6 yeah you're the deranged cousin liked by yourusername

alexiaputellas My entire world in one picture 😊 ↳ albaps6 minus nala 🤣 ↳ yourusername wtf what about your girlfriend?????? ↳ alexiaputellas She's my entire universe. liked by yourusername ↳ albaps6 🤢

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marisabel_rguez: What's up? 🧤 Liked by sofie.svava, marialeonn16, bff3 and 12,377 other

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yourusername the sky ↳ bff1 i was just about to say that 😭 ↳ bff2 our friend group has four braincells in total, you both sometimes have none of those ↳ bff3 @/bff2 I wholeheartedly think you should give the two of us a little more credit than having only four? ↳ username1 oh hey y'all 🤔

yourusername i love seeing you in dark blue 😍 liked by marisabel_rguez ↳ yourusername oh and i'd say break a leg for the next match, but pls don't ): ↳ marisabel_rguez Everything better than your heart. This comment is no longer available ↳ bff1 yikes no, break her bed instead. This comment is no longer available

jennihermoso Siiiiii

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Text Message

m 💌 And aaaah you know what I love to see you in? Black! (or nothing) 😊 you somehow i knew this crossed your mind the second i commented m 💌 We know each other too well now, jajaja. you quick! think fast! what word am i thinking of? m 💌 Daisies? you ohhh valid, one of my favourites! m 💌 I know. you but no, cannoli of course m 💌 🙃😉🙂 you misa i will actually slap you m 💌 I'm stronger you i'm scrappy and grew up fighting with alba m 💌 Fair 😅 m 💌 I'm glad she forgave us faster than Alexia did. She's scary. you yea she looks all bark and no bite but she BITES. literally. still have a scar on my finger. m 💌 I need you to tell me that story one day. m 💌 So, do you bite too? Because I might be into that. you i think that you should know such things as my girlfriend 👋 m 💌 Aha... well, don't blame me. If we'd lived together I would have known 'such things' and more. you 😔 m 💌 I know. I miss you too. I wish we could live together though. you my work's here, love. i can't leave. and i don't think i can be without my family and friends just yet. i need them close. and you'll be busy all day and i know no one in madrid. m 💌 I know, I would never ask that of you. I just wish I could be around you more. Maybe I'm greedy or dramatic. I don't know. m 💌 I'll take the train to Barcalona as soon as I can. you no, my love. you already travel and work too much. i don't want you straining your mind and body, you have to take care of it. and you were here last time. i'll come when i can. m 💌 Alright, I know there's no talking you out of it, is there? you nope 😘 m 💌 Promise I'll see you soon? you promise! you i've got to run now. you better wear something dark blue next time i see you, byeeeee, i love you. m 💌 You better wear black or maybe just don't wear anything at all. Bye, querida, I love you more.

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yourusername: missing you 🌼🖤 Liked by marisabel_rguez, sofie.svava, ingridengen and 7,328 others

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bff2 amorrrrrr 🤗

sofie.svava a literal angel!! inside and out <3

janafernandez3 😍

alexiaputellas Muy guapa, laelia 💘

username1 Okay does that mean the anonymous flower sender has been you-know-who all this time? ↳ username2 WHAT, i'd almost forgotten about that! omfg! probably!! ↳ username3 what use does voldemort have buying flowers when he can't smell them

ingridengen Muy bonita 😚

liekemartens Liefie!!

salmaparalluelo The flowers!!?? ↳ yourusername 😇 ↳ ona.battle TELL US

username3 Okay 🔥

albaps9 hotshot 😎

username4 You? Who's you, ma'am?

marisabel_rguez Wearing black? ↳ yourusername yea, i was told i look good in it! ↳ marisabel_rguez Si, pero.... ↳ yourusername 🤫

bff1 ☺️

marialeonn16 My tiny laeliaaa 😊

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albaps9: hola, espwnt's biggest fans have touched down! (ft olga & yn 😗✌️) Liked by alexiaputellas, marisabel_rguez, jennihermoso and 783 others

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yourusername i'm still mad you stole my window seat ↳ albaps9 my luggage was lost for a day, so who wins?

marisabel_rguez 🤗🤝

marialeonn16 Missing you all!

alexiaputellas 🤩

alexiaputellas My favourite cheerleaders!

jennihermoso Oh great, now we'll definitely win with you clowns in the stands 😂 ↳ albaps9 😲 ↳ albaps9 be grateful we're here for you all!!!! ↳ alexiaputellas (They're only here for me, but sshh) liked by marisabel_rguez

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yourusername: 😊🇪🇸 Liked by alexiaputellas, liekemartens, marisabel_rguez and 4,398 others

liekemartens Next time we'll get you 😉🦁 ↳ yourusername you said that the last three times as well 🤭

marisabel_rguez Our good luck charm all day every day!

alexiaputellas My very own lucky charm since day one 🙂

albaps9 just a normal night of wag duties, hm? liked by 12 others

username1 lol ale and misa

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yourusername: 🖤 Liked by begovargas, alexiaputellas, sofie.svava and 1,293 others

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bff1 🖤 ↳ bff3 🖤 ↳ yourusername 🖤 ↳ bff2 🖤

begonavargas ily ❤️

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marisabel_rguez: Do you think it suits👔me? Liked by yourusername, haleyraso, bff2 and 16,352 others

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username1 the dad joke? no. the suit? HELL YES.

username2 🤤

username3 OOOOOh!!!

yourusername joooooder, dios mio! what the fuck!! This comment is no longer available ↳ yourusername WHY am i seeing this NOW? This comment is no longer available ↳ yourusername hostia puta, que es esto misa??? oye?? diga me! This comment is no longer available ↳ albaps9 oh now you've done it, you broke her 🤣 @/marisabel_rguez

↳ yourusername mami chula??? 😩📞 This comment is no longer available liked by marisabel_rguez ↳ alexiaputellas Callate, dios mio! You're embarrassing yourself. ↳ albaps9 you mean embarrassing you? 🤥 ↳ alexiaputellas Hmpf. Misa, I see that like. 🤨 liked by marisabel_rguez

username3 give me a gf who will drool over me like yn 😪

sofie.svava Looking gewd!

username4 Not Yn's fantasy coming to fruition 😂

username5 Yn's one moment away from saying i do lmaooo ↳ username6 At least Misa's already suited up 👀💍 ↳ username7 can you blame her??? ↳ username8 Looks like Alexia won, comments went ✨poof✨

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yourusername: recap of week 69 Liked by begovargas, albaps9, marisabel_rguez and 1,293 others

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albaps9 perdon?? como?? que???? 69-?? fucking hormonal teenager. what's up with you lately 🤣 ↳ albaps9 change the caption before ale sees it and the real fun starts

marisabel_rguez uuff 🤒

marisabel_rguez But don't lie...that was last week, no? ↳ yourusername oh yeah, whoopsies ↳ bff1 🕯escucha las palabras de las brujas de los secretos escondidos de la noche- 🕯

alexiaputellas The age I'll never reach because of the headaches you give me with captions and photos like these. ↳ yourusername disculpe 😇 ↳ alexiaputellas Sigh, you're happy, that's all that matters.

begovargas You cheek 🤣

janafernandez3 Prettyyyyy ✨

bff2 what was even the reason for that caption? 😆 ↳ bff3 It's time to buy a bigger freezer to put her in and help her cool down.

marialeonn16 How was the pizza? ↳ yourusername delish because it was made with love 😊

bff1 wiggle wiggle wiggle ↳ bff1 i still think my butt’s better

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↳ 5h ago: yourusername added to their story

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Direct Message

alexiaputellas Put your phone away, por favor YN. Safe travels, answer me when you get there and not earlier unless you need me ❤️

albaps9 vroom vroom go to your woman!!! 😊

marisabel_rguez Are you serious??? marisabel_rguez Wait if you left five hours ago, you'll be here so soon already?? marisabel_rguez Y/N!!! 😱 marisabel_rguez Fuck I love you so so so much, amor. marisabel_rguez And I love that sweater on you 😭 yourusername i know 😉 marisabel_rguez No, please don't text me until you're here, okay? I'd like to have you as my girlfriend for as long as I can. Be safe. Delivered.

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a/n: happy weekend everyone, here are some flowers to brighten your days! 🌼🌻🌸🌼🌻🌸🌼🌻🌸

[mxstellatayte]

fuck me up, florida.

warnings: angst for the majority of it, sex at the end though, legal use of alcohol (reader and logan are both 23,) mentions of gunshot wounds, minor character death, based on a taylor swift song, childhood (middle/high school) friends to lovers, idiots in love, "you came" "you called," reader is half mexican (mom's side), slightly inaccurate bc i know carola wasn't at the miami gp but just go with it for the plot, reader's last name is rodriguez,

author's note: y'all i apologize if any of the spanish grammar is a little weird. my spanish is rusty, pls don't hate me for it

logan sargeant x female reader

i need to forget so

tuesday, april 30th.

you scan your ticket, the screen displaying your name and seat number. 12A. at least it'll be easy to sleep, you think.

after shoving your suitcase above your seat, you shuffle your way to the window and buckle yourself in.

are you really doing this? flying a couple thousand miles to visit your childhood best friend who, up until recently, had you convinced that his newfound fame that he'd gathered by announcing his enrollment in the williams driver's academy made him too good for you.

the only thing that made you think otherwise was the instagram dm he'd sent you five weeks prior, asking if you'd be able to make it to the miami grand prix. instead of a simple yes or no, you responded with the heaviest three words you've ever seen in order.

can we call?

logan picked up on the second ring.

"hey."

"hey."

"how's texas?"

you smile. "hot. sunny. flat. beachless."

"so... it's good?" you hate that you can still picture his facial expressions even after not seeing him for years except for on tv.

"'s okay, but it's not home, y'know?"

"definitely. it doesn't matter how much i decorate my place in england, it's never florida."

"nothing besides florida is ever florida," you sigh, looking out the window of your apartment. "how's the season been?" you don't exactly know why you're asking. you know exactly how his season's gone. you keep every single detail of every single race weekend meticulously catalogued in a journal that you take everywhere with you. no matter what, you've stayed up late or woken up early to watch every race, as if your hopeful energy would make its way across the world to him in time.

"honestly? it's been pretty shit. the car handles really badly and wasn't really even ready for the first few hours of testing in bahrain. i can't get it to perform and maybe that's just because i haven't linked with the car yet, but it still really sucks."

you sigh, hoping logan can't tell how disappointed you are with his team and engineers. "you need a better team, lo."

"i know." there's silence between you for a few moments, and every second that passes makes it grow heavier on your chest. "will you come to miami?"

there it is. the reason you called him.

"i don't know, lo. don't get me wrong, i'd love to, but it's really short notice and i don't know if i could afford the trip. i might be able to make it to austin, but i'll need the time to save the money for the trip."

"i'll fly you out," logan immediately says, his tone almost desperate. longing. "i'll pay for your flight, your hotel, everything. please?"

that last word hit you like a punch in the gut. you only had one more reason to not go and you weren't about to tell him that reason. it was a shitty excuse anyways.

you're not about to tell him that the reason you moved to texas was to give him the space he needed to be able to succeed in his career and for you to succeed in yours.

take me to florida

you're jolted awake by the force of the plane landing, if you can call the awkward limbo you were stuck in sleep. immediately, your stomach twists with anxiety. logan had offered to pick you up from the airport, but you refused.

"i'll just take an uber," you'd said. "i'm gonna want to relax a bit after the flight, y'know?"

his only trade-off? you met him for dinner. simple enough, right?

in theory.

now, standing in front of the full-length mirror in your hotel room, you debate between a floral sundress and a pair of denim shorts, a tank top, and a white button-up t-shirt with a colorful inkblot pattern.

you decide on the sundress.

fifteen minutes later, you're pushing earrings through your piercings, silver abstract shapes you'd bought on a trip to europe with your mother. you have to leave, but the situation you're in sucks. your hair won't sit right on your head, either being too frizzy from the humidity or losing any and all volume, and your makeup just doesn't seem like it'll last in the miami heat.

fuck it.

who are you dressing for, anyways?

logan's seen you at your absolute worst. he was the only one you let yourself cry in front of after your father died. he was the one that held you for what seemed like hours while you sobbed into his chest and he told you that none of it was your fault- that you never could have known that, when you hugged him before he left for the police station, told him you loved him, and slipped a note into his lunch box, the next time you would see him, he would be laying in a casket. he was the only one that could make you smile in the weeks following his funeral, dropping his entire schedule if you simply sent him a text that said "can you come over?"

the restaurant logan found isn't too far from your hotel, so you ultimately decide to walk. your walk is over before you're able to process that it even started and you're taking out your earbuds and putting them in your bag, taking out your phone instead to text logan.

i'm here.

i've got some regrets

were you always this breathtakingly beautiful?

logan's phone buzzes in his front pocket, but he knows it's you texting him. he doesn't even bother taking it out of his pocket before standing up from his seat at the bar and walking over to you, and when you see him, your smile almost makes his heart melt.

"hey," he says, and he hopes his voice doesn't waver from how nervous he is.

"hey. i missed you," you respond, dodging the hand he holds out and going in for a hug. "i've known you since middle school, logan, i'm not shaking your hand."

your arms around him and your body pressed against his almost makes logan short circuit. thankfully, he's able to regain control of his brain and hug you back, hopefully before you realize he isn't hugging you back.

when you pull back, the hug seeming way too brief for logan's preference, you're looking up and smiling with a sparkle in your eyes that makes him regret not making enough time for you. "thanks for bringing me out here."

"thanks for coming. do you want a drink?"

"sure. do you have a table yet?"

"i was waiting for you."

"in that case, lead the way." you gesture towards the restaurant, and logan shows you to a booth in the corner. soon enough, a waiter comes over to you and sets down two glasses of water and two menus.

"welcome in, y'all. do we need a bit of time to look at the menu or do we know what we want to get started?" his southern drawl is thick, and it reminds you of texas. but you're in florida now.

"i think we'll look at the menu for a minute, thanks," logan says, and the waiter nods and walks away. as you open the menu and begin looking, logan points out something you might like and you do the same for him. conversation begins to flow freely between you, and it reminds you of the times in high school when you would go out with friends.

eventually, you decide on a plate of nachos and logan gets a plate of wings. as you wait for your food, you catch up on everything: your move to texas, logan's racing career, your work volunteering with the austin philharmonic, his homesickness from living in england, and everything in between. you crack stupid jokes, share bites of food, and steal sips of each other's drinks.

it's like old times.

i'll bury them in florida

on wednesday, you and logan drive up to visit your father's headstone. it's difficult. it's only the third time you've visited him since he was buried three years ago. the first time you visited him was a year after he died. even a year later, you still carried so much anger and hatred towards the doctors and nurses that were operating on him, trying desperately to save his life after two bullets hit him- one in his leg, one in his torso.

he died on the table.

the second time was just a few months after, and you were still wearing your cap, gown, and stole from your graduation ceremony. by then, you had been able to forgive the doctors and had graduated in the top 10% of your class. four years of hell had finally rewarded you with a degree in instrumental performance and an internship at the south florida symphony orchestra.

now, the third time, you have a picnic blanket and lunch packed into the backseat of logan's car, the windows are rolled down, and your favorite playlist is shuffled on the aux. it's a beautiful day, too; it isn't too hot (even with the humidity,) there's a gentle breeze in the air, and clouds occasionally cover the sun. when logan pulls into the parking lot of the cemetery and you sling your tote bag full of food over your shoulder, your hands start shaking.

of course, logan notices.

his hand slides into your own, and you look up at him. his eyes meet yours and you smile. "thank you for coming with me," you say.

"of course. i didn't want you to have to do this alone."

you look back at the gate into the cemetery, the black bars menacingly sleek and very, very terrifying. you chew your lower lip in anxiety. "i don't know if i can do it, logan."

"i'm here with you. i know you. you're strong. you aren't the kind of person to let a gate scare you." you laugh lightly, looking down at the ground. the gravel of the parking lot, your scuffed, beat-up high top purple converse, and logan's nike dunks make up what you have to describe as a perfect picture. your phone is in your free hand before you know it, and you're lining up the shot. "still into photography, huh?"

"yep. i have some cameras in my suitcase at the hotel." when you pocket your phone and look back up at him, logan's heart melts. the shine in your eyes and the passion in your smile is enough to soften anyone's heart, but for him, as someone who's known you for years and has been there for you through thick and thin, it touches him in such a special way. "i'm hoping to get some good photos of the races. but enough delaying. let's go visit my dad."

the creak of the gates opening makes your ears bleed, and you laugh at how logan is making the exact same face as you in reaction to such a shrill sound. despite only having visited his headstone twice before, you remember exactly where in the cemetery it is and are able to find it within five minutes.

"hi, dad," you begin, your voice already wavering just the slightest and tears beginning to well in your eyes. logan's hand squeezes yours, though, and you're reminded that he's right there. he always will be. you take a deep breath and continue. "i miss you. we all do. i know i haven't visited you in a while, and i'm sorry about that. i really do have to come stop by every now and then. i moved to austin and have a volunteering gig with the austin philharmonic at almost every show and i have a job at a company that helps students with learning disabilities learn instruments. it's really fun." you pause to wipe the tears off of your cheeks, your nose beginning to drip. "sam is in his junior year of college, and he's majoring in engineering. he flew the coop, but he still comes home for the summers. he, uh, he actually got in to c.u. boulder, like he always talked about. that kid was always thinking about college, even in middle school.

"i'm actually here with logan, too, if you hadn't noticed. do you, uh, do you want to fill him in on what's going on with you, or should i keep going?"

"whatever you prefer."

"okay, i'm going to keep talking, because i think if i don't, i'm going to completely break down. logan finally signed with williams to drive on their formula 1 team last year, like i always said he would. i'm really proud of him and really regret not telling him that more, and now that i'm saying it out loud i'm promising both you and him that i'll tell him that more often. the race this weekend is actually here, in florida. miami, specifically. it's always a celebrity shit show that no one really wants to see, but it's the main opportunity for the celebrity sponsors to actually go to a race.

"what else has been going on? oh, mom is still a therapist. i can't tell you much about that because of hipaa, but she always comes home saying that she's glad that she could help someone. i'm gonna have dinner with her tomorrow night, and then i'm going back into miami to watch logan's practice sessions."

you pause your rambling, thinking about what there is to say next, but your thought is interrupted by your stomach grumbling. loud. you and logan laugh just as loudly, the sound echoing through the grass field and stone gravesites. "oh, yeah, that's another thing. we brought lunch. i also got you pink tulips, because i know they're your favorite." you delicately rest the bouquet on your father's headstone as you sit down, then pull out the different plastic containers filled with food you'd stolen from the williams hospitality. "you'd be proud of me, dad. i smuggled this entire picnic out of the wiliams motorhome without a hiccup. robin hood style."

logan laughs, and you turn to him. he's mirrored your position, sitting cross-legged on the grass. "apple?"

"nah, i'm gonna start with my sandwich. i did grab you some of the salt and vinegar chips i know you like."

the look logan gives you can only be described as pure adoration. "you," he says, pointing a finger at you in an incredibly sassy manner, "are an absolute goddess."

"i know," you respond cheekily, tossing some hair over your shoulder.

the banter between the two of you continues through your picnic, laughter and smiles erasing the dried tracks of tears on your cheeks and on logan's. you're almost able to forget where you are.

tell me i'm despicable

almost two hours later, the two of you are laying in a nearby park underneath a tree, peacefully observing the clouds that pass overhead and talking even more about any topic that comes to your mind. the question that's been gnawing at you since your plane landed in miami eventually bubbles to the surface, and it tumbles past your lips before you can stop it.

"did you ever wonder why i moved to texas?" you look to your left where logan rests, but he keeps looking up at the sky. you mirror him.

"i always assumed it was just because you needed a change of scenery. after everything that happened and your music career taking off, it would make sense that you would relocate to somewhere better suited for you."

"that's the thing, though. if i'm being entirely honest with you, lo, i hate texas. i hate the whole state. i hate how hot it is all the time without even being humid, i hate not being able to go to the beach. i hate how dry it is. i hate how flat it is. i hate the monotony of it. i hate not being here."

logan hesitates for a moment before speaking, and it's the longest moment you've ever experienced. "why did you move to austin, then?"

when he looks over at you, you're chewing your lower lip. it's a nervous tic, logan's noticed. he's not even sure if you know you do it. "honestly? i thought you moved on from our friendship. i thought everything with f1 suddenly got so big and important and famous that maybe i wasn't... enough? i thought that being a police officer's daughter from the same town as you that was studying to teach people how to understand and play music maybe just wasn't cool enough to be friends with a world-renowned formula 1 driver."

logan's heart almost shatters when he hears the weakness in your voice. you sound so broken and so alone. he knew that, when you lost your father, you isolated yourself from a lot of people, even your best friend from high school and through your first year of college. he was the only person outside of your immediate family that you spent a decent amount of time with, but when he was admitted to the driver's academy he had to move to england. he abandoned you.

"i didn't. i never forgot about you. sometimes i still look through the photos we have together because i miss you that much."

you sit up, tears pricking your eyes for the second time that day. "really?"

"yeah. maybe once a week?"

when you look down at logan, you're suddenly starstruck. you can't help but notice all of his little features that you wouldn't see if you didn't know to look for them. his freckles that are so light you'd have to squint to see them if you didn't know them like the back of your hand. the mole on his chin that he'd always been self-conscious about but you've always seen it as beautiful. the lines from where his eyes crinkle when he smiles. the annoyingly perfect flop of his hair that he's styled almost the exact same way since you started high school together. an urge you haven't felt in years suddenly bubbles, white-hot in the pit of your stomach, and it's boiling over before you can stop it. your eyes are closed and your lips are on his. finally. after years of wanting, of stares that lasted just a bit too long to be just friendly, of flushed faces and nervous excuses, you're finally kissing him.

but he's not kissing you back.

you pull back immediately, panicked that you read something wrong. you turn away, hiding your face in your hands out of shame. "shit, logan, i'm so sorry. i thought-"

"kiss me again." logan sits up, and when you turn around, the look he's giving you can only be described as completely and entirely fucked. you don't question his statement, just lean forward, placing your lips on his, and letting yourself melt. he moans softly into the kiss, his right arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. when you pull away and open your eyes, your breath catches in your throat. he looks beautiful. his eyes remain closed, but when they flutter open, you see colors in them that you've never seen before. sure, you've always seen the darker rim of blue that outlines his irises, but now that you're so close to him, you can see the flecks of green and grey in them. it's the most stunning thing you've ever seen.

eventually, you break the silence between the two of you. "i've wanted to kiss you for so long," you whisper, so quiet you're not sure logan heard it.

but he did.

"me, too," he says, and after a beat of silence between you two, you both burst out laughing. the laugh he hears from you is the pure, bright laugh that logan's missed so dearly, the laugh that you only really let him hear. the laugh that has tears in your eyes and makes you snort because you're laughing so hard you can't even breathe properly.

eventually, when you're able to calm down, your head resting on logan's shoulder, your hand holding his, you're able to process what just happened. you just hope logan is processing it, too.

"we just kissed."

"yes. we did."

"how long have you held out on me?"

"since christmas of sophomore year. when you made me the chevron bracelet with my favorite colors."

you laugh, then lift your head to look at him. "i fell for you in october of that year. when you convinced your mom to drive two and a half hours for the marching band state finals. just so you could be there with me."

"god, we're idiots," logan laughs. you can't help but lean forward and press another kiss to his lips, lingering there and just breathing him in.

existing.

say it's unforgivable

the next two days fly by. thursday, you spend the day with your mother. she asks all sorts of questions as if she doesn't know the answers, and you answer each one with a smile on your face. when she asks about logan, you smile sheepishly. she figures out what the smile means.

"took you two long enough."

normally you'd still be in bed at 9:30 am on a friday, but today, you walk into the miami paddock clutching logan's hand for dear life. your neon green pass hangs from your neck, a white williams cap atop your head. you can't help but feel out of place, but someone calls logan's name and you both turn. your stomach drops when you see who's called his name. his hair is styled similarly to logan's, and he sports a papaya polo.

you'd know him anywhere. it's oscar piastri.

you're standing there a bit awkwardly as logan greets his friend, but your heart stops when oscar turns to you. "oscar, this is my girlfriend." he introduces you by your name to the mclaren driver and you wipe your hands on your denim shorts before shaking his hand firmly, exchanging "nice to meet you"s. the three of you chat for a few minutes before oscar is summoned by his pr manager.

"girlfriend, huh?" you look up at logan with a smile on your face, lacing his fingers with yours.

"i didn't mean to overstep, but i kind of assumed that's what this is now. is it?" he looks a bit nervous asking that, and if you thought your love for him couldn't grow any more, you thought wrong.

"that's absolutely what we are, lo. you're my boyfriend. i'm your girlfriend." you can tell just how hard logan's trying to not let the smile on his face show just how happy he is to hear you say that, and you stand on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips briefly. "you have a prep meeting to get to, don't you?"

"i do. come with me, though. i need to introduce you to alex and lily. she can show you around."

"sounds like a plan. i need to learn how to do all of..." you gesture around you, the white tents and media carts all seeming suddenly too intimidating. "...this."

logan laughs, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the williams hospitality. when you're next to him, though, despite the cameras around you and your proximity to some of the world's biggest stars, you feel safe and protected.

after meeting logan's teammate and the thai driver's girlfriend, who you quickly realize is one of the sweetest people you've ever had the pleasure of meeting, you're shown around the williams hospitality and, eventually, the paddock. lily introduces you to the other drivers' wives and girlfriends that have made it to the weekend, and when you hear a certain last name, your ears perk up.

"martinez? is she latina?"

"yeah," kika, pierre's girlfriend, says. "she's checo's wife. i'm pretty sure she's in the red bull hospitality right now, though."

"ah, speak of the devil," lily says. you see carola walking up to the five of you, alexandra ("please, honey, call me alex," she'd said, bringing you in for a kiss on your cheek,) having walked away to get a drink and escape into the sweet air conditioning. "carola, there's a new couple on the paddock."

"you're kidding," the latina answers, her accent apparent. "who?"

"logan found himself a girlfriend. allow me to introduce her." lily turns to you and introduces you by your full name, last name and all. it seems that carola has a similar reaction to your last name as you did to hers, and her head tilts to the side.

"ya no eres la única mexicana aquí," you say, and her eyebrows raise. (you aren't the only mexican here anymore.)

"hablas español, también?" (you speak spanish, too?) when you nod, her smile brightens. "hay, chica, creo que nosotras dos nos vamos a llevar muy bien." (oh, girl, i think we're going to get along very well.)

on saturday, you find yourself back in the williams motorhome, except this time, you wear a second badge, the neon green lanyard reading grid access in bold black lettering. like the day before, you clutch logan's hand for your own comfort until, much to your dismay, he's summoned for driver duties. you place a quick kiss on his cheek, and when you pull back, you aren't sure if the flush on his cheeks is from the affection or the miami heat. probably both.

"in case i don't see you before sprint. for luck."

"oh, you'll be in the garage. that's what this pass is for," logan says, holding your second badge in front of your face. "lily will show you where to go. i'll take a kiss anyways, though." you smile, stand on your toes, and kiss him, pulling back before he can wrap an arm around your waist. (that was a trick he very much enjoyed, as you'd learned the night before. there was something in him that needed you as close to him as possible, and it covered every nerve ending in your body in liquid fire.)

"off you go. you need to get race ready. i'll see you before you go out on the grid. don't worry." you gently shove him away with a smile, and you'd stare at him longer if your ankles weren't suddenly being attacked. you look down and squeal. "hi, leo! did your dad let you run free?" you squat down and scratch the mini daschund behind his disproportionally large ears, and he barks excitedly.

someone curses in french to your right, and you look up from the little golden ball of energy to see none other than charles leclerc frantically searching around. leo barks again, and the monégasque whips around, then locks eyes on you first, then his dog.

"merde, leo. you have too much energy for it being this early in the morning," he laughs as he walks over to you.

"i apologize, it appears i've unintentionally kidnapped your dog." you stand, and leo jumps at your calves again.

"ah, no harm, no foul," charles replies, picking up his dog and holding him close to his chest. "i will say, though, you look strangely familiar. have we met? my name is charles."

"we have not." you extend your hand and offer your name, and, when charles' eyebrows furrow and his head tilts in confusion, you realize that means nothing to him. "i'm logan's girlfriend."

"ah! yes, of course! he has a photo of the two of you at your high school graduation in his wallet. that's where i knew you from. well, it's nice to meet you!" that was news to you. logan has a picture of you in his wallet? either way, you just casually met one of the most famous people in the world like it was a standard tuesday.

if this is what i signed up for by being logan's girlfriend, then it is absolutely wild.

you're able to catch another good luck kiss with logan as he's almost fully suited up, and fuck, does he look good. his fireproof suit hangs low on his hips, the arms tied together in front of him. dark blue is a good color on him, and his facial hair is grown out in just the slightest. you can't lie, he looks hot as hell.

you cross your legs in an attempt to curb the heat that creeps down your tummy and between them. it doesn't work.

you amend it that night in logan's hotel room following his p10 in the sprint.

on sunday, you try to avoid thinking about the night before as you follow the same routine as the two days before- arriving early in the day, checking in at the williams motorhome, and then killing time until the driver's parade at 2:00 PM. you spend time with your new group of friends, spending the three remaining hours before the parade in the paddock club. rebecca, carlos' girlfriend, snickers at your shocked face when you see some of your idols and favorite celebrities casually walking around, gladly taking some photos for you as you're practically buzzing with excitement.

after the driver's parade, it's a whirlwind. you're swept back into the williams garage and find logan's driver's room relatively easily thanks to the help of some of the engineers and mechanics, but one of them stops you before you can venture too far into the depths of the hallways.

"could you tell him we have the pre-race strategy meeting in twenty minutes?"

"yeah, for sure." as you approach logan's door, you have to bite down on your lower lip to stifle the grin that wants to split your face. you knock on his door, and when he opens it, you know something's wrong. "lo, are you okay?" his eyes are red and his hand shakes on the doorknob. instead of a verbal response, he just opens the door a bit further to let you in, and, as soon as it shuts behind you, he sobs, and your heart shatters.

"i'm so scared. i'm so scared that something's going to happen and i'm going to let all of these people down and-" you gather him into your arms and he cries into the crook of your neck, your williams crewneck shirt now damp with his tears. you couldn't care less.

"you're going to do amazing, logie. i know you will." with your arms wrapped around him, it's almost like a weighted blanket of safety has encompassed him, and his sobs slow, his breaths growing deeper and more even. you continue murmuring words of confidence into his shoulder, and not a single word you say is empty.

"hey. look at me." you lean back and gently cup his cheek with your right palm, and when his eyes meet yours, you know that he needed to cry that one out. "do you feel a little bit better?" logan nods, tilting his head ever so slightly to kiss your palm, his own hand coming up to rest over yours. it's a cute, sappy, stupidly romantic moment that you from three weeks ago would've probably thought was the grossest thing known to mankind, but you can't help but bask in the moment. "is there anything i can do to help you feel better right now?" your voice is a soothing balm over logan's agitated nerves, and he slowly untangles himself from you and guides you over to the couch that's against the back wall, where he sits down and you curl up to his left side.

"can you just... talk? about anything?"

"are you seriously asking if me, the person with the most rampant adhd you've ever met, can talk about something? yes, logan, i absolutely can. what to talk about, though?"

as you talk, deciding to info dump about your favorite classical music piece, logan can't help but watch it unfold. he doesn't know jack shit about music theory, but listening to you ramble about something you're passionate about brings him so much peace. you're disturbed about fifteen minutes later by a knock at the door, promptly followed by a disembodied voice telling logan that it was time for the strategy meeting.

"aw, shit," he says, leaning his head back and rubbing at his eyes. "i have that to go to now."

"yeah, sorry. i was supposed to tell you about that but we had a bigger problem on our hands." your voice is sheepish now that your info dump has been cut short, but logan leans over to you and kisses you, soft and slow, just like the first time he kissed you properly in the park. when he pulls away, he looks so much calmer than he was twenty minutes before. "is there anything else i can do?"

"go have some fun in the paddock. and please drink some water." you roll your eyes and stand, bringing him in for another hug before you slip out of the door.

almost two hours later, you're back in the williams garage with a guest headset over your ears. your stomach twists with nerves as the national anthem concludes. lily's hand is clasped with yours.

"the first lap is the worst. after that, you lose a lot of the anxiety," she assures you, noticing how you chew your lower lip.

"thanks." you pause for a moment, contemplating another question. "does it ever get easier? seeing how they go out there and drive like absolute maniacs for fun?"

"it does. it took me a couple of months, but after alex showed me all of the safety features in the car and in his fireproofs, it definitely helped."

it's the moment you've been dreading.

one red light.

two.

three.

four.

five.

and then none.

the engines roar and the race has begun. lily didn't lie to you- the first lap is excruciatingly long, but when everyone's completed their first loop around the circuit, you let yourself breathe. your eyes are trained on the screen above you, and the laps are flying by so quickly that you barely process that the race is nearly halfway over.

but then logan's car is in the wall. fuck.

as you watch the replay of his crash, you can feel white-hot rage burning in your body. after the race stewards only declare a ten-second penalty and two super license points, though, you're fuming. "two penalty points and a ten-second penalty? magnussen caused logan's race to end, and they just let him go? they just forgive him and move on? how can he get away with that? this is bullshit!"

what a crash, what a rush

the first person logan looks for when he walks back into the williams garage, his visor still low over his eyes in shame, is you. when you see him walking towards the room where you and lily watch the race, you tear the headset off of your ears and run to him. the feeling of his arms wrapping around your shoulders and hearing his heartbeat even through your musician's earplugs soothes your agitated nerves. he's okay. he's alive. he isn't hurt. "thank fuck you're okay," you say, even though he definitely can't hear you through his helmet and over the roar of passing engines. when you pull away, you press a kiss to his knuckles and hope he understands how much love you're trying to convey through such a small gesture.

fuck me up, florida!

one of logan's best friends on the grid is oscar. oscar's teammate got his maiden win after almost five years of waiting in miami.

like any sensible person, you celebrate with him.

you have no idea what the name of the club is, much less how many drinks you've had so far, but what you do know is that lando has commandeered the dj station and logan is pressed against your back, his hands resting on your hips. the air is hot and thick, your heartbeat pounds in your head. the opening notes of bad bunny's tití me preguntó begin playing through the massive speakers, and you shoot a glare up to lando that he doesn't see, his focus instead on the equipment in front of him. when the bass hits, though, you let all apprehensiveness go and your genetics take the reins. your hips sway and swing to the beat, your hands wander up and down your torso, and logan simply follows your lead. it takes you a moment to realize that, if you want to get a rise out of him, you're going to have to spin around and face him.

with your hips swaying against his and how unbearably beautiful you look in the dim light, your skin glowing with sweat and your hair up in a high ponytail, logan can't help but lean down and kiss you when you finally turn around. you reciprocate gladly, your right leg slotting between both of his, and...

oh.

oh.

he's hard.

you pull away slightly, barely an inch between your lips. "slow your roll there, tiger."

"i don't want to." fire zips down your spine at the sound of his voice, low and breathy and so, so desperate. "need to fuck you."

"should we get outta here, then?"

"i thought you'd never ask." you smile and kiss him quickly, then take his hand and weave your way through the crowded dance floor. as the miami night air hits your face, you immediately feel cooler. you sigh, taking a moment to breathe and regulate your heart rate and body temperature, but you can't breathe for that long before logan wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him and kissing your neck. you laugh, running your hands along his forearms.

"logan, not here. the hotel is two blocks away."

"i can't help it, baby, you just look so pretty," he hums, kissing the back of your neck once more before pulling away and stepping around to face you. "you look so pretty, and you're mine."

his possessiveness of you makes more heat zip down your spine, and you almost drool at how he's looking at you. his eyes, normally a beautiful mix between the blues of the sky and sea, ar"e almost completely dark, only a small sliver of his irises remaining, and the muscles in his jaw tick. "hotel. now."

by the time you reach the door to logan's hotel room, you're both out of breath from how hard he kissed you in the elevator and the arousal and need between your legs won't be stopped unless he replaces it. you stumble through the door and try to kiss logan again, matching the vigor he showed you in the elevator, but he stops you. "wanna take my time with you tonight."

"yeah?" you raise an eyebrow and inspect his face. the blinds are open but no lights are on, so all you can see is the side of his face that's illuminated by the lights from the streets of miami. it's an unusually beautiful sight.

"yeah. nothing about what i'm about to do to you is going to be fast. i'm gonna make you feel good tonight. how's that sound?"

"that sounds amazing, logan." you lean forward and kiss him gently, your lips slotting together as if you were made for each other. who knows, maybe you were. the next five minutes are a blur, but before you know it, you're laying back against the pillows on logan's bed and his face is buried between your thighs, his tongue working magic on your clit. the air in the hotel room is filled with your moans and the sounds of logan devouring you like a man starved, and it's the most beautiful mix of sounds you've ever heard. when he flicks his tongue oh-so-perfectly against your entrance, his nose brushing over your clit, you moan and pull his hair hard, which, in turn, makes him moan against you.

you aren't sure how much time passes or how many orgasms logan pulls from you with just his tongue and his fingers, but when you feel completely and entirely spent, your chest heaving and your hairline sparkling with tiny beads of sweat, you pull logan up to you by his shoulders, and he looks completely and entirely fucked. "need you inside of me," you mumble, wiping at the mix of spit and cum that coats the entire bottom half of his face with your thumbs. as if on instinct, you bring your hands to your mouth and lick them clean, and logan groans at the sight. "inside. now."

"as you wish, baby." logan's hands fumble at his boxers, the only item of clothing he was left wearing, and when he finally, finally pushes himself into you, you both moan. your hands scrabble at his shoulders and back, most definitely leaving red marks that will raise later, and his mouth latches onto your neck, biting down and then gently kissing over the red spot.

"nngh, lo-" your brain is short circuiting, logan's cock filling you up so perfectly and absolutely ruining you for any other man ever.

"yeah? you okay, baby?" he pulls back from your neck and scans your face for any sign of discomfort of pain, his sky blue eyes searching your own. the feeling of safety you get from just that one action is almost enough to make you sob from how good you feel because of him, both physically and emotionally.

"feels so good, lo. j'st... move, please."

"you sure? i don't wanna hurt you."

"positive. now please." you reach a hand up and pull him down towards you by the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard. "fuck me properly." without wasting a second, logan reaches a hand down and hooks it under your left thigh, bringing your leg up to rest around his waist, then pulling back and thrusting back in fast. the moan that rips itself from your throat is sinful, and your breath is being punched from your lungs at the downright brutal pace logan's setting. your right leg finds itself locking around his waist, only bringing him infinitely closer, and now, each time he thrusts back into you, your clit bumps against his pelvis. within minutes, you're embarrassingly close to cumming again, and through your garbled mumbling and clawing at his shoulders, he understands, reaching his right hand down to gently press against your clit.

"cum for me, baby, please, need to feel you cum for me just one more time, just let go, i've got you." it's logan's voice that ultimately sends you pummelling over the edge into an orgasm that makes your back arch and your vision fuzz at the edges, and you cum with a cry of his name. his hips slow and his fingers maintain a steady rhythm on your clit, but you can tell it's taking its toll on him. "where- where do you want me to cum?"

"i'm on the pill, lo. inside, baby, please," you whine, and it takes two more thrusts before logan groans, his hips coming to a shuddering halt as he cums inside of you. it's a beautiful sight, too- his eyes scrunched closed and his eyebrows drawn together, his hair a complete mess from where your hands had pulled at it. your hands run through his hair and along his back, and you patiently wait as he comes back to earth.

"hi," he murmurs, opening his eyes and smiling down at you.

"hi," you respond.

no other words need to be said. you know you love him, and he knows he loves you.

and you're both okay with that.

this took me way longer to write than i thought it would, but i absolutely love it! reminder that my asks and requests are open, and i always get excited when i get feedback! take care of urselves lovies <3

[klxudykai]

i live in my imagination

i realized this a few days ago but classic me, I avoided it. but that was until I made the "ugly side of shifting" post. so this is me coming to terms with the fact that I live in my imagination. its been like that for years but it hit way harder when i got into shifting. it was just something I did when I didn't want to be surrounded by the real world. but I realize that its become an unhealthy amount. I don't suffer from maladaptive daydreaming or anything (at least I dont think I do), but that doesn't mean its not affecting me mentally and even socially. I dont have the desire to hang out with my cr friends like that because I'm so used to my imagination. it makes me comfortable because I can made it however I wanted it to be. I can make the people say and do whatever. its part of the reason I don't really talk about my problems to people I'm close with too. they aren't going to tell me the stuff I want to hear or its going to end up being something I've heard already. i recently started saying that I like the way I do things. which is true. I like being in my own space dealing with my issues on my own because no one else would tell me what I need to hear.

and when the thought that it was becoming an unhealthy obsession hit me, I hated it. and I still do. I don't want to give up on something that has made me stable and happy for years, but I know that if I want to shift and also make a real bond with my cr, I have to. so that's why I'm making a post. this is one of those things I cant do alone or keep to myself because again, I like the way I handle things so if it was up to me, I would delete this blog and go back to daydreaming 24/7, but I actually want to shift. I'm hoping that with this post we'll hold each other accountable and remind each other to actually SHIFT instead of daydreaming all the time.

sadly I don't have a lot of ideas of how to minimize day dreaming because everything I do makes me day dream BUT we are cutting all fanfics out those only make our imaginations bigger and cause us to daydream. so DONT. start embracing your CR and do smth like go outside or paint or do a new mf hobby. avoid daydreaming as much as you can

i gave up on a lot of problem solving, but this is one I intend to actually fix. and I would love for y'all to do that with me. if you don't want to that's perfectly fine I wouldn't want anyone to feel forced, but if you know you can then do it. don't say nothing like "oh no I cant do it I give up" because that sets you back further. so please at least try

once again I love y'all so much, pls dm me if you have anything you wanna talk about and if you have anything you wanna ask my asks are open (if y'all can even see them cause on mobile its not showing up for me idk) but yea <33

(yes I double posted shhhh)

[strongheartneteyam]

[ credits of the Neteyam pic go to cinetrix ]

Champagne Problems

Part 7

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader

CW: loads of angst, sexual tension, reader apologizes to Neteyam, fluff, Neteyam yearning for reader, physical contact between Neteyam and reader, some humor in Kiri's and Neteyam's interactions, Neteyam and reader miss each other, wounded Neteyam, reader's strong romantic feelings towards Neteyam, jealous reader, Neteyam talks to reader about the na'vi spirituality, reader is slowly starting to trust Neteyam, TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of a deceased family member and reader's feelings about their absence in her life, Neteyam comforting reader. Tell me if there's more, pls.

Again writing in the am... That's one of the only periods of the day I actually have some peace and quiet, so… 🤷🏻‍♀️ what can I say? Your girl does what she can. lol hope y'all enjoy this. Comments would be very appreciated 🤍 ps: there's just so much angst in this damn fanfic that I can never write it without getting emotionally destroyed 🥲 send help

Slightly proofread. There might be some mistakes along the way. I can't do more than that now bc it's past 5 am, I still didn't get any sleep and I'm dying 💀💩 love y'all ❤ bye I'm gonna try to sleep now

Part 6: I tried to hide but I still believe

𓇼

So many questions but I don't ask why

Maybe someday but not tonight

Hush hush, now

Don't you ever say a word of what you ever thought you heard

Don't you ever tell a soul but you know

I tried to hide but I still believe that we were always meant to be

And I can never let you go

No

Hush Hush (Avril Lavigne)

𓇼

You weren't quite sure what to do now. Your heart was pounding as nervousness covered you and there was an ache, a burn inside your chest.

You decided to close your eyes again and pretend to be asleep. You didn't know if Neteyam had noticed you there or not but you were praying he hadn't.

"Brother? Why are you back early?" Kiri questioned as she held a wooden green bead between her index finger and her thumb. All Kiri could think about was "Oh, Great Mother, this is gonna get really awkward really soon."

"Hi to you too!" Neteyam joked and Kiri rolled her eyes at him "I got bitten by an animal. No big deal, though." He tried to calm his sister down when he noticed the concern in her features "But as it was in my arm, I couldn't really go hunting with my friends for at least two days because it's swollen, so… I'm back early. There's no fun in being there for longer if I can't join the hunting competitions with the boys." Neteyam laughed it off but the bite was still hurting in a pungent way that bothered him a lot.

Kiri laughed "Yeah, I see. And I bet grandma was healing you with those herbs that make the wounds burn even more that you hate so much and you couldn't wait to get on your Ikran and fly back here, right?"

Neteyam frowned but he was chuckling too.

"Yeah, you got me." He scratched his head. It was a habit of his. "By the way, can you help me out with the bite, sister?" He asked

Kiri sighed in disappointment "Why didn't you send for Ronal? I'm kinda busy here." She signaled with her head towards her hands that were holding her necklace

"I don't wanna disturb her sleep. She might try to drown me." Both siblings started to laugh "Plus, you're a great healer." Neteyam defended himself and stroked his younger sister's ego

Kiri let out a grunt.

"Ok, then. Sit down and I'll help you."

"Thanks, teylu." He teased

Calling each other "teylu" was Neteyam's and Kiri's favorite way to insult one another. You know, it's a sibling's thing.

"You're the teylu here!" Kiri snapped back but in a playful way "Bothering me in the middle of the eclipse… did you know I have guests? Be quiet, they're asleep." Kiri said in a hushed, low tone as she gathered the medicinal plants she kept in her marui and the water she needed to mush together to make a healing substance and apply on Neteyam's wound

"Who are you talking about?" He chuckled "Is Tsireya and some other friend of yours spending the night here?"

As soon as Neteyam heard your name come out of Kiri's lips, his mouth got dry and he felt his heart skip a beat. Neteyam gritted his teeth, his jaw tensing up. He couldn't believe you were there. He couldn't believe he was gonna see your face again. Neteyam had started to wonder if maybe you had found a way to not come back to his tribe because of your job ever again after your team started to show up there without you multiple times. He didn't know if he should be sad or happy that you were there in his sister's home. To tell the truth, there was a mix of both emotions moving in an agonizing little dance inside his chest. He missed you like crazy and he had been dying to see you again but he knew that as soon as he looked at you again and saw your small frame and smelled your unique scent, he would find it utterly hard to resist taking you in his arms and kissing you. Yes, Neteyam was still hurting a whole lot and he was still a bit angry at you, but, Eywa… he felt like a piece of him was missing ever since you left. The yearning to feel you against his body again was bigger than the wound in his ego. So, Neteyam had to make a big effort to keep himself together and not run to the tiny but hugely beautiful girl he now recognized as being you, sleeping in one of the mats on the floor of his sister's marui. 

Neteyam had no idea you were actually awake and listening to the conversation he had been having for some minutes now with Kiri.

𓇼

Kiri had now taken care of Neteyam's wound. It was on his biceps.

"Damn, it must have hurt a lot… Poor him…" You thought.

You breathed in deeply and breathed out, trying to gather courage to do the next thing. You got up from your mat, your legs carefully avoiding Adeline and Kate, as their bodies were lying right next to where you were lying before. 

You walked towards where Neteyam and Kiri were. She was finishing putting away the healing materials in a straw basket while squatting. 

"Hi." You sheepishly greeted Neteyam "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

His feline yellow eyes lingered on you for a second, like he was trying to find a way to respond, but it was difficult to do so.

"Sure." It was all he could say

Kiri gazed rapidly at the both of you "I'm gonna give you guys some privacy." She could feel what you guys were gonna talk about. 

All of you were keeping your voices down so your conversation wouldn't wake the girls up.

Kiri quickly got out of her marui, leaving you and Neteyam "alone" (Technically, Kate and Adeline were there too, even if they were asleep, nothing could guarantee that they wouldn't wake up).

You sat down next to him on the floor, feeling awkward and guilty.

"I'm sorry I was rude to you that morning after the party. I didn't mean to be. I didn't mean to… I don't know, to be so blunt, to be so… cruel when turning you down. I really am sorry. I understand if you're mad at me. I deserve it." 

"I wasn't mad, I was… hurt." Neteyam admitted 

"You were a little mad." You insist with an awkward smile

"Yeah, my pride was hurt. As I said, at the end of the day, it wasn't anger, it was pain." There really was pain in his face, even now

Damn, now you felt even worse…

"But we can just forget about it. It's in the past now. I accept your apology." Neteyam smiled to hide the part of him that was still screaming at him to ask you once again to be his mate. Maybe this time you'd say "yes"... Damn, who was he kidding? He knew it was just stupid wishful thinking.

"Thanks for being so nice to me even after I was such a jerk to you… You didn't have to forgive me, you know." You gave him a sad smile

"Of course I have to. You deserve it. You deserve so much more." He smiled back, sheepishly 

You sighed internally. Why did he have to always be so nice? That only made your heart hurt more and more for rejecting him that morning after the beach party. But it was for the best. It's better if you and Neteyam share nothing but a friendship. You would never wish to taint him with all the turmoil of negative emotions and traumas you carry around wherever you go.

"So… Can we… be friends?" You asked, fearing the answer that was coming

"Of course, tawtute." Neteyam confirmed as he smiled kindly at you "I'd love to have you as my friend."

A few seconds of some awkward silence later, you tried breaking the ice.

"So… I saw you talking to Munì. How's she doing?" The words left your lips before you realized it, leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

Way to go, (y/n)! Worst possible way ever to break the ice!

Neteyam's hairless eyebrows frowned. 

"I don't know. I haven't talked to her since that morning."

"Really?" There was way more anger slipping out of you than you had anticipated. "I saw the way you two were smiling at each other. You really did not talk to her after that morning?" Why were you questioning him like that? Jesus…

God, you didn't even have the right to be angry! Neteyam wasn't your boyfriend or anything like that. But still, jealousy was eating your insides.

Neteyam laughed at the question, realizing you seemed jealous and bitter about it. But it seemed too good to be true. Did he really still have a chance to win your heart? Eywa knows he would never give up on trying to get you if he knew he had even the slightest of chances with you.

"Tawtute, I was just talking to her. You have to stop assuming things about people!" He smiled at you showing no teeth while shaking his head from side to side, showing you how silly your bad habit was "Actually, I was trying to be nice to her to not break her heart too much because yes, she was flirting with me but I wasn't interested."

You felt blood run to your cheeks.

"But you guys seemed so happy…"

"I was just being nice to her." Neteyam reinforced "I promise. Do you trust me?" He asked gently 

Unfortunately, the first instinct that came to your head was "Don't believe him. He's lying to you. You saw what you saw." but this time you were able to actually think a little more, be a little more rational and wonder "What did I actually see? Neteyam was really just talking to Munì. I didn't see him touching her or kissing her or anything. OK, she was smiling and clearly flirting with him, but that doesn't matter. Just because she was trying to charm him, it doesn't mean he was being charmed by her. All I saw was him treating her nicely and smiling at her and Neteyam is usually nice to everyone. He's right… I should trust more freely."

You looked at Neteyam and breathed deep.

"I do." You gave him a coy smile and he smiled back, this time revealing his big sharp fangs to you as his lips parted.

Damn, why was he so freaking hot? Ugh!

𓇼

After some time spent talking to each other, Neteyam took something out of a small dark brown pouch bag.

"I made this for Tuk" Neteyam said, holding an oblong piece of wood with an image of a Viperwolf (or a Nantang, in na'vi) carved in it. "She loves Nantangs."

"It's beautiful. You're talented." You smiled at him

"Thanks." Neteyam smiled back, his golden eyes squinting slightly at you 

The gift Neteyam had made for Tuk reminded you of the gifts you and Tracy would give each other. You used to make colorful bead bracelets and give them to her. She would get so happy and smile widely at you. Your heart would feel warm. After she grew up a bit and wasn't a small toddler anymore, she started to make you some and give them to you too. It became a sisterly tradition for the both of you.

God, how you missed her… Your chest started to hurt and a lump was now in your throat, making it harder to breathe.

Neteyam noticed.

"Are you OK?" He asked, concern all over his beautiful features 

You started telling Neteyam how your little sister had died in the car accident. You finally let your defenses down to the point that now you felt comfortable to tell him not just that but also how you felt agonizingly alone and lost after her passing, as you both had a strong, pure bond. Tracy used to be your best friend.

"I loved being her big sister, giving her advice and taking care of her. I miss all the nights we would stay up eating candy and watching stupid teenage movies because she loved them so much." You reminisced through tears

Neteyam related deeply to you, on how it felt good to be the older sibling. All he could do was thank Eywa that he still had all his siblings alive, safe and sound. Thinking about losing little Tuk, Lo'ak or Kiri like you lost Tracy made his chest hurt profusely. He could only imagine your pain. He knew he could never actually know how much it must have broken you in pieces to see your little sister for the last time, paler, no longer breathing, but he felt so, so much empathy towards you.

All Neteyam wanted to do was hold you tight and make all your pain go away. He knew he couldn't get rid of all your sorrows but he would surely make his biggest effort to fight away all the demons he would be able to. 

"Eywa, (y/n)... I'm so, so sorry about that. I can only imagine how much you must miss her. I know I would if I lost any of my siblings…" Just the thought of that made his chest hurt a little bit "You know, my people have a saying about death: All energy is only borrowed, and one day you have to give it back. I don't know if it gives you any comfort but I think it's a good way to view the passing. It's not the end. Your sister's body helped plants grow on the ground she was buried in, did you know that? A part of her still lives inside the leaves or the flowers or the grass there. I'm assuming Earth's ground works like Pandora's ground does." He chuckled slightly, trying not to seem disrespectful 

"Neteyam, that's actually… really comforting. And beautiful. Thank you so much." You smiled at him and felt an urge to touch his hand to show him your gratitude but you thought it was better not to do it.

Eventually you fell asleep, back against the marui's wall. Neteyam carried you to your mat in his arms, carefully, just so he wouldn't wake you up, even though you seemed to be in deep sleep. He softly laid you down on your mat and felt the urge to kiss you goodnight but he knew he couldn't. And it broke his heart not to do it because he loved you with all his body and soul.

Neteyam quickly left Kiri's marui and headed to his family's home, trying hard to forget your beautiful sleeping face all the way until he got there, trying hard to forget your unique and addictive scent, the way your lips felt just like the inside of a rose when you both had kissed, the way it felt to mate with you and feel your soft human skin against his… It didn't matter how much he tried, he would never be able to forget you. Your name was tattooed on his heart.

𓇼

Taglist:

@iman-lu

@leaveitbythewave

@creepytoes88

@live-laugh-neteyam

@swaggygurlbae

@neteluvr

@layla2-49

@a-blog-name-2003

@lala-1516

@jakesullyfatjuicypeen

@yeosxxx

@iaratezaewa

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hii i LOVE your posts and I would like to ask you for a headcanon with tom or bill the one you feel comfortable with and a big chested reader (I'm a big chested girl and I get a lot of comment on it or people staring at it even if I have a sweater on) what would they think of it, how would they react if they heard people saying thing about the reader chest and things like that pls i'm begging you :))

(Hello, I'm glad you requested and sure I can! I'm glad you like my posts and hope you like this one as well! Enjoy!)

Big Chested Reader

I'm so sorry to say he would also stare quite a bit

I gotta keep it real I'm so sorry

If you're in the band and even before dating

He flirts with you sm and also sorta hypes you up about it

Is constantly calling you hot or making playful cat calls at you

If you're uncomfortable, smack him around a bit and he'll learn to stop

But if you find it funny or don't care, he's kicking it up

After y'all start dating he feels like he's floating and also so proud

You're absolutely gorgeous

He'd probably put his head on your boob and die

Once again, like in previous requests I stick to it, there are many paparazzi pictures of you Abt to kill him while he is smug as shit

He has his arm around you, his hand near your boob and subtly copping a feel

Yell at him please, he's a dumbass

All this is his playful way, tell him to stop and he will

He finds you very beautiful, with or without your chest

It's what he first noticed about you but it's not why he was interested in you

He likes your nature, your style, your beautiful face and so much more than your boobs

He will die if you wear tight clothes or show any cleavage

You have to revive him because he feels like he has ascended

Death in boobs is his way of going hands down

He would never objectify you by your chest though

He hates when media puts attention into you like that or interviews comment on that

He is fuming and is not really afraid to hide it

He insults people, yells, even sometimes wants to fight but it's all for you

Control this man

Feels like commiting murder when he sees people staring

He can stare, they can't!

He worked hard to be with you, they don't get a freebie just for your chest, especially because you are so much more than that

When people say shit about it Tom will have the time of his life throwing insult after insult at them

On how the can improve their looks, their career, their entire lives and everything above

He is proud, hilarious and smug while doing it

Hates when ppl make you uncomfortable

Not afraid to bash a bottle over their head and book it

You've barely stopped him from doing it before

He's gonna do it someday, he swears

[antoncore]

Hii ceebear !!! Idk who gabe u that nickname or whatever related to it, but i saw someone call u that on the tl, and like IM CALLING U THAT IDC (if ur okay w it) LIKE WTF ITS SUCH A CUTE NICKNAME CEEBEAR !!! CEECEEBEAR!!! also.... U should give me a nickname 🫣🫣🫣 instead of just being choc anon.... So i have a really ethnic name... So i don't have like a "white" nickname, so im giving u the liberty to give me a nickname based off of whatever vibes u get from me 🤩🤩🤩 pls don't feel pressured to do so tho..

Anyways!! U said u wanted to chat.... Lets chat !!! Also i realised that I've never sent smth abt all the riize members and am always taking abt 01z... Im so sorry 😔😔 lemme reedem myself real quick! Hold on tight bcoz ur in for a ride 😱🙆🏾‍♀️🙆🏾‍♀️

1. Shotaro: YUGUGHUG UM... i need to kiss him while he giggles... Also um.. reslly weird but why do i feel like he'd be so lost in the pleasure while ur... And start praising u in Japanese 😱😱🫣🫣🫣 also also also omg dancer taro 🤩😱 need to help him relieve his stress after a stressful dance session, he'd be so sweet abt it too.... Letting u do ur thing 😋😋😋

2. MY POOKIE WOOKIE EUNSEOK: imma keep is short n simple since i always ralk Abt him. I need traditional husband eunseok rn. Like all i can imagine is him sitting w yalld kids when ur non home and be like "what should we get mommy for her bday, hmm?" LIKE AHAAHS HE'D BE SO CONSIDERATE AND SPOIL U SM

3. POOKIE WOOKIE (2) KEEPING IT SHORT N SIMPLE (2): one thing. 3 words. Bsfs brother sungchan. Little game of hide n seek, hiding from ur bsf, late night meet ups AHAHAHA 😭

4. WONBINBIN: um.. if I don't get to suck hickies onto that man's adams apple....goodbye 👋🏾🫂 running ur hands up n down his biceps OH LORD ?! ALSO he just seems so sweet to me.. like i cannot imagine hard dom wonbin im sorry 😭😭😭 bcoz he'd smile at you so sweetly, but also be very messy in a way. And he would give such good head ahahaaa pls ?!?! 😋😋😋😋 Im dying i need wonbin between these legs RN RN

5. Soheehee: bsf sohee while the tension builds up.... In a big friend group too, the lingering touches, sneakily meeting up... Y'all think ur slick but ur really not! Sohee gives making out behind the building of ur class! Ooh and his hands 😐 OMG... Sohee fingering u... So slowly and nicely, pleasing u so well 🫶🏾 also he'd definitely keep wanting to kiss u while ur fucking, thus why always laying u om ur back....cute pecks w each thrust 🥴🥴🫣

6. Bring my MAN BACK RN: okay really controversial take rn... But STAY W ME PLS FOR THE PLOT 😐🫶🏾🫶🏾 seunghan and u sneaking around... Bcoz he's like the typical bad boy, and ur parents HATE HIM... Ofc as mhch as hes a "bad boy" on the outside he's the sweetest kindest to u, having ur firsts w him....him getting u addicted to sneaking out the window just to make out with him .... It all slowly getting more and more hotter.... (I will expand on this in the next ask, bcoz i have. A LOT TO SAY 😋😋)

7. Tonnie cuttie: campus coupls anton * reader !!!! both of u being the top of ur classes, but still making so much time for eacher! Even though yall study most the time and have study dates, he gets a little... Impatient sometimes... Both of u finding urselves behind the last shelf in the library making out... Also y'all being little freaks 🫣🫣🫣 every friday going to his dorm for movie night, but yk it always ends up in NASTY fucking... But it all balances out bcoz the next morning y'all go to the cafe on campus to get a nice swet breakfast together 😋😋😋😋😋 him also subtly marking u, even though EVERYONE knows ur together, he will leave his marks, to make SURE they KNOW ur his 😋😋😋 u whining abt the big hickey on ur neck, while yk you love his ways 💗💗💗

- im so sorry, hope its not TOO much ceeceebear, ily !!!!

- 🍫

hiii i’m okie with it, any nicknames are cool as long as they’re not mean (but i think that’s obvious hehe) but nickname… i can think of choccie 💀 so lmk if that’s okie with you <3 and its okay dw i understand… let me answer each one of your hcs hehe (note: i hope i did these justice)

shotaro: personally i’ve always found speaking a different language so attractive !! hmmm pussydrunk taro that starts praising you in japanese, telling you how beautiful you look under him. you’d been learning with him so when you figured out what he meant you’d gasp, grabbing onto his hair and begging him not to stop. and for sucking him off… in the practice room in front of the mirror <3 he’d be so lazy after a long day he’d just lean back into the chair and let you make him cum.

eunseok: he’d 100% shower you with the most expensive gifts he could find. you’d be going away on holiday with a whole new set of clothes, shoes, jewellery etc. and he’d make a cute lil hamper of gifts that are from your kids which would be so ADORABLE my god. and when the nanny got the kids to sleep, he’d take you out for dinner and fuck you so good when you got home 🥰

sungchan: going over to yours and telling your bsf that he’s going to visit his friend :( he’d fuck you so good, unlike any other guy you had (possibly even the first guy to actually make you cum :0) but what about one night your bsf calls you while he’s eating you out and you just have to act normal, try not to whimper as sungchan’s got his fingers deep inside you while licking your clit hajsnsnsnsns

wonbin: the mental image of wonbin between your thighs has me crazy!!!! like you don’t understand!!!! he’d look so pretty and soft, just running your hands through his hair oh god i feel like i’m seeing heaven LOL. also feel as if he could be a bed humper, moaning against you as he eats you out, just adores making you feel good :((

sohee: i love bsf sohee so much (was contemplating making a series of thoughts abt bsf sohee but it would never get done so…) but YEAH meeting separately to your friend group, trying things together. one night watching porn together and you jerk him off while he’s got his fingers deep inside you <3 moaning in each other’s mouths too god it would be so fucking hot like ISNSNSJSJ FUCK

seunghan: i see your vision !! i love this concept of him being so sweet and gentle with you, corrupting you slowly. i can see him climbing through the window and sitting on your windowsill as you make out, pulling you onto his lap hehe. but ofc i’ll let you elaborate in the next ask as you said :3

anton: humping with him as you make out between the bookshelves knowing that you probably shouldn’t but you just get too lost in it :( and going out after movie night barely being able to walk properly because of how good he fucked you :0 but it’s okie he’s bought you your favourite sweet treat so you forgive him!! also him leaving lil pecks where he left the marks whenever a guy walks by and stares at you because you’re all his !! i feel he’s got a lil bit of a possessive side hehe

[maladaptive-day-dreams]

I’m thinking enemies to lovers (sorta?) Robin thoughts. Specifically with the one bed trope?

LISTEN!

The world is literally ending in Hawkins and you’re a part of the group. Houses have been destroyed and so you’re forced to crash in a motel or something. You name it.

The point is: You end up in a room with Robin Buckley. Robin who talks and talks like her life depends on it. Robin who can’t seem to stand you, for reasons you can’t seem to figure out.

And oh? There’s only one bed!

So, because you’re so goddamn tired, you end up curled up against one another. Just to have some warmth of course.

And, just because of your newfound proximity, it happens to be that her thigh ends up between your legs.

It’s only natural that you end up grinding against it, right?

“It’s nothing” you tell yourself (and Robin too) as you rock back and forth. As her hands grab your hips. “It’s nothing as long as I don’t cum”/“It’s nothing as long as you don’t touch me”.

But oh well, isn’t that hard if she starts whispering dirty things to you? If her hands start trailing over your stomach? Over a soaked pair of panties….?

-🪷

Lotus anon pls know that you have a fan club in the discord I'm in with @robinsno1lesbian and @lightvixxen 🫶🏻 we stan you and your thots frfr

ANYWAY this made me feel things bc one-bed trope and enemies-to-lovers are two of my fave tropes and when put together???? GAWD ALMIGHTY IS IT THE ABSOLUTE BEST

(this got a lil out of hand and is much longer than originally intended DAMN I MISSED WRITING SMUT)

nsfw under da cut you know the drill mdni (thigh riding & oral)

You're not sure what you did to make Robin Buckley hate you, but she does. Even when you try and be nice to her! When you try and chime in in her conversations with Eddie, Nancy and Steve, she gets quiet and glares at you.

And now you're here, stuck in a motel room with just her because Steve had the bright idea to separate the rooms girls/guys and Nancy didn't join y'all on this misadventure.

And it's somehow worse than you thought it could be — the two room options left at this motel in the middle of bumbfuck Indiana were two twins and a queen. And the boys were adamant on not sharing.

So now you get to be in the same bed, under the same covers, as a girl who hates you but looks hot while doing it.

It's quiet while the two of you take turns in the bathroom getting ready for bed. You didn't know that today's "adventure" was going to take this long, so you're stuck sleeping in a spare t-shirt that Steve happened to have in his trunk.

You're already under the covers by the time Robin finishes in the bathroom. Scrunched up all the way on your side of the bed, Robin says nothing as she climbs in beside you. You feel the bed dip and melt at the warmth radiating off of her body but consciously make effort not to move.

30 minutes pass and you can't fall the fuck asleep. The room is too cold and you don't have the right pajama's on for fall in Indiana. Shaking, you hop out of bed and tiptoe to the A/C unit praying that it actually works and isn't just there as decoration to pass inspection.

"What are you doing?" Robin asks when you move in to her peripheral vision.

"I'm freezing, I'm trying to see if I can turn on the heat in here."

"I tried while you were in the bathroom, it won't let us change it. It looks like only the manager can."

You curse under your breath and trudge back to your side of the bed.

"Swear to god," Robin mumbles. She turns over to face you as you climb back under the covers. "Move closer to me, it'll be warmer if we're closer.

You do so, tentatively, but then Robin grabs your hip and pulls you into her chest.

"Relax, I won't bite."

But you can't relax. Your whole body is tense because you've never been this close to Robin before. She moves her hand back to her side and starts to doze off.

Another 30 minutes pass. You still can't fall asleep. This time, though, it's because of Robin's heat and her breath on your neck. Your arms are covered in gooseflesh and your breathing is heavy.

You shift your body, trying to find a comfortable position without moving too far from Robin's heat. You figure turning to face her could work to get you out of your head and keep your distance. But in her sleep, Robin moves too. Molding herself to your body when you move.

Her arm ends up around your waist and pulls you closer to her. You try to pull away, but she's stronger than you.

And her thigh ends up between your legs. That you didn't see coming.

And now you'll never be able to sleep, because while you know you should pull away or wake her up or do something, you really don't want to because the placement and pressure of her leg is just right.

And now your body moves of its own accord, craving friction, wanting warmth, needing release to help you fall asleep.

You keep the movements slow, soft and easy as to not wake Robin up. "It's nothing," you whisper to yourself, hips shifting and grinding down on her thigh. You're breath comes in soft pants as you keep rocking back and forth chasing your high, not noticing the girl in front of you waking up. "Just some relief, It’s nothing as long as I don’t finish," you breathe softly.

"Oh but how would you fall asleep if you don't cum?" Robin's sleep heavy voice asks as her hand comes to your hip.

You freeze and squeeze your eyes shut, scolding yourself for being an idiot.

"Don't get all shy on me now, darling," Robin chuckles.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"No need to apologize, we're both girls, I get it."

You muster up the courage to tilt your head up to meet the Robin's gaze. Her eyes are glossy and dark, but you can't tell if it's dislike of you or lust that makes her pupils blow wide.

"It- It means nothing as long as you don’t touch me, okay?"

"Deal, just two girls helping each other out."

Robins grip moves from your hip to the thigh that rests on hers. She pulls you closer, her leg nestling further into the apex of your thighs and intensifying the pressure there. You gasp and let out a groan, head rolling back as your hips start moving again.

Her hand moves back to your hip, guiding your movements as you chase euphoria. You can feel her gaze, the weight of her eyes heavy on you as you grind against her.

"C'mon angel, use my thigh. Ride me as hard as you need to."

You moan and lift your head to meet her eyes. The look in them does you in — she looks hungry. Your hips rock faster as the coil in your stomach tightens to a knot. Robin's hand on your hip squeezes and pushes you down while she pulls her thigh up, the pressure being all you needed to finally come undone.

Quick gasps, curled toes and closed eyes tell Robin all she needs to know. That and the wet heat she feels spreading on her thigh.

Robin curses under her breath and you slowly open your eyes. Her face is tinged pink and her chest is rising and falling quickly and you're apologizing profusely.

"I'm so sorry, jesus h christ. Why did I do that? I'm an idiot. You already hated me and now you definitely don't like me and have a reason not to-"

The feeling of Robin's warm hand on your stomach where Steve's tshirt rolled up stops you short.

"Would someone who hated you let you ride their thigh like you would someone's face?"

"Uh, no?"

Her hand trails across the top of your panties.

"Would they ask if they could see how you taste?"

You nod your head no, never losing eye contact with Robin and her finger move slowly along the front of your panties towards your clothes cunt.

"Can I?" she asks again.

You nod and let out a breathy, "yes," and your thigh is lifting up while her fingers are pushing your panties to the side and pushing between your lips gathering your release. Glistening fingers are lifted to Robin's mouth and she licks the remnants of you clean off of them.

"Fuck," she moans.

Your eyes are trained on her mouth. And she notices.

"Just two girls helping each other out right?"

"Mhm," you nod.

"Do you want to help me out now?"

"Yes."

"Good girl, answer me two things: do you like girls?"

"Yes."

"I would hope so with that stunt you just pulled," she laughs. "And second, can I touch you now that it will mean something?"

"Fuck, yes. Please."

Robin smiles and wraps a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a hot and heavy kiss as she rolls the two of you over so you're lying on your back with her hovering above you.

She keeps kissing you, tongue sliding over your lips begging for entrance only you can allow. And you do, the kiss deepening into all tongue and teeth while her hands move to the hem of Steve's shirt that you're still wearing.

Robin breaks the kiss to remove the shirt from your body. Gooseflesh peppering your exposed stomach and nipples hardening in the cool air of the motel room. She kisses down your neck to your chest, nipping at your collarbone as she maneuvers her way to your breasts.

She kisses down the valley of them before licking a stripe up the center of each tit, gasps leaving your mouth when she moves over your nipples.

"God, I want to worship your body, but you got me worked up so that'll have to wait," she says between kisses down your stomach.

Her hot mouth lands just above the waistband of your panties before she pauses to ask, "is this okay?"

"Yes," you breathe out, and Robin's hands move to each of your hips and pull your panties off your legs and tosses them wherever she tossed Steve's shirt.

The heat of her mouth ghosts over your cunt but doesn't stay where you want her to. Instead she kisses your left inner thigh and then the right where she bites you. You flinch and pull your thigh away from her, spreading your legs more so she settles more into the space between them.

"You said you didn't bite," you laugh, looking down at her between your thighs. It's an erotic sight that has your head reeling.

"That was before you used my thigh like you probably do your pillow at home," she smirks up at you before blowing cool air on your slick pussy.

You gasp and toss your head back, hands curling into the sheets below you.

Her mouth moves slow, tongue licking up your lips from hole to clit before circling the bud of nerves and sucking.

"Robin," you moan as her mouth works you over. She trades off sucking and flicking at your clit until you're writhing beneath her, hips grinding up and into her begging for more friction. "Don't stop — fuck — don't stop!"

And she doesn't, she places a hand on your lower stomach to hold your hips down and you look to her. Her brunette hair between your legs, mouth buried in your pussy, you clench around nothing and your thighs close in on her.

And then her eyes meet yours as she shifts her pattern of licking and sucking, watching your face change with pressure and speed until she finds the right rhythm that makes you bite your lips and scrunch your brows in building pleasure.

Her free hand moves underneath her and into the waist of her boxers. You notice her hips grinding into the pillow and can only assume that she's riding her fingers while getting you off with her mouth.

Knowing this has you closing your eyes and squeezing your legs more as a knot grows in the pit of your stomach.

Robin's hot mouth never lets up until you tense and your legs shake with your climax. Your eyes are closed, mouth open in a silent cry, hand buried in the brunette's hair as you grip onto her and pull her into you more, her mouth still sucking on your clit.

Once your high begins to fade she lets go of the bud of nerves and shifts down as she continues to ride her own hand. Mesmerized by the grinding of her hips you flinch when her tongue flits out and into your cunt, licking and tasting your release, eating until she's had her fill and her own toes curl beneath her.

She rests there, between your thighs, and takes her hand out of her pants. Your eyes catch the glistening digits and you grab her wrist to clean them for her.

"We'll talk about this in the morning," she says using your stomach as a pillow. "For now lets both get some sleep."

A light kiss to your navel is all you remember before you fall asleep.

Morning comes too quickly, and a conversation kind of happens. Robin says she wanted to look unapproachable because she's fallen for straight girls too often and couldn't read you, so the two of you decide to go out on a few dates and see where things go when you all get back to Hawkins.

You meet the boys at the car after Steve pays the motel tab and returns the keys, you and Robin standing closer than usual.

"So," Eddie smirks. "Did you two have a good night?"

You turn red as a tomato and Robin punches Eddie in the shoulder.

"Not our fault you two forgot that our rooms shared a wall," Steve adds in with a laugh as he turns out of the parking lot.

[folatefangirl]

On The Darkest Corner of the Heart

A comment on how Booktwt, Booklr, and Booktok media reactivity has lost the plot

Or, I think y'all need to log off and touch some grass and think about your actions for a hot minute. Note: This rant is a tad long, because I'm fucking pissed.

Disclaimer 1: I don't personally know the author of this book or anyone screenshotted in the drama. We aren't friends. I have no reason to either defend nor criticize these people, except for the fact that I've been a primary reader of self-pub and indie books for almost a decade now, and yes, including romances that some people don't consider worthy of civility. I'm also a queer healthcare worker.

Disclaimer 2: I don't want anyone mentioned/screenshotted here to be spammed with hate. Please do NOT contact them, including any authors mentioned. I included the primary actors for the current drama primarily so people don't claim I'm talking out of my ass.

Book blurb:

Forbidden. That's what they are to each other. Maddie Stevens has never felt good enough. Not good enough to keep her parents’ love. Not good enough to be independent and stop being her brother’s problem. Not good enough to build the future she wants. When she injures her ankle before a ballet audition that could change her career forever, she’s convinced her life is over at twenty-one. What’s the point of having dreams when they can go down the drain at any moment? And because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, her physical therapist turns out to be a tank-shaped grouch who doesn’t even seem to like her that much. It’s totally unfair that, for six weeks, she’s forced to look at that handsome beard and listen to that deep voice that makes her head all dizzy. Top that with the fact that he’s ten years her senior, and falling for James Simmons is a recipe for disaster. But when their forced proximity makes the lines start blurring, the forbidden temptation becomes impossible to resist.

The Timeline:

Events preceding 2023: Lisina Coney, author of The Darkest Corner of the Heart, was born in 1999 in northern Spain. She worked as a translator prior to publishing books.

Initially I thought these books were only self-published, but in fact are published under the formerly indie publisher Page & Vine, founded by romance novelist Meredith Wild.

January 27th, 2023: The Brightest Light of Sunshine is published by nearly 24-year-old Lisina Coney. On Goodreads, it currently sits at 3.87 stars as of today, February 10th, 2024, with 27,727 ratings and 3,592 reviews. Note: For a small-time author, especially for a debut novel, these numbers are huge.

May 2023, Page & Vine announced that Big 5 publisher Simon & Schuster would distribute their books as an imprint beginning in summer 2023.

In mid-to-late 2023, Lisina's website and socials announced The Darkest Corner of the Heart, her second novel to be published with Page & Vine on February 20th, 2024. Note: This means the events below occurred BEFORE the book's publication.

February 5th, 2024: anaborbareads on Twitter/X posts the cover and other art of Darkest Corner with the text, "a forbidden romance between ballerina and physical therapist???? pls i need this book now 🥺✨💗🫶🏻"

February 6th, 2024: h0mmelette on Twitter/X responds to anaborareads with "the booktok genre of forbidden romance is hilarious. theyre straight… whats forbidden"

February 6th, 2024: a tumblr user reposts the twitter thread from above to tumblr. Other tumblr users reblog and add on, and it quickly goes viral.

February 7th, 2024: From what I can tell via reverse image searching, the first iteration of the fake ARC page that's going around appears to be from Twitter/X user queef1ng. About 4 hours later, the same fake ARC page was reposted on the tumblr post mentioned above. And from here, this story takes a turn from people wanting to feel like they're above a romance novel writer to potential legal territory.

Of the 122 ratings on Goodreads for Darkest Corner to date, 9 appear to be 1-star reviews and from what I can tell, most/all of them were only published since the events began on 06Feb2024. 71 are 5-stars and while some of those are ARC readers, many newer ones appear to be trying to counteract the review bombing from the fake ARC page.

As of today, February 10th, 2024, it looks like the book will still be published on February 20th as planned, but we'll see.

Wait, so how do you know the page is fake?

I can't believe people have been so gullible but fine, here's my analysis:

Lisina's real ARC readers have stated that it isn't from the book (not gonna document all of them in the screenshots but you can easily go to the book's GR page and see the ARC reviews there).

As other folks pointed out on the tumblr repost, no real ARC page does a weird review watermark like that. Speaking from my own experience in reviewing ARCs or beta-reading, I agree.

The font tipped me off because it looked like it had literally been written on a Fanfiction.Net page. Not that Verdana, font size 10, is unique to FFN, but it looks like fanfiction typed font. Which brings me to:

Literally how could you believe this author writes like this? You can read her website or preview her first book or just have the bare minimum common sense to understand what satire looks like. If you don't believe me (because I know framing a post like this will put a lot of people on the defensive), I've also included screenshots below. The prose and dialogue are COMPLETELY different from the alleged screenshot. The only thing that is similar is that both characters are ballerinas.

But wait, all of this doesn't explain why YOU, Cinnia, are so pissed about this?

You're completely right! It really doesn't. All of the above is mostly documentation so the naysayers can't say I'm just some silly fangirl of the author.

The initial premise of the drama is that you can't have "forbidden love" in an m/f relationship. First of all, William Shakespeare would like to have a word with you regarding Romeo and Juliet. Second of all, yes you fucking can. See also: Religious and cultural differences and human history for a starting point. I know it may be hard to touch grass and look at media that is not tumblr queer media-centric and understand that people who are NOT you might enjoy it very much. Note that I'm a queer person saying this and I do read or watch m/f media at times because I don't like limiting myself. Go watch Bajirao Mastani and enjoy one of the most beautiful movies about forbidden love ever produced.

The book itself falls into the medical romance subgenre. For those not familiar, these are romances (usually m/f) that often involve a healthcare worker and their patient. In the real world, where people touch grass, a healthcare worker like me having a relationship with their patient is such a huge ethical violation that it will get you fired. In Darkest Corner, James is Maddie's physical therapist because she's a ballerina with a sports injury and he is treating her. Ergo, it is forbidden for them to get together and the initial premise for mocking this book is on very shaky ground.

In fact, I'd go as far as to say that the folks mocking it seem to very likely not be familiar with romance novels and their subgenres at all, or else they'd be well aware of the concept of straight romances marketed as a "forbidden romance" because they're fucking everywhere on any place that sells romance books. I have a personal collection of over 14,500 kindle ebooks. While not all of those are romances, a good chunk of them are, so I think I can count myself as a bit of a source here, you know?

The fake screenshot and social media drama has spread to at least Twitter, Tumblr, and BookTok, which all have huge reader hobbyists. For a small-time author barely past her debut novel's publication, allegations of this sort tied to your author name and book titles can last on the internet and in web searches for a long, long time, hurting an author's career. Maybe you're like "boohoo, who cares about their careers, I pirate all my fiction books anyway" and well, a post like this was probably never going to convince you of anything. I'm talking to the folks who might still have a sense of shame and self-reflection. Authors, even authors tied to a Big 5's imprint, earn peanuts. This sort of manufactured "scandal" is not ideal when the book is weeks away from being published. In fact, if the book has fewer sales than the first book in the series, Simon & Schuster may have legal grounds to go after the person who made the fake screenshot. A smarter person would have kept that to the groupchat or posted it as a clearly marked fanfic on AO3.

As a reader, this also sucks because when shit like this happens, the reviews of a book are permanently biased by both the bombers and the fans of the author, no matter how good or bad the book ends up being. Do I know if this book will be a 1-star or 5-star now, based on the reviews? Nope. Will I read it? No, because I don't read medical romances as it's a squick for me. But I may read her first book, which has mercifully escaped most of the social media nonsense.

This isn't the first time booktwt/booktok/booklr has engaged in a similar mob mentality towards books they don't like and I doubt it'll be the last. See Blood Heir by Amélie Wen Zhao and the allegations that turned out to be false then, too. However, I would like to ask y'all to please check your sources and not blindly accept what someone says on social media as truth. Get used to doing the research because manufactured misinformation is everywhere, and it's not gonna get better. (And for fuck's sake, not everyone is gonna like the same books and fandoms you like! It's not illegal to enjoy reading different things!)

Screenshots/Evidence (click for better resolution):

[duolcier]

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✧ i strictly only write black!fem!reader. as a black woman, i feel as though there isn't enough representation for us in the fanfic community as a whole and it's genuinely frustrating to me. so don't ever request me to write for anything other than black!fem!reader. there's so much out there that caters to you, but unfortunately this blog doesn't (i'm talking to you, white women!!! love y'all down, though).

✧ requests are always open unless explicitly stated otherwise. trust that i see all requests, so there's no need to double send. when requesting, give me just enough to work with. if you are bland with your request (or it just plainly doesn't make any sense), dont expect it to get written by me. i don't write for anything outside of obx, so don't request anything outside of obx. sometimes i'm just lacking motivation/inspiration, so if i don't get to your request in a timely matter, i apologize but you have to recognize that i'm a normal ass person with emotions and feelings!! lastly, don't be a fucking weirdo and request anything to do with scatolia, vomit, etc. or i will doxx u. (kidding!!! maybe??? just don't request it)

✧ this is an 18+ blog!!! i'm gonna be so fucking realistic right now, half of the mfs on this platform are minors, so i'm well aware that this will go in one ear and out the other, but you can't say i didn't warn you!! i'm in no way responsible for what you consume on my blog.

✧ this is a dark blog. my content is nsfw and i do write for eyebrow raising tropes (including, but not limited to, stepcest, revenge porn, dubcon), so consider this a fair warning. speaking of, i do include warnings at the beginning of a post, so you'll never be caught off guard. like i stated before, i'm not responsible for your media consumption. read with caution.

✧ saying this now so no one has any excuses: DO NOT REPUBLISH MY WORKS ANYWHERE UNDER ANY DIFFERENT NAME. if i see any of my original works elsewhere (such as wattpad, ao3, etc) i will accuse you of plagiarism. my works are to stay on this tumblr page (duolcier) and this tumblr page only. the writings i make are a product of my creativeness and imagination, and it will hurt me to the core if they were to be stolen. i frankly don't care if credit is given, respect my boundaries and don't be a cunt.

✧ one thing i will not stand for is criticism. if it's constructive, that's a whole different ballpark, but if you're hating just because you have the time of day, please go clock in STAT!! hate on my works will not be tolerated and i will go back and forth with you. if something on my page is bothering you, leave? if you're letting something so miniscule such as a piece of FANFICTION offend you, i think a moment of self reflection is in order because this is honestly beyond both of us. block me, ignore me, trust that you're doing us both a favor.

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DAMN THIS HO GOT A MOUTH ON HER!!! i know stfu