#but I’m trying to decide which to finish first

[hqbaby]

twenty-two — right and wrong

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 3k content. profanity, alcohol consumption

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Everyone has just finished unloading their bags. More than a few of your friends are already zooming through the place you’ve rented for the next three days, soaking in its beauty. It’s a pretty house, a cozy spot with three bedrooms and a nice open living room with a fireplace and a bunch of soft chairs and couches. There’s a kitchen that you doubt you’ll use, Kento already unpacking the cases of beer you bought for the trip and Maki stocking the fridge with enough food to feed an army.

You’re standing in the foyer with Sukuna at your side. When he speaks, he has his head bent in shame, his eyes shifting away from yours. What could he have to say?

You frown. “What is it?”

He looks at you, his expression supplicating. “You promise you won’t leave me?”

“You’re scaring me,” you say, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. “Sukuna, what is it?”

He takes your hands in his and shakes his head. “This is serious,” he tells you. “You gotta promise.”

“Okay,” you say, nodding with uncertainty. “Tell me. What is it?”

He leans in close, looking around to see if anyone else is listening. Then, he whispers, “I’ve never skied before.”

You snort, erupting into laughter as your boyfriend pouts at your response. He turns to walk away, but you grab his arm, trying your best to calm down. “I’m sorry,” you say, between hiccups. “I just—that was not what I was expecting.”

He shakes his head, putting you in a headlock and mussing your hair as you continue to giggle. “You’re so mean,” he says, laughing now as well. Your laughter is infectious, and Sukuna’s never been immune to it. “You’re gonna have to teach me because I’m gonna look like an idiot in front of your friends.”

“What’s so funny?” Maki asks as she approaches you, already smiling at just how loud your laughter is. Mahito follows after her, slinging his arm around her shoulder which she quickly escapes. “Holy shit, get off of me.”

The boy sticks his tongue out at her. “You’re no fun.”

“And you have no concept of personal space,” Maki tells him. When Sukuna lets you go, she stands behind you like a little kid hiding from her bully. “Don’t let him get near me.”

You shoot her a glance, then a devilish grin overcomes your features and you’re bolting away. “Sorry, Maki! Every man for himself!”

Soon, you and Maki are running for your lives as Mahito attempts to catch the two of you, all three of you panting through your laughter. Sukuna watches as you and your friend decide to team up and turn on the boy, tackling him to the ground and demanding that he surrender. He can’t help but stare at you, your grin bright against the backdrop of snow, dazzling and picturesque.

He remembers when you first met, when he found you on the rooftop of the building. It was like you were waiting for something to happen, that you were hoping that things would change. He doesn’t know what propelled him to approach you, but he knows that it was something he needed to do. It was as if he had no other choice.

Meeting you that afternoon was always the way it was supposed to be. It was fate—if Sukuna let himself believe in such a thing.

Mahito eventually manages to drag himself away from you and Maki, running behind Sukuna to use him as a human shield. “That girlfriend of yours,” he lets out a low whistle, “she’s absolutely feral.”

You throw one of your gloves at the boy and make a face. “I’m feral?” you ask as you and Maki approach the two boys. “Says the guy who ate all the food in the club office fridge with my name on them.”

“All food in the fridge is for sharing!” he tried to reason, dodging your attempts at pulling his hair by placing Sukuna in front of him. “I’m gonna tell Kento you’re trying to attack me.”

You gasp. “You would not.”

Mahito grins now, baring his teeth as he sprints away and into the house. “Try and stop me!”

You try to chase after him, but Sukuna wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to him. You glance over at your boyfriend, pretending to make a look of protest as you sink into his touch.

“I can’t believe you’re helping Mahito,” you whine, turning to face him. You cup his cheeks and pout. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Maki says, turning to follow after Mahito. As she walks away, she calls out to you, “Don’t fuck in the snow!”

Sukuna presses his nose to yours. “I wonder what constitutes as fucking.”

You chuckle, closing your eyes as you wrap your arms around his neck. The two of you stay there for a moment, holding each other close, swaying to the beat of a song only the two of you can hear. You’re both in your own little world right now, a snow-covered utopia that belongs to no one else but you and Sukuna.

You open your eyes and you find his still closed as he shifts his weight from leg to leg, gently moving you along with the breeze. Your eyes trace the curve of his nose, the bow of his lip, the sliver of a scar on his forehead from that one time the two of you jumped into a lake and things didn’t turn out as you had planned. His face is a face you’ve seen countless times before, a face you’ve known before you even truly knew yourself.

This is Sukuna, you tell yourself. Sukuna in all his mess, in all his boyish charm. Sukuna, the boy you’ve known for years now. Sukuna, your best friend.

“‘Kuna,” you whisper, letting one hand run over the side of his head.

His eyes open and he stares at you, a look you’ve now come to recognize as his unwavering love for you. “Yeah, tiger?”

You take a deep breath, letting the words fill you before you allow them to slip out. “I love you,” you tell him, the words dripping into the small span of air between the two of you.

He looks surprised for a moment before his features soften into recognition. “You mean it this time.”

You furrow your brows. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve never meant it before,” he tells you softly. He squeezes your hips and smiles. “Don’t lie to me. I know you didn’t mean it.”

You swallow, nodding hesitantly. “I wasn’t sure,” you say quietly. “But I am now. I think I am.”

He raises one hand to your face and brushes your cheek with his fingers. “Thank you,” he tells you. Then he bursts into a grin. “I love you too. In case you didn’t know already.”

You giggle, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “You’re so stupid.”

“Whatcha looking at?” Nobara asks, popping up behind Kento to startle him. She laughs when he jumps a little, turning to frown at her. She peers over his shoulder at the view from the window. Her eyes widen in realization. “Oh shit. Sorry.”

Kento frowns. “What the fuck are you apologizing for?”

She rolls her eyes, unconvinced by whatever act he thinks he’s pulling off. “Everyone knows, Kento,” she tells him. “You’re not very good at hiding it.”

The man walks away, pretending like he doesn’t hear Nobara calling after him, and disappears into one of the rooms in the house. Nobara sighs, turning to look back out the window at you and Sukuna, your boyfriend now hoisting you onto his shoulders as you shriek in protest, the two of you laughing as he carries you into the house.

She has to admit it’s been a while since she’s seen you this happy. While you and Satoru were good for each other for the longest time, the last bit of your relationship had you stuck in a state of both guilt and despair. She hasn’t seen you smile this much in a long time.

“They look happy, don’t they?”

Nobara turns to find Naoya looking over her shoulder. She scowls at him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he asks innocently. “We all want what’s best for her, don’t we?”

She hums, crossing her arms over her chest. “And what would you say is best for her?”

“Oh, we already know that,” he tells her, a glint in his eye. He and Nobara turn to the front door as you and Sukuna stumble inside. “And she knows it too. She just refuses to accept it.”

Nobara grabs his arm, leading him away from you and your boyfriend. She shoots him a warning look. “Leave her alone, Naoya,” she tells him, voice low. “You already messed with her once.”

He shakes his head. “Let’s not forget,” he whispers, eyes flitting over to the foyer where you and Sukuna are changing out of your boots, “I didn’t do it all on my own. She did it too.”

You’re in the kitchen with Utahime and Maki, waiting for a giant pot of instant ramen to cook. It turns out that, even far away from campus, there is no way to truly escape it—instant ramen follows you everywhere.

The three of you are happily buzzed, the first bottles of beers having been passed around a few minutes ago. Maki is standing behind you, holding your back to her chest, resting her chin on your shoulder, a lazy grin on her face as the two of you listen to Utahime rant about some girl she was talking to who ended up ghosting her for a week.

“What department is she from?” you ask, waving your bottle around more than you probably would if you weren’t tipsy. “I’ll hunt her down.”

Utahime sighs, dropping her head. “She’s a music major.”

Maki clicks her tongue. “She doesn’t deserve you then.”

“Here, here!” you say, raising your bottle. The two girls clink theirs against it. “We should set you up with someone. Do you want a guy this time?”

“What about one of the guys on this trip,” Maki suggests.

Utahime shakes her head. “Nuh-uh,” she says. She looks at you. “They’re either your ex, in love with you, or obsessed with you. No way I’m jumping into that mess.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “What?” you wheeze. “That’s not true at all!”

“She’s right,” Maki chimes in, digging her chin deeper into your shoulder. She laughs as you attempt to push her head away. “Aoi has no interest in her whatsoever. Mahito too.”

“And Kento, and Naoya, and Suguru, and absolutely everyone else,” you say, reaching behind you to pinch Maki’s side.

She jumps back, pulling her arms away from you. “So defensive,” she says, pouting as she rubs the spot you pinched.

Utahime laughs and turns to the stove to stir the pot. “This is almost done.”

“Yay! Food!” you cheer, walking over to the cupboard to pull out some bowls. “What are the chances that the boys won’t just eat the ramen directly from the pot?”

“Depends on how hungry they are,” Maki says, hopping onto the counter beside you.

As you count out enough bowls for everyone—Maki unhelpfully messing with your count by calling out random numbers—the kitchen door opens. Kimi stands at the door, an apologetic smile on her face.

“Sorry, it’s just… they took out the Twister and I really didn’t want to play,” she says. “Is it okay if I just sit here for a bit?”

You smile and nod at the kitchen table. “Of course,” you tell her. “Go make yourself comfortable. We were just talking.”

“Thanks,” Kimi says. Her eyes flick over to your wrist then back at you. “I love your bracelet.”

You glance down. “Oh, thank you,” you say, a soft laugh escaping you. “This is actually Nobara’s. I don’t think she’s noticed that it’s missing just yet.”

Kimi grins. “I won’t tell.”

You turn back to counting the bowls and Maki joins Kimi at the table. “You’re on the cheer team, right?” she asks her. “I’ve seen you guys perform a few times. You’re really good.”

Kimi hums, visibly relaxing at the welcome she’s received from your group. If she’s being honest, she was worried you’d just throw her out, ask her to leave as soon as she stepped inside. Her eyes glance over at you, quietly picking the utensils out of the drawer, and she wonders why she was worried in the first place. You may be her boyfriend’s ex, but you’ve never been a mean person. There’s no reason for you to start treating her badly now.

The four of you chat about everything and nothing, asking about what classes you plan on taking for the next term, which professors to avoid, which ones to take. You get to know more about Kimi and she becomes less and less of the fractured image of “Satoru’s current girlfriend” that you had in your head and more of an actual person.

It isn’t long before you’re sitting at the table with her, all of you talking about your plans after graduation, the uncertainty of the future. Your hopes. Your dreams. Your doubts.

“I’m never getting married,” Utahime says, turning the stove off. “I just don’t see it happening.”

You nod, cracking open a beer and handing it to Maki. “I understand that.”

Kimi tilts her head, looking at you. “You don’t think you’ll get married?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I didn’t exactly have the perfect model for marriage growing up. My parents are… well, my parents. Their relationship was always a mess. I don’t know if I see myself going through that.”

“Not to mention your shitty commitment issues,” Maki says. The alcohol has loosened her tongue a little, and she knows that on any other occasion, she wouldn’t have said that, but here she is.

You roll your eyes, shoving her shoulder. You don’t blame her though, she has a point.

“What shitty commitment issues?” Utahime asks, frowning as if not knowing about the inner workings of your psyche has somehow left her out of the loop.

You shake your head. “It’s nothing,” you say. “Just a general tendency to run away from difficult things.”

“Now, that I understand,” Kimi says. She’s also clearly a little tipsy now too. “My sister’s like that. Left a guy at the altar because she realized she couldn’t stand seeing his hair in the drain.”

You all laugh. “That’s a bit extreme, but she’s got the spirit,” you say.

Utahime picks up the pot of ramen and nods at the door to the dining room. “Time to feed the kids,” she says, following after Maki who opens the door for her.

You and Kimi get caught behind for a minute as Utahime takes care not to spill the food. You look over at Kimi and offer her a smile, more familiar now, not just the usual polite kind that you always give her.

“I’m glad we got to talk,” you tell her.

She gapes, surprised by your sudden statement. “Yeah,” she says after she’s gotten over the initial shock. “I’m really glad too.”

You push the door open for her. “I’m happy Satoru found you,” you tell her. “You’re exactly what he deserves.”

Before she can say anything back, Sukuna is showing up at your side, dragging you away to talk about how he crushed everyone else at Twister.

“Hey.” Satoru. “You good?”

He wraps his arm around her shoulder and squeezes her to his side. He blinks at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

She clears her throat and nods, leaning into his touch. “Yeah,” she says, the corners of her lips lifting into a smile. “I’m good.”

Her eyes catch on you in the corner, curled up in your boyfriend’s lap as the two of you laugh about something or other. She looks over at Satoru, holding her tight, talking to Suguru about whether or not they forgot to turn off the light in their living room before they left, and she thinks, Maybe this is right. Maybe this is exactly how this is all supposed to be.

After dinner, you all gather in the living room, scattered in different seats. A few of you are nursing beers, a few have tapped out for the night, a few have started on some bottles of hard alcohol that you begged Kento to buy for the trip.

You’re on the couch in front of the fireplace with Maki and Nobara, Sukuna seated on the floor in front of you as you weave tiny braids in his hair. “We should do something fun,” you suggest to everyone, drawing their attention.

“What’s a fun game?” Aoi wonders aloud.

“Spin the bottle!” Mahito suggests.

You make a face. “That’s so high school.”

“Seven minutes in heaven!”

“That’s so much worse,” Maki says, tossing a throw pillow at Mahito. “You’re banned from suggesting anything else.”

“Oh! I know!” Nobara jumps up from her seat. “Hide-and-seek!”

Utahime raises her hand. “I vote for that.”

You follow. “Me too!” you say, nudging your boyfriend. “You have to agree, babe.”

Sukuna springs into action. “Oh, yeah, I wanna play hide-and-seek!”

“You won’t play my games, but you’ll play hide-and-seek?” Mahito says, sulking as everyone starts to agree as well. He lets out a defeated sigh and nods. “Fine, I’ll play hide-and-seek too.”

“Great!” you say, clapping your hands together. “So who’s gonna seek?”

notes. i’m just gonna… leave this here… and run away 🏃‍♀️‍➡️

[puppyxprincess]

Training Logs, Entry #2

6/23/24

I’m happy to report that her training has been a continued success.

The subject is eagerly submissive to me, her dedication grows in intensity with every passing day.

Our baseline levels of trust have far exceeded my expectations for her, which I attribute to her sharp judge of character. She has deemed me “safe” and has in turn, handed herself over to me willingly. I’m gaining a strong appreciation for subjects so happy to be trained.

I just concluded a rather impromptu training session, the subject requested I ask her some questions to further my knowledge on hypnosis, utilizing her existing stores of information on the subject. She suggested i drop her, making her incredibly tired and deep in trance before asking these questions, to see if she could recall our conversation in full.

At first I was intimidated, I must be transparent. An impromptu session stripped away my ability to be prepared for anything, to have my goals and path mapped out, my triggers pre-planned, all of it, gone. I almost told her no, I wasn’t feeling up to it, I couldn’t possibly engage in anything successfully. Better to wait than risk damaging progress, damaging her faith in my abilities, is how i reasoned with myself.

But something possessed me. Maybe it was the two drinks i’d just finished, maybe it was my intuition, my unwillingness to let the opportunity slip out of my hands.

I agreed to her request, how could i deny an eager puppy the chance to train?

I set up my equipment and took a deep breath. I began my greetings, already donning that syrupy, lilting tone reserved near exclusively for her, and I hoped inspiration would strike me.

I asked about her favorite inductions, how to decide on one, how to avoid falling into routine and allowing it to become predictable.

She began to explain using some comparison to a math concept I couldn’t really grasp, but I began to understand her point when an idea appeared to me.

Previously, my pet had mentioned to me that the bell jingling on my cat’s collar worked as an “ears perked” sort of effect. Instantly capturing her focus and drawing it to my words.

I removed the cat’s collar and shook gently it a few times near the mic. The puppy immediately lost her words, it was so wonderful to see. I prompted the pet to continue, but only let her get a few words out before i let the bell chime again. She lost her train of thought, immediately becoming focused on the sound of the bell, her thoughts slipping from her mind.

It was hard not to laugh, seeing the composed, intellectual subject immediately reduced to a brainless puppy. The efficacy was truly shocking.

I took the opportunity to wield her focus against her, knowing her predisposition would be to go deeper, to agree with anything i might suggest.

“Do you even remember the point you were trying to make?”

“Can you even answer my questions, pup?” The subject clung to the explanation that she could, but that she was just so focused on me, it was hard to let anything else take precedence.

“Doesn’t it seem like it would be so much nicer to put all that aside and be a Silly Puppy for me instead?”

At this point, her responses consisted only of an eager “mhm!” or two, if she was feeling very excited by the suggestion.

I interspersed the jingling bell over any pauses, increasing her focus on me each time. This began to work so well she stopped being able to respond. At this point, I asked the subject if she’d prefer to remain under and fall asleep, or if I should bring her back up. She requested “Up,” so after a few more moments i began to bring her out of trance.

The subject was still dazed when she began to communicate her amazement at my insecurity, even going as far as to ask if I had been joking, fully aware of my ability to drop her so quickly and effectively.

I laughed, assuring her that the entire session had been unprepared, allowing my ego to swell at the high praise from my far-more-experienced subject.

Over a brief discussion of the session, as my pet spoke to me, I couldn’t resist the urge to use the bell against her again. She slipped back down easily, blindly obedient once more.

After playing with my favorite subject a bit more, I brought her back to herself, and had to force myself to stay quiet. Every time I opened my mouth I pushed her back into that sharp focus and her brain into a state of arousal that rendered her unable to sleep.

One of the last things we talked about before I finally allowed her to rest was how towards the very beginning, when she first lost her train of thought, she found it difficult to grasp what she had been speaking about even once out of trance.

Something of note regarding this pet is that she has often recounted how ineffective memory impacting trances have been for her, likely due to her history of hypervigilance and perceived need to protect herself. Communicating that my spontaneous session may have allowed even a small memory to slip out of her grasp has emboldened me to try again and test my skills with a more overt memory play session with her.

It definitely serves my purposes that she’s so eager to hand over full control to me, not one ounce of doubt or distrust towards me present in her pretty little mind.

My next goal has been set: Make the puppy forget something.

I think it will prove easy enough.

[lyfeofbilly]

Lipstick

riri williams x reader

warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff!

summary: when boredom strikes in the middle of a makeup session, you can't help but to find a way to annoy your girlfriend.

author's note: hey y'all! this is my first fic ever so I'm super proud of it, hope you like it pookies <3.

taglist: @koffeesfancy @bubbleblowinggirl

The weekend had finally approached and you and Riri were currently relaxing in your dorm room. Both of you were caught up on assignments so it was an uneventful day to say the least. To counteract your boredom, you decide to do your makeup. Though you had no plans on going anywhere, it was entertaining to play with different makeup looks in your spare time. As you sat at your desk, Riri sprawled over your bed playing her PS5. She cursed occasionally whenever she would end up losing- which was majority of the time.

Riri kissed her teeth, “Man these niggas cheating.” She grumbles as she tosses the controller next to her.

You smirked. Riri always blamed her losses on cheating, not the fact that she was terrible at the game. Moments pass before you glance at Riri and back at the lipliner that you held in your hand. You smirked before swiveling your chair towards the bed. “Ri?” You call her name, a hint of mischief in your tone.

She cuts her eyes at you, eyebrows cocked. “Whatever you finna ask, no.”

“You don’t even know what I was about to ask!” You retorted, trying to stifle the laugh that was threatening to come out.

An amused expression was plastered on her face, “And that is?”

Your laugh finally broke, “Can I do your makeup?”

“Absolutely not!” She turned her body to face you fully, "The hell I look like wearing a full face of makeup anyways?"

“Ri please?” You beg. Your girlfriend was never one to wear a full face of makeup. She rocked a bare face most days, greased up with sunscreen and Vaseline. If she did feel like wearing makeup lip gloss, a brow pencil, and a bit of blush were her best friends. A full beat was never Riri's cup of tea, she thought she looked like a damn clown.

You cheese, hoping you could convince her, "Baby it’ll be fun, I promise.”

Riri sits for a moment before agreeing to your proposition. She knew you’d keep asking until she said yes. You could ask her to do anything she would let it happen. She kisses her teeth, “Aight, but just this one time. This stays between us dammit."

You cheer and gather your products from the desk and sat them on your bed. Riri slightly shakes her head and wonders what she got herself into.

“You sure this my shade? Ion wanna look crazy.” This was the hundredth question that Riri had asked in the last ten minutes and it began to drive you crazy. You slightly roll your eyes, “Girl I’m almost done, you look fine.”

You straddled Riri as you did her makeup. That girl couldn't stay still to save her life. Squirmish could not begin to describe how much she would move.

Ri smirks and kneads your backside in her strong hands, "Fine? I wanna look as pretty as you mama.”

“Ri hush, this the last step.” You go to reach for your mascara and Riri sits up. “Hell nah, I’m not putting that on.”

You laugh at her reaction. She always found putting on mascara creepy, she hated things that were close to her eyes. Watching you put it on made her cringe. “It’s only mascara, stay still.”

She moves her head as you get closer with the mascara wand, "You gotta put that on me? I’d rather just wear some lashes.”

Your grip on her face got a bit tighter as you tried to hold her face steady, “Stay still, you gone make me poke your eye out.”

“Man ma, gone with allat!” Ri whined as she squirmed under you.

“Riana.” You say sternly, she was being a big baby about some mascara. Although her little tantrum was cute, she had a habit of overreacting about certain things.

Riri huffs in annoyance, “Just hurry up with that.”

You finished her mascara within five minutes, despite her constant squirming and question of "Are you done yet?". She looked pretty wearing makeup, you wondered why she didn't wear it more often. A solid routine would suit her extremely well.

"You big baby, it wasn't even that bad."

Riri rolls her eyes and grabs the compact mirror from the side of her, examining your work. She cracked a small smile looking at herself. Riri didn't exactly hate wearing a full face of makeup, she was too lazy to attempt to do it every day.

"I look good as fuck, wait a minute." She laughed while she turned her head in the mirror. "You should do my makeup more often, ma."

You closed the mascara tube and shook your head while you snickered. "And deal with your whining for thirty minutes? Yea no."

"C'mon I wasn't even that bad!"

You brushed her off and picked up the chocolate brown lip liner, "Pucker your lips, we're almost done."

"Damn we still ain't done? This why it takes you so long to get ready?"

You leaned in closer, "Girl pucker your damn lips!"

"Gimmie kiss first baby" Riri sheepishly smiled, her big brown eyes looking up at you. "Your lip gloss shit looks cute."

"You mean my lip combo Ri?"

Riri smiled, "Man whatever you call it, just give me a lil kiss."

You rolled your eyes at the shorter girl before leaning down and planting a soft, tender kiss on her lips, "Happy now?"

Riri grinned before slightly nodding. "Yep, now our lip combos match mama."

"Yea just one last step." You smirked before practically drowning Riri in setting spray.

"What the hell ma?!?"

[projectbluearcadia]

Well-Deserved Rest

NSFW Sub!Lucifer x GN!MC Spice Rating - 3/4 ; BDSM Rating 0/3

[ Premise - Lucifer is all stressed out again, and you’ve decided that you’re going to make him unwind by taking control and spoiling the shit out of him. ]

Lucifer makes me sub... but sub!Luci makes me want to dom his ass.

CW: None, really? One spank, Lucifer receiving.

Wordcount - 2546

smutty notes (consult if you haven’t read my smut before.)

“Lucifer?” you say in shock as you watch the oldest brother, not even wearing his waistcoat or his gloves in the kitchen. His sleeves are hiked up to his elbows, his crimson tie missing. He gazes at you for a long moment, just as he reaches the coffee grinder, and the stress in his eyes momentarily seems to ease before he looks away. 

“Morning,” he mumbles, filling the grinder with fresh beans, and the machine hums quietly before the sound of coffee being ground fills the air, along with its wonderful scent. 

“Lucifer… did you even sleep?” you ask, and at first, you think he’s ignoring you, and on the off-chance that he couldn’t hear you over the grinder, you decide to wait until it’s finished. “Lucifer. Did you sleep?” 

“What? Oh… I think I did?” He takes the grounds out, pushing them into a neat little puck before packing it into the espresso machine. 

“You think?” you ask. “If you’re not going to sleep next to me, the least you can do is actually take more than a power nap. Seriously; this is getting ridiculous. You should not be getting up in the middle of the night to do work, much less pulling all-nighters.” 

“I’ve gone for more than a month with less than an hour of sleep; I’ll be fine,” he mumbles, taking his coffee cup out from underneath the machine. “I don’t need you to mind me like I’m some kind of child. I know where my limits are.” 

You fold your arms at him, half-tempted to actually yell at him with frustration. Though you’ve been getting him to fix some of his unhealthy habits, R.A.D. loves throwing a wrench in the works, whether it’s Diavolo, the students, his brothers, or diplomatic meetings. 

“Hey!” you protest as Lucifer starts walking off with his coffee, and he pauses to look back at you. 

“I have to go back to work, MC. Later?” Meaning, I will not discuss this with you now, and I’m going whether you want me to or not; be content with the fact that you’ve seen me at all today. 

“You’d better come to bed tonight, Lucifer,” you growl at him, and he softly chuckles. “By 11 P.M. If you’re not there, I’m going to drag you there by force.” 

“Yes, honey, I’ll come to bed. So greedy…” His voice trails off as he travels out of earshot, and you grumble a retort. I’m going to make sure you have a proper rest, you son of a bitch. 

—

You’re sitting in front of Lucifer’s fireplace, reading one of Satan’s book recommendations when you hear Lucifer knock on the frame of his bedroom door..

“Here I am, as requested,” Lucifer says, and you hear his leather oxfords briefly clack against the wooden floor before muffling against his rug. Then he’s behind your chair, pulling his hands over yours, leaning his head down to kiss your temple. “Come on… don’t be mad at me,” he whispers sweetly, rubbing your arms up and down. “I know it’s been a lonely week, so let’s go out for some quality time on Sunday.” Lucifer kisses your cheek, teasing your bookmark from your fingers and closing your book on it. “Maybe we can go shopping… or maybe we can see a show… go to your favorite restaurant for dinner…” He drags his lips against the back of your ear, his voice lowering by an octave. “Have lots of sex when we get home… how does that sound, darling?” 

“I’m still mad at you,” you reply, and he pauses, his mouth opening to try to butter you up some more, but you don’t let him. “If you want me to stop being mad, I get to torture you when I fuck you tonight.” It’s not an unreasonable request per se, considering you’ve topped him before. It’s just not one that Lucifer expects you to ask so bluntly, which is why he doesn’t answer you for several uncomfortably long moments. 

“Do whatever you please with me then,” he responds, finally, and you get up to turn and look back at him. Surprisingly enough, he looks a little nervous, and you barely stop yourself from launching at him in a fit of cuteness aggression. “Am I allowed to touch you this time…?” God, fuck, stop me from ripping his clothes off; I want to tease him. 

“Yes,” you reply after a moment, “but you’re not allowed to switch to being dominant halfway through doing that. That means not taking advantage of your demon strength.” 

“I agreed to this; I want to make it up to you,” Lucifer concedes softly, loosely pulling his arms around your lower back. “I’ll be your stress toy tonight, okay?” Oh, honey, that is far from what I have planned.

“That’s my good little demon,” you murmur, rubbing his head slowly, and a faint blush scatters over his cheeks at the praise. He opens his mouth to ask a question, but you cut him off as you push your lips against his, a soft groan leaving his mouth as you pull his hair and dominate his tongue. His fingers stray under your shirt, caressing the skin of your back with deliberate slowness as if he needed to savor every second he was allowed to touch you. 

“Mn,” he grunts into your mouth as you tease your fingers up his inner thigh, teasing him until his hands stiffen, struggling to restrain himself from picking you up on his waist and carrying you to bed. “Ugh,” he gasps, breaking from your lips as you rub the palm of your hand against his rapidly growing bulge. “MC…”

“Remember what I told you, Lucifer,” you murmur against his lips before you shut him up, lightly tucking your fingertips underneath his shirt, stroking up his navel, into the crevice of his abdominal muscles. He relaxes a little with this little motion of yours, only to make a startled sound into your mouth as a high-pitched zip! hits the air. “You’re already like this?” you murmur against his ear as you run your thumb over his cock, straining to escape his underwear. You can feel Lucifer’s skin running hotter as you do so, his breath getting shorter. “Good boy.” 

“Hah…” Lucifer gasps softly before he mumbles a soft protest. 

“Oh? Then why’d your little soldier respond so eagerly, hm?” you tease, and a faint blush scatters over his cheeks as you take your time freeing his cock from its clothy confinement. It even starts to drip little white tears of gratitude. 

“...because evidently, I liked it,” he admits with a bit of an embarrassed chuckle. 

“You’re adorable,” you murmur sweetly, wrapping your hand around his member and half debating whether or not you wanted to wipe that calm look off his face by pushing him onto the bed and sucking on it. No, no, MC, work up to that. Make him orgasm in progressively more exciting ways. 

“Right back at you,” Lucifer replies, breathless as he watches you intently, his hands rubbing your waist up and down, up and down. “And incredibly fucking tempting.” He squeezes your hips, a naughty grunt slipping past his teeth when you give his wanting tip some special attention.

“But you’re very good at resisting, aren’t you, darling? You’re doing so well, Lucifer.” 

“Shit,” he groans before you kiss him again, stroking him much harder, and an almost needy moan sinks into your mouth. Ugh, I want to make him cum his brains out. “Mnn… mmm…” You can feel how close he is just by his kiss as he stops all forms of playful resistance, his lip twitching faintly as he tries not to close his mouth. His erection is just as antsy, right about ready to burst. 

“Go on, sweetheart. Cum for me,” you whisper against his lips, panting, before you swallow his soft, reluctant moan as he coats your hand in his sticky, off-white semen. “See? You’re a good boy, Lucifer.” You ruffle your clean hand into his hair, and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes and blushing badly at his own actions. His tired face already looks relaxed. “Come on. Let’s go sit on the bed.” 

And, as if to get back at you for how embarrassed he was, he unexpectedly squeezes your ass—hard—in both hands. You almost yelp, and you smack his ass in return, making him chuckle as you shake your hand with a wince. 

He does not protest as you push him onto the edge of the bed, his lips parted as if waiting for another kiss, and you decide to grant his wish. He deserves some thorough spoiling for all that work he does. 

“Take your shirt off for me,” you order, and as he does so after a moment of hesitation, you finally pay some attention to your white-slicked hand. Without breaking eye contact with Lucifer, you lick his semen off, watching him grip his covers while his demon form starts to slip out at the undoubtedly crude sight. 

“MC, please… if you don’t want me to attack you right now, tie me up,” he grinds out as you suck two fingers slowly before letting them pop out of your mouth. “I can’t restrain myself for this.” 

“Yes, you can,” you soothe, laying your hands on his thighs. “But if you want me to get the rope out from under the bed, that’s a different story…” You lean towards his ear to bite the shell. “Your cum is very thick and rich, by the way.” 

You can tell, as you lean back, that he’s so close to snapping and railing you into oblivion that he’s nearly glaring at you with lust. If your sex wasn’t dripping before, it is now. 

“I don’t want you to,” he mumbles, slowly relaxing his muscles, one by one. “But I do want to be… obedient for you.” He has to grind out the last words, his face flushing a little again as he averts his eyes from yours. 

“But you’re already being so obedient,” you reply gently, kissing his neck. “Being my perfect demon. Don’t be so hard on yourself, honey. You’re doing just fine.” A rewarding little groan slips out of his throat, and you kiss down to his collarbone, offering him a gentle nibble. 

“MC, I really can’t do this,” he rasps out as you rub your fingers up and down his chest, going around to his back to rub firm little circles on his lower back. You wordlessly and gently hush him with the finger of your other hand as he tries to continue before you lower your head again to kiss near one of his nipples. You desperately wish in that second that he liked it when you toyed with them, but alas… 

Despite the fact that Lucifer fully shifts into his demon form as he loses patience, he doesn’t act on it as you work your way down his midsection, down his pretty abs. He is, however, much stiffer than you’d prefer, so you make sure to shower him with some extra praise for being so good for you. 

“That’s right, Lucifer. You’re doing it all by yourself.” You kiss his v-line. “I’m proud of you.” 

“Dammit, don’t do that to me,” he moans, covering his mouth. “Please don’t do what I hope you’re doing.” You almost laugh at him for purposely denying himself pleasure; there would be none of that tonight. 

“Why not?” you purr, your cheek practically rubbing his swollen, rosy-headed penis. His wings cutely flutter at the contact. “I want seconds… while it’s still hot.” You kiss his base, and one of his hands tangles into your hair, the veins on his forearm sharply standing out as he stopped himself from pulling. His expression screeches at you, screeches, that he wants to fill your mouth up so much that his seed will flow down your chin. Dear God, why did you make this sexy creature and piss him off? I mean, more for me, but still. “Can you do that for me, you absurdly sexy bastard?” Didn’t mean to add that last part, but I guess he liked that.

“Fuck me,” he groans obscenely as you kiss his tip, looking up at him. 

“Your moans are doing an excellent job of making me ready to fuck you, darling,” you rumble before you hornily close your lips around the tip of his cock, giving it a nice, long suck before you start taking more of it. More, until he’s hitting the back of your throat, and you moan softly onto him, restraining yourself from distracting yourself by rubbing your throbbing sex. Your body is already screaming at you, but you want to make sure he’s nice and warmed up for the main event. 

Every movement of your tongue, every bob, every lick, every hollowing your cheeks makes Lucifer grunt, moan, and even whimper a little. Louder and filthier for you, as if he’s trying to beg for you to hurry up and fuck him without saying it. 

“Do you… like that, MC?” He smiles down at you, his cheeks still pink as he grips your hair harder at the root. “Do… you like my cock? How it feels…ugh… inside your mouth?” He just wants praise now. That’s really cute.

“Mmm hm,” you hum onto him, sucking him harder and making his breath catch. You moan onto him as you fondle his balls with one hand, making him tighten his hold on your hair. He can’t stop himself from bobbing your head a few times right before he splatters the inside of your mouth, his wings spreading wide and trembling. 

“MC!” he gasps out, panting as he watches you slowly let go of him, licking a streak off his length that escaped your mouth. When you swallow everything, he flops backwards into the bed, his eyes almost rolling back into his head before they refocus on the ceiling. For once, his thoughts are written on his face—that felt so fucking good; I needed this so bad… 

“I do love your cock, Lucifer,” you finally say, impatiently shedding your clothes, practically throwing them to the floor with annoyance. “It’s absolutely perfect for filling me the way I want it. And it feels amazing when it’s inside me.”

Lucifer ogles your body as you crawl on top of him, smiling before you kiss him again. He doesn’t seem to mind tasting himself as he hugs you close to him gratefully, almost crying as you cup his cheek. “You had a hard week, honey… You did such an excellent job like you always do, and I love you even when I don’t see you; you’re breathtaking from those horns down to your sweet personality…” You litter his neck with kisses. “Just let me take care of you tonight, okay?”

“Yes, please,” he groans before he goes right back to kissing you, his blissful tears spilling from the corners of his eyes, his hands rubbing your back. “Please praise me more… reward me. Make love to me; I need you.” 

“Finally asking for what you want,” you purr as you get ready to lower yourself onto him, kissing the corner of his lips. “Good boy.”

[haesunshin]

sunset serenade | LTY

pairing: taeyong x f!reader ft. bff jaehyun, johnny and haechan

word count. 4.3k

genre. university!au, classmates, angst, fluff, romance. enemies to friends to lovers

summary. Y/N navigates through the bustling halls of university life, surrounded by close friends Johnny, Haechan, and Jaehyun. Her world shifts when she's paired with Taeyong for a university project, despite a childhood marked by a painful separation. Initially fueled by mutual animosity, Y/N and Taeyong gradually uncover shared memories that reignite deep emotions. Through late-night study sessions and unexpected encounters, their hostility transforms into a tentative friendship, and eventually, an unexplainable attraction.

a/n. i'm sorry i haven't been as active i would want to be, but i came back with a new ff and i hope you will like it <3

feedbacks, likes and reposts are appreciated!

---

I jolt awake as my alarm reads 7:30 AM. Another day at university. I stretch, get up, and peek out the window. The campus is already alive with activity. I grab my bag and head out to meet my friends at the cafeteria.

As I enter the cafeteria, I immediately spot Haechan, Johnny, and Jaehyun sitting at our usual table. Haechan is engrossed in his phone, Johnny is telling a joke to Jaehyun, who is laughing heartily.

"Hey, everyone," I greet as I sit down with them.

"Hey, Y/N," Johnny replies with a smile. "Ready for another day of classes?"

"Please don’t even talk about it," I say, laughing. "So, what's new?"

"Not much," Haechan responds. "Just the same old stuff. Johnny's telling his lame jokes again."

"You know you love them," Johnny retorts, chuckling.

I smile and turn to Jaehyun. "And you? What's new?"

"Just looking forward to the end of this semester," he says. "I think we're all eager for a break."

We finish our breakfast, chatting about various things, before heading to our first class. On the way, I notice Johnny talking to a guy who looks strangely familiar. I squint, trying to place where I've seen him before, but nothing comes to mind.

"Who's that guy with Johnny?" Jaehyun asks, noticing my curiosity.

"I don't know," I answer. "But he does look familiar."

---

Walking into biochemistry class, I take my usual seat. Mr. Kim, our professor, enters the room with a stack of papers in hand. He smiles at the class before addressing us.

"Good morning, everyone. Today, we're starting a group project that will last the entire semester. I've already assigned the groups, so listen carefully."

I take a deep breath, hoping to be paired with one of my friends. Mr. Kim starts reading out the names, and my heart sinks when he announces:

"Y/N and Taeyong."

I look around, searching for Taeyong. When our eyes meet, I immediately notice the coldness in his gaze. He doesn't seem pleased at all to be paired with me, which leaves me puzzled.

"Hi," I say, approaching him after class.

"Hi," he responds curtly, not even looking up from his notebook.

"I guess we'll be working together," I say, trying to lighten the mood.

"Seems like it," he says without any warmth, leaving.

And I’m leftI wondering why he's so cold towards me, especially since he seems to be good friends with Johnny. What did I do to deserve this?

---

The first few weeks of our group project are tense. Taeyong and I struggle to get along and our meetings are often filled with silence and unspoken tension. We work in our dorms, in cafés, and at the library, but the atmosphere remains frosty.

One day, while chatting with Johnny, I decide to ask him about Taeyong.

"John, do you perhaps know why Taeyong is acting so cold to me?"

He thinks for a moment before answering. "I'm not sure, but I know he went through some tough times in middle school. Maybe it has something to do with that."

That's when memories start coming back. Taeyong... that name, that face... everything suddenly becomes clear. He was the one who saved me that night at the end of middle school. How could I have forgotten?

---

(Flashback). It’s the end of our last year of middle school. The air is filled with excitement and chatter as students gather for the end-of-year party. I’m surrounded by my friends, laughing and enjoying the festivities, when suddenly, a group of older students appears. They're known troublemakers, their smirks and glances filled with malice.

I feel a knot of unease in my stomach as they approach, eyeing me with disdain. One of them, taller and more intimidating than the rest, steps forward. "So, you think you're better than us, huh?" he sneers, his voice laced with venom.

I glance nervously at my friends, but before anyone can react, the situation escalates. Rough hands grab me, pulling me away from the safety of my group and into a dimly lit alley behind the school. Panic grips me as I struggle against their grip, my heart racing with fear.

"Let her go!" a voice rings out, breaking through the tense silence. I recognize the voice instantly—Taeyong. He emerges from the shadows, his presence commanding despite his slight frame. His eyes are steely with determination as he steps between me and the bullies.

"Leave her alone," he says firmly, his voice betraying only a hint of nervousness.

The leader of the group scoffs, his smirk widening. "What are you gonna do about it, huh? You think you can take us all on?"

Taeyong squares his shoulders, his fists clenched at his sides. "I said, leave her alone."

For a moment, time seems to stand still. Then, with a sudden burst of aggression, the bullies lunge at Taeyong. He fights back bravely, trading blows and dodging attacks with surprising agility. Despite being outnumbered, he holds his ground, his determination unwavering.

The alley echoes with the sounds of grunts and shuffling feet, but Taeyong doesn’t back down. He fights not just to defend me, but to protect something deeper—a sense of justice and courage that shines through even in the face of danger.

Finally, adults arrive, drawn by the commotion. They quickly intervene, pulling the students apart and dispersing the crowd. Taeyong stands battered and bruised, blood trickling from a cut on his cheek, but his gaze finds mine with a faint, reassuring smile.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice trembling with gratitude and relief.

---

As I fully recover and remember the events, I’m overwhelmed with guilt. How could I have forgotten what he did for me? Why is he so cold now? I need to know. But every time I try to approach him, he ignores me or becomes even more distant.

The weeks pass by, filled with tense meetings and strained interactions between Taeyong and me as we work on our biochemistry project. Each session is marked by awkward silences and terse exchanges, a stark contrast to the easy camaraderie I share with Johnny, Haechan, and Jaehyun.

One afternoon, after another particularly silent study session in the library, I decide it’s time to confront Taeyong about his cold demeanor. I catch up with him as we leave the library together.

"Taeyong," I begin tentatively, falling into step beside him, "can we talk?"

He glances at me briefly, his expression guarded. "About what?"

"About us," I reply honestly, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my stomach. "About why things have been so... strained between us."

He keeps walking, his pace steady but his eyes avoiding mine. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I pause, feeling frustration and hurt bubbling up inside me. "Taeyong, we used to be friends in middle school. What happened to that?"

He stops abruptly, turning to face me with a mixture of anger and sadness in his eyes. "That was a long time ago, Y/N. A lot has changed since then."

"But why are you so distant with me?" I press, my voice pleading for understanding. "You're friends with Johnny. What did I do to make you treat me like this?"

He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. "It's not about you, okay? It's... it's complicated."

"Then help me understand," I implore, stepping closer to him. "Please, Taeyong. I want to know."

For a moment, he looks torn, his emotions warring within him. Finally, he speaks, his voice quiet but filled with pain. "Do you remember that night at the end of middle school?"

I nod slowly, remembering the fear and relief of that evening. "Yes, of course."

"After that night," he continues, his gaze fixed on the ground, "things changed for me. I felt... abandoned."

My heart sinks as I realize the depth of his feelings. "Taeyong, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"You left," he interrupts softly, his voice cracking with emotion. "You left without saying goodbye."

"I didn't know what to do," I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes. "My parents moved us away so suddenly."

He shakes his head, his frustration evident. "You don't understand. I needed you, and you weren't there."

"I know," I reply, my voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry, Taeyong. I'm so sorry."

He looks at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and longing. "I tried to forget about that night, about you. But every time I saw you again, it brought back all those feelings."

"I never meant to hurt you," I say earnestly, reaching out to touch his arm. "I wish I could go back and change things."

He pulls away gently, his expression conflicted. "It's not that simple, Y/N."

"I know," I say softly, my heart breaking for the pain I've caused him. "But I want to try to make things right. Please, Taeyong."

---

Our meetings for the project continue in our dorms. Despite our initial animosity, a certain camaraderie begins to form between Taeyong and me. Gradually, I find myself enjoying his company more than I expected.

One evening, as we were working late in the library, Taeyong breaks the usual silence with a question. "So, Y/N, what made you choose biochemistry?"

I look up from my notes, surprised by his sudden interest. "Oh, well, I've always been fascinated by how living organisms function at a molecular level. It's like solving a puzzle, piece by piece."

He nods thoughtfully. "That makes sense. It's impressive."

"Thanks," I reply, feeling a bit flustered by his compliment. "And what about you? What's your passion?"

Taeyong hesitates for a moment, as if considering his answer carefully. "I've always been drawn to music," he finally says. "It's my way of expressing myself when words fail."

"That's beautiful," I remark, genuinely touched by his honesty.

As the night progresses, our conversation flows more freely. We share anecdotes about our childhood, discuss our favorite books and movies, and even joke about our initial dislike for each other. Surprisingly, Taeyong has a dry sense of humor that catches me off guard, making me laugh more than once.

At one point, he looks at me with a small smile. "You know, Y/N, I’m glad we started things over, you're not as bad as I thought you were."

I chuckle softly. "Likewise, Taeyong. Turns out, we might actually make a decent team."

He nods in agreement. "Yeah, I guess we do."

---

As weeks pass and our project nears completion, Taeyong and I find ourselves meeting one last time at a cozy café near campus. The atmosphere is serene, with soft jazz music playing in the background and the comforting aroma of coffee filling the air.

I arrive a few minutes early and settle into a corner booth, watching the door anxiously until Taeyong walks in with a warm smile. He sits across from me, and we exchange brief greetings before diving into our project notes.

"So, for this section," Taeyong begins, pointing to a paragraph in our report, "I think we should emphasize the implications of the latest research findings."

I nod in agreement, impressed by his insights. "That would definitely strengthen our argument," I agree, jotting down some notes.

As we discuss our ideas and make final adjustments, I can't help but notice the ease with which we work together now. The initial tension has given way to a shared sense of purpose and mutual respect.

After a while, Taeyong sets down his pen and leans back in his chair, studying me thoughtfully. "Y/N," he starts, his voice gentle, "this project is almost done."

I look up from my notes, meeting his gaze curiously. "Yeah, it's hard to believe it's almost over."

He nods slowly. "Yeah... which means we won't have to meet like this anymore."

A pang of sadness tugs at my heart as I realize the implications of his words. "Yeah," I reply softly, trying to mask the disappointment in my voice. "I guess we won't."

Taeyong frowns slightly, his expression conflicted. "I've... I've enjoyed working with you, Y/N."

"Me too," I admit quietly, my gaze dropping to the table. "It's been... surprisingly nice."

He leans forward, his voice earnest. "Y/N, I..." He trails off, as if unsure how to continue.

I look up at him, my heart racing with anticipation. "Taeyong?"

He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching mine. "I just... I want you to know that I appreciate you," he says finally, his words carefully chosen. "For everything. For being patient with me, for understanding."

A warmth spreads through me at his words, and I realize with a jolt that my feelings for him have grown beyond friendship. But I hesitate, unsure if now is the right time to confess.

"I appreciate you too, Taeyong," I reply softly, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "More than you know."

He smiles back, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Thank you, Y/N."

We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the unspoken tension between us palpable. I want to tell him how I feel, to let him know that my feelings have changed, but the words catch in my throat.

"Taeyong," I start tentatively, breaking the silence, "what happens after this project?"

He looks at me, his expression thoughtful. "I guess... we go back to our lives," he says quietly, his gaze dropping to his hands.

A wave of disappointment washes over me, mingled with regret for not speaking up sooner. "Yeah," I murmur, feeling a lump in my throat. "Back to normal."

But inside, nothing feels normal anymore. Everything has changed between us, and I'm left grappling with the realization that I might have missed my chance to tell Taeyong how I truly feel.

As we gather our belongings to leave the café, I steal glances at Taeyong, my heart heavy with unspoken words. The weight of what could have been hangs between us, a silent ache that I'm not sure how to heal.

But as we part ways, I cling to a flicker of hope—that maybe, just maybe, there will be another chance for us, another moment where I can find the courage to confess my feelings and hope he feels the same way too.

---

After our emotional conversation at the café, I feel overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. That evening, I decide to FaceTime Haechan, Johnny, and Jaehyun to share everything that has happened with Taeyong. They answer almost immediately, their faces filled with curiosity and concern.

"Y/N! What's going on? You look like you've been through a rollercoaster," Johnny exclaims, leaning closer to the screen.

"Yeah, spill it!" Haechan chimes in, his expression serious but playful.

I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself as I recount the story of Taeyong and me—from our childhood friendship to our recent reconciliation over the biochemistry project. They listen intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to empathy.

"So, let me get this straight," Jaehyun says slowly, processing the information. "You've been harboring feelings for Taeyong all this time?"

I nod, feeling a rush of nerves as I admit the truth to my friends. "Yeah. I think... I think I've fallen for him."

Haechan lets out a whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Wow, Y/N. That's intense."

Johnny leans closer to the camera, his voice gentle. "What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know," I reply honestly, feeling a mix of hope and uncertainty. "I think... maybe I should tell him how I feel."

"You've got to talk to him," Jaehyun adds, his tone encouraging. "You owe it to yourself, Y/N. Don't let fear hold you back."

Their words resonate deeply within me, filling me with determination. "You're right," I say with a small smile. "I'll talk to him."

As we say our goodbyes and end the call, I feel a renewed sense of purpose. Tomorrow, I'll face Taeyong and finally confess what's been in my heart all this time.

---

The next day arrives swiftly, and with it, a mix of nerves and excitement as Taeyong and I prepare to present our biochemistry project to the class. Mr. Kim welcomes us warmly as we step up to the front of the room, the PowerPoint slides ready and our notes organized.

"Today, Y/N and Taeyong will be presenting their research on enzyme kinetics," Mr. Kim announces to the class, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

Taeyong and I exchange a quick glance, our nerves momentarily forgotten as we launch into our presentation. We speak with confidence, explaining our findings and analysis with clarity and enthusiasm. As we reach the conclusion, I feel a sense of pride knowing how far we've come together.

Mr. Kim listens attentively throughout, nodding approvingly at key points and occasionally interjecting with insightful questions. When we finish, he applauds warmly, a smile of satisfaction spreading across his face.

"Excellent work, Y/N and Taeyong," he praises, his voice resonating with genuine admiration. "You've demonstrated a deep understanding of the subject matter and presented your research with clarity and precision. I'm truly impressed."

Taeyong and I exchange grateful smiles, the tension of the presentation melting away in the glow of Mr. Kim's praise. As we gather our things to leave, I catch Haechan, Johnny, and Jaehyun's proud smiles from the back of the room, their silent encouragement giving me a surge of confidence.

---

After class, the campus bustles with students heading off to their next destinations. I remember my friends words and linger near the classroom, summoning the courage to finally confront Taeyong about something I've been avoiding for far too long.

"Hey, Taeyong," I begin, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nervousness bubbling inside me. "Can we talk?"

He hesitates for a moment, then nods slowly. "Sure, Y/N. What's on your mind?"

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I gather my thoughts. "I... I was wondering if we could meet later this afternoon. Maybe at the park?"

His eyebrows furrow with curiosity. "Sure, but why?"

"There's something important I need to discuss with you," I reply, feeling a surge of nerves and anticipation.

Taeyong's expression softens, and he gives me a small smile. "Okay, Y/N. I'll meet you there."

As the afternoon arrives, I find myself at the park, anxiously waiting for Taeyong. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. I've dressed in a floral dress, hoping to look pretty, and with an hopeful feeling inside me despite my jittery nerves.

When Taeyong arrives, he looks genuinely surprised to see me there, setting up a small picnic under a shady tree. He sits down beside me, and we start chatting casually, the unspoken tension between us palpable.

After a while, the conversation naturally slows, and I gather my courage. "Taeyong," I begin, my voice trembling slightly, "there's something I need to tell you."

He turns to me, his gaze intense and expectant. "What is it, Y/N?"

He listens attentively, his gaze unwavering as I gather my thoughts. "I... I've realized that... I've developed feelings for you, Taeyong," I confess, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment and hope.

He blinks in surprise, his expression momentarily unreadable. For a moment, he doesn't say anything, his eyes searching mine with a mixture of surprise and contemplation. Then, without warning, he steps closer, gently cupping my face in his hands, he suddenly leans in and kisses me softly, his lips warm against mine. My heart skips a beat as I melt into the kiss, overwhelmed yet exhilarated by the rush of emotions.

When we finally pull back, Taeyong rests his forehead against mine, his eyes searching mine tenderly. "Y/N," he murmurs softly, his voice tinged with emotion, "I've... I've loved you for a long time, since middle school, actually."

I gasp softly, my heart swelling with joy and relief. "But... why didn't you say anything?"

He sighs, his thumb brushing gently against my cheek. "After you moved away, I thought... I thought you had forgotten about me. Seeing you again at university brought back everything I felt back then. But I didn't know how to tell you."

Tears well up in my eyes as I realize the depth of his feelings. "Taeyong, I'm so sorry," I whisper, guilt washing over me. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

He pulls me into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around me protectively. "I'm sorry for pushing you away," he murmurs against my hair. "I should have been more mature about everything."

I bury my face in his shoulder, feeling the weight of past misunderstandings finally lifting. "Thank you, Taeyong," I murmur, my voice muffled against his shirt. "Thank you for being patient with me."

"It's okay," I reply, tears of relief and happiness streaming down my cheeks. "I understand now."

He pulls back slightly, cupping my face in his hands. "No more apologies, okay? We both made mistakes. But now, we can move forward together."

I nod, a smile spreading across my face. "Together."

As the sun begins to set, casting a warm glow over us, we continue our picnic and we stand together in the embrace, our hearts finally open and our feelings laid bare, sharing stories and laughter. The air is filled with a newfound sense of closeness and understanding, a promise of a future where our love can blossom freely.

And in that moment, beneath the fading light of a sunny afternoon, I know that everything we've been through has led us to this beautiful, unexpected love—a love that I will cherish for the rest of my life, and as we walk home hand in hand, I know that with Taeyong by my side, I've found not only love but also forgiveness and a chance to heal the scars of our past, together.

Epilogue:

The next morning, Taeyong and I arrive at our class hand in hand, both of us sporting wide smiles that we can't seem to wipe off our faces. As we step through the door, the playful whistles and cheers from our friends greet us.

"Look who finally made it official!" Jaehyun exclaims with a grin, earning laughter from Johnny.

Haechan playfully whines, "I'm so jealous! Sick of being single, you know?"

This earns a round of laughter from everyone, including Taeyong and me. Jaehyun and Johnny clap us on the back, grinning broadly. "About time, you two figured it out!" Johnny exclaims with a chuckle. "You had us all waiting forever."

Jaehyun nods in agreement. "Seriously, though, we're really happy for you guys. You make a great couple."

Taeyong and I exchange a shy smile, as he squeezes my hand gently, his eyes shining with happiness and relief. "Thank you, guys," he says sincerely, his voice filled with gratitude. "For everything."

As we settle into our seats, the warmth of our friends' support surrounds us like a comforting embrace. The class continues with Mr. Kim congratulating us on our project, commending our teamwork and dedication, Mr. Kim notices the commotion and smiles knowingly. "I'm glad to see teamwork paying off both in and out of the classroom," he remarks, giving us a nod of approval.

Throughout the day, Taeyong and I are inseparable, stealing glances and sharing secret smiles. It feels like the beginning of something beautiful, a journey we're finally taking together after so many missed chances and misunderstandings.

After class, as we gather our belongings to head to lunch, Taeyong leans in close to me. "I'm glad we took that chance yesterday," he whispers, his voice soft but filled with certainty.

I smile up at him, feeling a rush of love and gratitude. "Me too," I reply quietly. "I wouldn't change a thing."

[snickerdoodlles]

*chin hands* question friends! how did/do you find my fics? like, do you keep an eye on my ao3, an eye on this account, only click on if a post catches your eye…?

[mattodore]

this is what i do when i'm having bad days 🤺

[dagaan]

The next chapter of SkullHacker, my cyberpunk shivrye AU, is finally out! You can check it out at the usual spot, over here.

[arthur-r]

i’ve gotten really bad over break at falling asleep in a time frame where i can wake up in the morning and function at capacity. but in other news i’ve written a very angry song aimed at my father. so that’s fun

[latinokaeya-moving]

you know. i wouldnt get so privately frustrated everytime i talk with my mum abt me and my brother paying ‘rent’/helping out w food or bills once we both have full time jobs if she at least had the decency to admit she just wants to use the money to pay off her and my dads debts quicker

[fingertipsmp3]

Today has been a productive day :)

[adelheidvonschicksal]

The Love and Deepspace Boys Trying to Get You to Sleep ⋆｡°✩

Tags: Fluff, teasing, needy boys, mild sexual content, gender neutral reader (I had to re-write so please let me know if I messed up.)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Xavier is surprisingly softer than you expected when you first met him on your mission together. He’s an incredibly powerful hunter but possesses a quiet and gentle, almost oblivious, aura when navigating everyday life, like a ghost floating through the space he takes up. It should also be understood that this very nature of his makes him affectionate, so much so, that he won’t unwrap his arms around your waist and stop pressing his head to your shoulder as you sit at the kitchen bar, typing on your laptop.

“Are you planning on staying up later than the stars?” he mumbles.

There’s a gentle yawn against your skin from the sluggish man, highlighting just how long he’s been trying to coax you into going to bed.

“I wanted to finish this report for work.”

“The report will be there tomorrow,” he says. You swat away his hand that reaches for the power button on the laptop causing him to pout. He grumbles. “You should go to bed. Otherwise, I can’t sleep.”

Smiling to yourself, you decide to tease him. “Oh, so you’re really trying to get me to go to bed for your own benefit?”

“Well, you can’t very well expect me to do it by myself anymore.” Xavier nuzzles his head into the slope of your neck, cuddling you. “It’s your responsibility since you ruined my sleeping habits.”

“Ruined?”

“Ramshackled,” he repeats quietly, causing you to giggle. With an airy sigh, he presses his weight into you more. “How do you expect me to sleep when I can’t hold you?”

Defeated, you save your work and close the laptop. You swivel in your chair, enough to meet his eye, and cup a hand to his cheek. It never stops being endearing to you how he cutely closes his eyes and angles his head to snuggle your palm.

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to beg.”

His eyes flutter open, and the smile on his face grows as he wraps his fingers around yours. Carefully, he pulls on your hand to bring it up enough to begin to lace your wrist with affectionate kisses, tracing your pulse.

“I thought you enjoyed my begging.”

“That’s different.”

“It isn’t,” Xavier mutters into your skin, pressing another light kiss.

“It is.”

“So, you're resolute about that position?” he questions “innocently”. There’s something mischievous about the glint in those arctic eyes, which makes your face warm. You find yourself breaking eye contact, or else you’d lose it.

“Yes.”

Xavier chuckles then begins to lead his kisses down your arm. “In that case, care to explain the difference in detail, love?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sleep.”

“But—”

“Sleep.”

Zayne narrows his eyes at you from his side of the bed. You can’t blame him for being a little annoyed right now but the movie you put on to fall asleep was much better than you expected; and instead of falling asleep, you were more awake than ever at a very late one in the morning.

“I’m almost done with the movie,” you tell him, hoping he’ll cut you a little slack this one time.

“Everyone dies at the end of their own stupidity,” he bluntly states and grabs the remote. The television turns off with an overly loud click, and you pout. “Now, sleep.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m fine with that title if it gets you to rest,” he explains with a smooth yawn. “Poor sleep habits lead to bad decision-making later. You’re more likely to develop high blood pressure, and with your heart in particular—”

“I get it. I get it,” you say, wanting to be spared the lecture. Zayne is a good person and a better doctor, but you wish he didn’t worry about you so much just because you might have a little big heart problem. Sighing, you squiggle onto your back and pull the sheets up to your collar, kicking them a little childishly in the process (totally not to let him know that you were not pleased with his spoiling). “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“Very.”

Zayne turns over onto his side, away from you, and you frown at the loneliness. Softly, you poke him in the back, once, then twice then a third time before you finally get a hum in response.

“Am I really not getting a good night kiss?”

“Do you need one to sleep?” he asks, his voice deeper from the lack of sleep, urging you to convince him to kiss you even more.

“Duh,” you explain. Slowly, he turns back over to look at you, propping himself up on one arm with a look that says “Is that so” as you continue to ramble. It makes you a little flustered when he watches you so intently. He’s always had this silent dominance that makes you obedient, but you could get what you want from him just as easily with the exact opposite strategy. Cutely, you puff your bottom lip out at him. “There has to be some health benefit to it. Kissing makes people all happy. Happy is good, right?”

It takes a second for him to take in what you say, those smokey eyes closing in on you with thought before he climbs over you. He places both hands at your sides and quickly boxes in your upper thighs with his knees.

“You’re thinking of dopamine,” he says.

“Huh?”

“That makes you “all happy”,” he explains and presses a deep kiss to your lips, leaving you thoughtless and breathless all at once. He moves to your jaw, and you begin to squirm from the pressure of his impassioned lips.

“And Serotonin.”

Another kiss, lower.

“Oxytocin.”

He’s at your shoulder when he starts to nip your skin, and one of his hands moves to ski up the back of your thigh.

“Reduced cortisol.”

Flustered, you grip his arms.

“Zayne, stop, it tickles,” you whine, but it’s the last thing you actually want as he readjusts his position and hovers above you.

His usually neat hair is messier and his breathing a little heavier judging by how his chest laboriously rises and falls. Groaning, you bite your bottom lip as he knowingly leans in and whispers,

“You need it to help you sleep, isn’t that what you said?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Why don’t you just say you don’t love me anymore?”

You look up from your phone screen at the sudden accusation. You’re resting on the couch, your back propped up by the armrest and legs splayed out on the other cushion while Rafayel looks down at you with crossed arms and a less-than-pleased scowl on his face. You’re entirely confused as to what you could’ve done to make him think something like that.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been playing video games for what—the last two hours?” he says, uncrossing his arms to grab your phone. It’s too late to warn him as he glances at the screen, clicking a few times. “What are you playing anyway? An…otome? Sheesh, go ahead and say you want me gone. Come on, tell me you actually hate me.”

Holding in your smile, you shake your head and affectionately roll your eyes. It takes an enormous amount of effort to not laugh as he continues to rant. “So, it’s one of those things. I thought I was actually in trouble.”

And by those things, you mean his dramatics.

“Hush, my complaints are perfectly legitimate,” he demands as he pushes your legs aside and sits on the couch. Leaning over, he flashes the screen at you to show the evidence he has that you’re completely unfair, unfaithful, and downright mean. “What’s this game giving you that I’m not? Are my dashing good looks and even better personality not enough? Is that it?”

Gently, you take the phone from his hand and set it down on the end table. “You’re plenty, perfect even.”

He scoffs and refuses to look at you. “Apparently not. Don’t you ever think about anyone else? What if I want to cuddle with you one day but you’re too busy to notice because you’re playing silly games?”

Ah, there it is. His real want. You never know why he can never just come out and say it.

“Rafayel, do you want me to come to bed and cuddle with you?”

“Want is a strong word,” he remarks but you can see his resolve (can you call it that when he planned to give in all along?) crumbling as he slowly turns back to meet your gaze, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Not that you deserve it or care.”

Humming, you sit up, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pull him down onto you. Lovingly, you snuggle him, stopping to only take in how red his neck and ears start to get when you squeeze him and start to stroke through his hair. You’re not sure if Lumerians can blow happy bubbles like he claims, but he definitely hums and relaxes his entire body weight to lay on top of you like he wants to sink into your skin.

Teasingly, you coo at him. “You’re so needy.”

“I’d rather say you humans aren’t needy enough,” he fires back as he wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the corner of your lips. “Ah, the sweet taste of victory.”

Giving out a gentle and short laugh, you lightly tap his back. “Go to sleep.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[sunrizef1]

Girl back home

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x wife!reader

Warnings: cursing (I think)

Authors note: this took forever, but now I can actually work on whiv now that I’ve finished this

Summary: Everyone keeps trying to set Logan up, but no one bothers to ask if he's already got a girl (surprise! he does!)

Word Count: 4.2k (jesus)

“What about her? she’s pretty,” Alex asks as he points at the five hundredth model to walk past the Williams garage that day.

If it hadn’t been his home race, Logan might have walked away an hour ago when Alex’s pointing started but instead, he stayed, choosing to endure Alex’s unrelenting matchmaking.

“No, Alex. I’ve already said no to about 50 other girls you’ve pointed out, what makes you think she’d be different,” Logan groans, his head leaning back to rest against the wall behind them.

Alex purses his lips, a frown on his face, “Why won’t you let me get you a girlfriend?”

Logan pauses to stare at the ceiling of the garage for a second before he turns his head to face the man next to him, “I don’t need a girlfriend.”

“Yeah sure man, I’ve seen you stare quietly at a wall by yourself more times than you’d probably admit. If that doesn’t scream “I need a girlfriend” then I don’t know what does,” Alex shrugs before turning back to face away from his friend, his hand coming back up to point at a pretty-faced blonde girl making her way past the garage, even smiling when she locks eyes with Logan, “Ooh what about her? She seems to like you!”

Logan just hums in response, his eyes closing as he leaves Alex to talk to himself.

In reality, Logan truly didn’t need a girlfriend. He had something even better, a wife. Who also happened to be you. You had met when you were kids and had been in love ever since. You liked to joke that it was love at first sight but every time you said it, Logan would wonder how much of a joke it really was.

You had been there for every step in his career, through the wins and the losses, through karting to Formula racing. So when he proposed after the end of the f3 season in 2020, no one close to you was really surprised.

You got married shortly after, neither one of you wanting a big, flashy wedding. Instead, the wedding was small but still nice, just some close friends and family in attendance. Even Oscar had been there and he made sure to reference the event to everyone who wouldn’t understand when around Logan. He loved to talk about the “party” Logan had in 2020 to the other drivers who, frankly, had no idea what he meant.

When he got his move to Formula One, you were over the moon for him. You didn’t worry about long-distance. You had made it work in the past and you both had total confidence in each other to make it work. You continued your degree in engineering and he continued his career in racing. You tried to make it to races when school would let you, which wasn’t often, and he was more than happy to fly you out when he could.

Logan genuinely loved you more than anything. With that being said, this meant that he did not have the time of day for anyone trying to set him up with the Instagram model of the week who had decided to visit a garage.

But at the same time, he also didn’t feel the pressure to share your marriage with anyone. He didn’t really know any of the other drivers very well and if they wanted to know more about him, they could ask. It’s just that no one ever did.

Except, it seems, when they wanted to set him up.

“Hey, Logan!” A British voice calls out to the American, whose head shoots up at the uncommon voice.

“What’s up, mate?” The blonde asks Lando, pocketing the phone where he had just been texting you to ask about your engineering final.

Lando grins and places a hand on the American's shoulder, raising his voice to be heard above the sounds of the paddock, “I was talking to Oscar and he mentioned something about your love life and something about you being lonely, I don’t really remember what he said but anyway, I’m talking to this girl and she has this friend who I think would be perfect for you.”

Logan’s face drops at the brunette's words, a frown replacing his smile, “I’m cool Lando, thanks though.”

Lando furrows his eyebrows, disbelief written on his features, “You sure, mate? She’s sooooo fine.”

Logan just nods his head in response, backing away from the McLaren driver slowly, “Yeah I’m sure Lando, you have fun thinking about your girlfriend’s friend though.”

Lando doesn’t seem to catch the diss as he just glances up and down at Logan before shaking his head and turning on his heel to head back to his garage. Logan sighs before taking his phone back out of his pocket to see another text from you. A grin breaks out on his face as he sees your name.

Logan hadn’t talked to very many of the drivers on the grid, often feeling on the outs of a lot of conversations. So he’s even more surprised to see Charles Leclerc making his way toward him at a club. A club he had only agreed to come to so he coule be Oscar's designated driver, by the way.

“Eyyy, it’s the American!” Charles says, the alcohol clearly present in his voice. The lights are too dimmed but if they were brighter, Logan would be able to see the lipstick smudges around his white collar.

“Hey, Charles,” Logan replies, scepticism laced in his voice. The Monegasque leans closer to him, the drink in his hand sloshing around in the cup.

“I have something to tell you,” Charles slurs a bit, leaning dangerously before a pretty brunette comes up and grabs him, based on her lipstick shade compared to Charles’ shirt, she had already been more than acquaintances with him before this conversation.

Logan glances at the pair before responding dryly, “Oh no.”

Charles grins before pointing back to where he had come from, a dark-haired girl sitting at the table, “That’s Natalie.”

“Navaeh,” the brunette pipes up to correct Charles as he nods in response.

“Yeah, Nivia. Anyway, she’s a friend of mine and she’s been eyeing you all night, thought you’d want her number.”

Logan rolls his eyes at the very clearly drunk couple in front of him, increasing his headache from the pounding EDM, “What an assumption there Charles. I’m actually good though.”

“What?” Charles asks, squinting to see the blonde under the club lights.

“No thanks,” Logan smiles tightly before moving to step around the couple and probably tell Oscar that either they were both leaving or Oscar was getting an Uber, “You guys have a good night though.”

The couple is already too busy sucking face to realize he’s left.

“I just don’t understand why they keep trying to set me up, I’m perfectly happy with you,” Logan complains to you over the phone a few nights later.

You were sat in your dorm, engineering work strewn across your desk and your roommate at a party somewhere. You were trying to get as much work done as possible before Logan came to Austin for the GP so you could spend the weekend with him.

“I mean, have you told them you’re married?” You ask, trying to stifle a yawn as your hand moves to write down the equation for the problem in front of you.

Logan shakes his head, the movement almost imperceptible through the small phone screen, “Nah, but it’s just that no one’s asked you know? I’m just waiting for someone to say “Hey Logan, you got a girl back home?” Before they try and set me up with some Instagram model they know.”

You smile softly as he talks, his hands moving to mess with his blond hair periodically. He eventually looks back to the screen once he’s done ranting and is met with your smiling face filling his phone screen, “What?”

“I love you,” you say warmly, your grin practically splitting your face.

Logan blushes before laughing and shaking his head to hide the redness on his face, “I love you too. I’ll see you next week yeah?”

You look down at the now-completed homework in front of you. Homework that could’ve taken about 2 fewer hours if you weren’t on call.

“Yeah I’m done with this. I’ll turn it into my professor tomorrow and after that I am free. When do you get in?” You ask, shuffling the papers together and sliding them into your bag before moving out of your chair and flopping onto your bunk, sleep clouding your eyes.

“Uhh,” Logan pauses, glancing at his suitcase. In reality, he was supposed to get in twenty two hours and six minutes from when he hung up the call, his flight leaving in three hours and arriving in Austin after a 16 hour flight and a 2 hour layover in DFW followed by an hour long flight to Austin. He would effectively be arriving about a week before any of the other drivers. Besides maybe Daniel. But he couldn’t say any of that. He wanted to surprise you, especially now that you had no work to do. So instead he just hums, “Next week I think.”

“That’s great, babe,” you yawn, a small smile on your lips at the idea of him being back with you again, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah?” Logan grins.

You hum, your eyes drifting closed slightly, “Yeah.”

Logan notices your less-than-awake state and finally decides to end the call, “Goodnight, I love you.”

You yawn again, your eyes fluttering shut, “Good morning Logan, I love you too.”

The call ends quickly after and Logan glances at the time, grinning when he sees the 8:24 am displayed on his phone screen. You’d both had to deal with the difference in time zones for so long, you probably had all the time zones memorized. Or at least you remembered enough to call out good morning instead of goodnight while he was in Qatar.

His flight touches down twenty-two hours later and the first thing he does is call you.

“Hey what's up?” It's about 10:30 in Austin and the only thing you were doing was picking up barbeque from this place on the edge of campus that your roommate had been raving about.

“Not much, just bored,” Logan replies, his eyes scanning the background of the face time call for where you could possibly be this late.

You glance down at your phone for a second to do the same, eyebrows furrowing, “Where are you? It looks dark.”

Logan glances around slightly before replying, “In a car,” he wasn't lying, he really was in a car. Just one that was ubering to your campus instead of one with his team in Qatar, “Where are you? It's like 10 pm over there.”

“Just picking up some food,” you reply, eyes looking over the moonlit sidewalk that threads through the well-kept grass that surrounds you.

“This late?”

You laugh, “I slept through dinner.”

Logan smiles before sliding forward slightly when the car stops, “Are you just going back to your dorm?”

You look around quickly, “Yeah it's like a quarter mile back though.” You tighten your grip on the bag in your hand, the plastic having started to slip. Maybe your Ugg slides hadn't been the best choice for this walk but you'd manage.

“Oh yeah I know where you are, I remember eating at that place last time I was there,” Logan pulls his suitcase out of the trunk and tips the driver, checking periodically to make sure you hadn't clocked him.

“Yeah yeah, really good stuff and the owner remembered me today, guess I've been there enough times,” You laugh, starting to move back in the direction of your dorm once again.

By the time you had stopped to readjust the bag of food and your shoes, Logan had already started to speedwalk in the direction of your dorm. As he walks he passes enough drunk college kids to fill the football stadium they had all visited so many times.

You're walking pretty slowly, enjoying the moonlight shining brightly on the campus. Your shoes definitely weren't making you any faster to be fair.

“You turn your assignment in?” Logan asks, hoping you don't notice his eyes darting around the campus in search of you.

You nod, reaching a hand up to rub at your sleepy eyes, “Yeah, he even gave me extra credit for turning it in so early.”

Logan nods absentmindedly and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him do it before his eyes lock on something and he abruptly ends the call, “I've got to go, love you!”

You stand staring at your phone with a confused look on your face for a moment, words dying on the tip of your tongue. Weird.

You shake your head before moving to walk again, Logan's weird actions at the forefront of your mind.

Before you can even take a step, someone calls out your name and you turn quickly to see Logan standing there with the biggest grin on his face.

You gasp and wrap him in a bone-crushing hug warmth spreading through you from his arms. You move to spread kisses all across his face and for a few minutes, you both just stand there, not having seen each other in a few months and taking the time to readjust.

“I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulder, unexpected tears starting to spring from your eyes.

He just sets you down before wrapping a hand around the side of your face, “I missed you too.”

You bring a sweater-clad hand up to wipe away a tear before grabbing the food in one hand and grabbing his hand in the other, starting to lead him back to your dorm.

He grabs his suitcase as you start moving, “Is your roommate here?”

“No, you know how she is. She'll be with her new boyfriend for a few weeks so we're fine,” you wave away his question as you walk toward the building a few hundred feet away.

He smiles in response, “Hope you got enough food for two.”

You just laugh joyously.

A week and a half later, you’re stood in the hotel room Logan’s team had provided him, the room much nicer than your cramped dorm room. You had spent the last 12 days exploring Austin with your husband, making up for the time spent away from each other.

You had accidentally slept through Logan’s departure for the morning, waking up to a text explaining that, with your busy class schedule, he wanted you to get as many days of sleeping in as possible but he had gotten you breakfast and it was currently sitting in the kitchen.

You smiled at the text, appreciating Logan’s thoughtfulness. In the kitchen was a coffee from your favourite coffee shop as well as a McGriddle from McDonalds, which, no doubt, hurt Logan to order considering he wasn’t allowed to eat them.

You quickly ate the food, texting Logan to thank him. He texts back surprisingly quickly, considering he was supposed to be in a meeting.

He filled you in on how his morning had gone before asking when you’d get to the paddock for the race. You replied that you’d be there soon, quickly sliding on a light jacket over your tank top and jean shorts, preparing for the Austin heat.

Considering you had never been in the COTA paddock before, you would rather be in any situation other than your current one. There were about three hours until the race and you had no idea where the Williams garage was. You had gotten in just fine but, for some reason, you couldn’t find the blue of the Williams employees anywhere.

Logan wasn’t answering his phone, which you expected considering he had already been reprimanded for being on his phone during a meeting once this morning. Now you were left by yourself, trying to navigate the busy paddock.

You were somehow in a sea of orange, eyebrows furrowed. You turn in a quick circle, eyes setting on a curly-haired man in an orange polo who you take a few quick steps towards, hoping he can help you with directions.

“Excuse me,” you call out to the man who turns around swiftly, eyes pulling across your figure before landing on your face.

“How can I help you, love?” The man replies, a British accent laced through his voice and a sharp grin on his rosy lips.

You glance around slightly, leaning away from the man’s hungry gaze, “Do you know where the Williams garage is?”

He nods his head but keeps his eyes locked on your face, his smirk unfaltering, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just down that way.”

He points to nowhere in particular, moving to lean against the wall you’re standing near, “What’s your name, darling?”

You have to hide the smirk that tries to escape you at the fact that this man clearly has no idea you were married and also clearly thought you’d be an easy girl to flirt with considering his unwavering confidence.

You tell him your name and a grin breaks out on his face, “Pretty name, I’m Lando.”

Ah, so this was Lando. You had only ever seen him with his helmet on and from what you heard from Logan, his current behaviour made perfect sense. Logan hadn’t talked a lot about the Brit but he had mentioned him a few times considering he was Oscars teammate.

You hum, glancing around amusedly around the garage. You and Lando talk for a few more moments before a shorter figure clasps a hand on his shoulder. You lock eyes with the newcomer, grinning when you see a familiar boy standing behind Lando.

"Hey Osc," You smile at the Aussie. Oscar glances sideways at Lando, eyes shifting across his face before they turn to you. You just smile sweetly at the man who reciprocates the grin back at you.

"Hey," Lando glances confusedly between the two of you at Oscar's response. When Lando's confusion goes on a bit too long, Oscar turns and swings an arm around your shoulder, effectively moving the both of you away from the still-confused McLaren driver.

"I assume you're looking for Williams, then?" Oscar asks, running his free hand through his hair which had already begun to stick to his forehead from the Austin heat.

You hum in affirmation, sliding your sunglasses down your nose as the two of you step into the sun to make your way to your husband's garage.

Oscar makes conversation as he pulls you along, talking to you about how his season had gone and also asking a lot of questions about your engineering classes.

“I’d do a video for you, shock all your classmates,” Oscar says when you tell him you had to do a presentation explaining the engineering behind a piece of machinery and you had chosen a Formula 1 car.

You laugh, shaking your head as you do, “Yeah? I'd take you up on that, but I have a driver who'd be much easier to get a video from.”

Oscar snorts, smiling as you reach the Williams garage, “Lando?”

You roll your eyes as the name leaves his lips, hitting the back of his head with the small bag in your hands, “Don't get me started on Lando. You know he tried to set Logan up with one of his friends?”

Oscar furrows his eyebrows, “What?”

“Yeah, Lando said you told him Logan’s love life was lonely or something like that,” You reply, glancing around passively in search of your husband.

Oscar somehow manages to furrow his eyebrows even deeper, mouth opening and closing in disbelief, “That’s not what I said at all.”

“Tell him that.”

You both walk into the garage after that, you move to make conversation with Benny who’s sat to the side, surprise crossing his face as he sees you.

Oscar, though, spots Logan and makes his way to him quickly. He clasps a hand on the blonde's back who turns to face him with a grin, “What’s up Osc?”

“Lando was flirting with your wife,” Oscar states flatly, trying to push down the grin on his face.

Logan blinks a few times in an attempt to understand what the Aussie just said, “What- why?”

“Don’t think he knew she was your wife, mate.”

Logan rolls his eyes before turning around slightly to resume his conversation with his engineer. He stops mid-turn and swings back around to Oscar quickly, eyes wide, “My wife’s here?”

Oscar laughs at the American's face, stepping out of his line of sight so he can see you conversing with Benny.

Logan grins, sliding past the other boy to step toward you as quick as he can, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Oscar can’t hear what you two say to each other but he can see the love painting your faces as Logan plants a kiss on the top of your head. Benny smiles at the two of you, walking away to let you two talk.

As Oscar leaves the Williams garage, he briefly debates telling Lando you were married, especially to Logan, but he eventually decides not to. He’d figure it out eventually. Also might help to have him learn the hard way.

You sat in the garage for the entire race. But when Logan ends the race in eight, you’re jumping up happily to follow the Williams employee guiding you to where he’ll be.

The moment he’s done being weighed, he runs over to you, pulling his helmet off and unzipping his suit to his hips.

He grasps the side of your face, pulling you to him as he kisses you softly. He pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, lifting a hand to grab the one you have against the side of his face, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.

“Thank you for being here. I love you.”

You can’t help the lovely laugh that escapes you, throwing your head back a bit to escape the heat rising on your cheeks, “I love you too, dork. I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles before leaning to catch you in another kiss.

Lando had finished the race in 4th. Not bad considering who had finished in front of him. He’d already talked to his team so he was now just roaming around, looking for someone to talk to.

He locks eyes on you and takes a few steps toward you before someone comes running past him. He looks over to see Logan grasping your face in his hands before pulling you down into a kiss.

He can’t help but stand in shock for a few moments although he can sense a couple people walking up next to him. He glances beside him to see Charles and Alex, both also staring at Logan in disbelief.

“What the hell?” Lando asks, to no one in particular. Luckily, or unfortunately, for him, someone has an answer.

“Are you lot staring at Logan and his wife?” Lando doesn’t look over to catch the amused look on Oscar’s face as he asks the question. But Alex does, and he furrows his eyebrows at the younger man.

“Sorry?” Alex asks the Aussie who just smiles and turns back to the couple, still smiling in each other's embrace.

Charles is the first one to notice anything and he smacks the other two on the head when he does, “They’re both wearing wedding rings.”

Alex blinks for a second, caught in the strange reality that he hadn’t noticed his teammate wearing a wedding ring the whole season. He pulls out his phone to go through old photos and low-and-behold, Logan’s wearing a ring in every single one.

“Jesus Christ,” Lando mumbles, running a hand through his damp curls, “I flirted with her.”

“Yeah,” Oscar nods, hands on his hips, “I probably wouldn’t talk to Logan for a while if I were you. Unless you want to find out how they do it in Florida.”

Lando gulps at the boy's words, of course, having no idea how they “do it” in Florida but only assuming he’d end up with a black eye. Oscar has to stifle a laugh, knowing Logan would most likely just laugh it off if Lando genuinely apologized. Not that Lando would.

Oscar's eyes drift across the trio of confused drivers, most likely all going through their memories of the times they had tried to set Logan up.

“You told me he was lonely,” Lando finally whines out, turning back to Oscar who shakes his head.

“I told you he was lonely because his girlfriend couldn’t make it to any of the races. If you would listen, you would’ve heard that part.”

Lando has no defence to that and turns his head back again to watch as Logan laughs at something you said, fingers intertwined together.

When the news spread across the paddock the next day, Logan received a lot of incredulous texts from drivers and employees alike, all shocked that he was in a relationship, let alone married.

Logan didn’t read any of them, he was too busy hanging out with you.

Except, of course, the message from Oscar that included three specific drivers all with their eyes wide as they stared at him and you.

——————————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

[secndlife]

rewriting old stories is such a crazy process

[exopelagic]

I have been in this city for ONE WEEK and I’m ready to leave forever

[prisonpodcast]

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