#start racing in the grass
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rozecrest · 9 months ago
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kevin is a born romantic like the way chiron FALLS back into his bed after he calls him because a man who looked like him played a love song on a jukebox and chiron is immediately having erotic dreams about him bathed in yellow light again
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welcometoteyvat · 1 year ago
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co-op is crazy bc in the same co op session you can immediately click with someone and then find out the other rando who joined might be a racist
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violet-dragongirl · 2 years ago
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Did my first Formula C practice, qualify, and race and got first place!
The team i'm with is in 3rd though. Teammate AI driver didn't do so hot (which is fine like, small steps to getting Team Gold and all)
I'm surprised I picked up the pacing quite quickly though I'm still having trouble starting when there's cars all around me (ANXIETY :'] ), but I'm gonna get the hang of the AI settings I placed in as well as might change them to better suit how I want to play this game (mostly chill but do wanna win so it's on a fairly easy difficulty setting).
The thing I'm also adjusting is like...the screen I'm using now isn't the screen I used to play this game on and it's smaller width wise so everything feels SO DAMNED CLOSE when it also really ain't.
As far as the tuning mechanics go, I'm just gonna leave the tyres up to the pc to figure out mostly (like...Unless there's a VERY specific way to have the tyres pressure and...agh I forgot the second important setting), but in general It's gonna have to be a Per Car/Per Track/Per Weather basis.
I'm gonna hate wet/rainy weather so goddamn much >.<
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smashstappen · 12 days ago
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Not a Charles fan going into the Max tag to say they don't care about the penalty as long as their beloved sharl is not involved the rest can "be evil and get away with it", tell me you're stupid, know nothing about racing and only watch F1 because Charles is pretty.
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theresascove · 18 days ago
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you know how I love it when you ride on me ₊ ⊹
ellie williams x f!reader
Ellie fucks you in the locker room showers while her teammate is chatting to her in a nearby shower
tw: not proofread, FILTHY MESSY SMUT, college soccer player!ellie, strap sucking (e receiving), dom/top!ellie, sub/bottom!reader, strap in v (r receiving), degrading, exhibition, choking, fingering (r receiving), consensual secret fuck buddy relationship, locker room shower sex, Ellie can pull on r’s hair, hinted at containing fucking but e receives head
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wc ✎ 1.8k • fic based off of chase atlantic’s song die for me
The utter of her name causes your heart to race. The nerves that overtake you whenever you hear, “Ellie Williams,” make you feel paranoid at times. Nobody would know, there’s no way—and yet you still feel watched at times. Like when people look at you, your mind whispers on about how they know. Somehow they know you slept with Ellie Williams.
In a way, she was considered the Caitlin Clark of your college’s soccer team. Not known around the country, but she’s known within your state—especially within your college campus.
And somehow, you ended up in her bed.
Your friend had offered to go to the soccer game that was happening on campus, suggesting that it be a nice way to spend the day rather than do nothing. These plans were made a while ago, since then things have changed. So now here you stand in line beside her, heart racing yet again from the knowledge of possibly seeing her again.
“You know,” your friend starts, eyes locked on the huge screen displaying advertisements in the entrance, “I never thought I’d go to any of the games our college offers.”
“Yeah me neither.”
She scans her ticket before you, free admission since you’re both students, “I know we’re on the grass but it’s not that bad.”
She walks around, guiding you through the food stand so she could grab a drink. It’s decently crowded, shoulders bumping yours occasionally. While waiting in line your friend makes a signal in hopes you’d lean closer to listen to her.
“I have to grab something from Casey after the game,” she yells.
“Who’s Casey?”
She points to the screen where the name Casey Spring was written on the board.
“Her.”
You did see her name, but the one that caught your attention was the one just below it. Ellie. Her voice contained to chat in your ear explaining why she had to pick something up from her friend, but your attention was mainly directed towards the auburn girl on the field.
Fuck.
Wasn’t long before you somehow ended up underneath her, trapped under her body while the water ran down. Your clothes got soaked, but even more so with how she was kissing you. How you landed this position was baffling, but the second you two saw each other in the empty shower room—she lost it and you melted into her touch.
“Ellie,” you whisper, humming when she kisses you again—pressing you further back against the shower wall. There was no space between the two of you, bodies sliding on one another.
“Ellie,” you whisper again, this time she’s cursing under her breath and shrugging her jersey off.
Somewhere in the room lied another one of her teammates, the shower running hinting at it. You two were almost caught before she came with the clever idea of shoving the two of you into the shower and turning it on.
You had stood before her, eyes locked for a minute in silence. She couldn’t take it much longer, eyes flicking down to yours before she continued to kiss you just as she had before her friend walked in.
Her friend calls from the other stall, yelling out Ellie’s name. Ellie finishes her kiss with you, not rushing her moment with you just to respond to her.
“Do you have any conditioner I can borrow?”
She mouths at your jaw, “yeah, in my backpack. Front pocket.”
You hear the pitter patter of her teammates feet as she steps near the one you two were hiding in. You gasp when she bites down hard, shooting a hand to cover over your mouth.
Your eyes screamed for her to wait, or at least show down but she didn’t. Her fingers trailed down to cup you, sliding her middle finger through your folds. The feeling in your chest was tight as you did everything to not make a sound. Knowing her friend lied just outside the curtain caused a sensation in you, making you drip onto Ellie’s fingers. She circles your clit before pressing onto it—keeping her finger there and grinding it down.
Your chest rose with the air you sucked in sharply, nails hand digging into her shoulder. She smiled, moving your hand to kiss you again.
“Oh finally found it,” her teammate announces, “thanks.”
Ellie doesn’t reply, too busy focused on making you squirm. Apparently Ellie not responding was the opposite of what her teammate wanted. While you’re getting fingered and kissed breathlessly, her teammate was trying to find ways to chat with Ellie—thinking she was upset that they lost the game.
She didn’t want to talk her feelings out, she wanted to fuck you—just like she was doing now. Enjoying watching how your eyebrows are furrowed and you’re hips are squirming under her pace.
“Ellie hey, just wanted to say that you played really well today.”
She wanted to roll her eyes like how you just did when you came—nails actually making her shoulder bleed. You gasped and she was quick to put her hand over your throat—not choking entirely, just keeping it there to remind you to stay quiet.
“You okay?”
“I’m good,” she responded finally, voice horse.
Ellie tugged the rest of your sopping clothes off, dragging them and leaving them to stay at your feet. She kissed down your body, licking over your nipple and smirking at how sensitive you are.
She reaches her hand back out, grabbing the strap she had lying in the back pocket of her backpack. Your eyes widened, looking suprised but also dumbfounded—confused too. She shrugs, mouthing, “what else do you expect?”
“You sure? I just feel bad. I know how you get in your head about this—“
She takes the pent up annoyance and uses it to tug on your hair—guiding you onto your knees in front of her. Her thumb taps at your jaw, opening you so she can slide her length past your lips.
“I’m fine, Jess—fuck me,” Ellie says, almost groaning at the end there when you look up at her.
She uses the close walls, laying your head back against it so you don’t have anywhere to turn—locking you there so she can fuck your mouth. Your mind shuts off so quickly, eyes glossing over and shutting from the slight water that falls from Ellie’s hair and onto your face.
You circle your hips down onto your heel, using the friction onto your throbbing clit. Though you had just come, Ellie’s known to drive you to heaven multiple times if your last night in bed with her said anything. She had you laid out beneath her as she fucked you from behind, ass stinging from where she slapped you. She had you crying, tears running freely down your cheeks from the way she used you. You couldn’t forget that feeling, you don’t beleive your body will ever be the same since her.
“Do you think you did well? I believe you played nicely. Scored the most goals out of anyone.”
She pushes you further down, bottom lip dropping open in a deep silent moan when tears show in the corner of your eyes. You looked like a slut, slick pooling on your bottom lip.
“Y-yeah, fuck yeah I did,” she says, pulling tightly at your hair.
“There you go, I hear the passion in your voice. You did well.”
She angles your face, pulling out and leaning to kiss you again. You wrap your arms around her shoulders, sliding them from up her thighs and up to her neck. Her body makes its way into the floor, leaned back against the white wet wall. Her fingers grip onto you, holding you steady on her lap.
Little sounds and gasps between you while you kiss. Your hips grind onto her length, sliding it between your legs and shuttering.
“Did you have any actual regrets with the game? Like ways we could’ve done better?”
She thrusts up into you, pulling you flesh down onto her. Her length and size splits you open. Your walls grip onto her tightly, making it a little difficult to thrust into you.
“The team could’ve been rougher,” she says, eyeing you and slapping your thigh. You take it as a hint to take over, using what energy you had to slide on her length. She slides a finger into your mouth, smirking when you lick it from the base to the tip.
“I guess so,” her teammate says, still trying to talk to Ellie and it was obviously frustrating her. Not that she didn’t appreciate it, she just was wanting to focus on you and this was interfering it.
You slide back down in a way that bumps with her clit, making her jolt. She hums from the feeling, and thankfully her friend only took it like Ellie was agreeing with her.
“Els,” you whine, voice so quiet and spoken so close to her ear, “Els, fuck me—please.”
Her tattoo shows in your face as she pushes her wet hair back—looking to you with darkened eyes.
“Ride me better then,” she mouths, her words barely spoken.
You try to, really but you’re sore still from the last time between you two. She can tell, she knows—seeing the way you shake atop of her. She takes pity though, hands sliding onto you to hold you in a way so she can fuck up into you.
There’s a bite mark on her neck from where you bit her to keep silent, but it doesn’t do too much—you still whimper, breath hot against her skin. You’re surprised her friend can’t hear the slapping of your skin, or your moans. There’s a chance she can, but she’s believing it’s just something else.
You come with a cry, teeth biting harder into her neck at a different spot. The pleasure overtakes you, wracking your body.
“Okay well, I’m heading out. Just wanted to say you did well today Ellie.”
“And so did you,” she calls out, eyes staring into yours as she brushes your cheek. Your vision is glossy again, and you’re sure you looked wrecked. Body wet and shivering atop her lap, slip on her strap.
As soon as the door to the showers closes, she’s pulling you close with an aggressive tug, “gonna eat me out now or do I have to guide your dumbass again?”
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lymtw · 14 days ago
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"Come here," Toji says, at the sight of the involuntary pout that works wonders to express your internal, dispirited mood. His attention is divided very unevenly between you and the movie playing on the TV, you holding the greater part of his focus. He's watching you for his own peace of mind, hoping that every time you take a break from the movie, to check your phone, you'll spare him a look. You've been quieter than he knows you to be, and you're not sitting even remotely close to him. He's on one side of the couch and you're on the other side.
A few seconds pass since Toji spoke up, and he wonders if you even heard him in the first place, because you didn't respond. He passes on repeating himself when you shift your eyes from the TV to meet his gaze, and though your gloominess isn't because of him, you can't offer him any sort of indication that you're good.
"Sorry, i'm not in the mood to take my clothes off, Toji," you say, your voice a gentle, pitiful excuse for sound. If your voice could be seen, it would be similar to the tragic way that grass blades slowly try to stand up, after being stepped on. If the sound of your voice could be felt, it would be the void-like, almost nauseating feeling in your stomach, that comes with ignored hunger. You sound detached from the bright person Toji knows, and clearly, you're not okay.
"I'm not asking you to undress yourself. I want you to come to me," Toji responds. "You're sitting so far over there, away from me, like I did something to you. For being the most reasonable person I know, this isn't fair, at all." His eyes stay on you as he awaits your response, but he is only met with the sight of you looking down at your hands.
"Be fair. You didn't help me get better at communicating, just to turn the tables on me like this." His tone is sharper, out of urgency. He wants to know what he can do for you, but it's hard to do that when you're there, yet, not there. "Just... come here, ma," Toji tries again, his voice a little softer and understanding. "Please. Let's talk about anything." He pats his thigh, directing you to one of the reserved spots he holds for intimate conversations with you.
You know Toji's stubbornness will not leave you alone. It's impossible to hide anything from him once he's onto you, so you stop prolonging the inevitable and silently do as he says.
You turn off the TV, before walking over to him and settling on his lap. You sit there, with a racing heart, because Toji's attention feels like a spotlight on you. His hands interlock at the small of your back and rest there, as he waits for you to say something. Silence invades the moment while you figure out where to start.
"What's wrong?" He asks, when there is no attempt to speak made by you. Immediately, your throat begins to ache, and your eyes start to sting. It's a question known for breaking people, and you're on the brink of becoming another victim. You think you can widen your eyes to keep them dry or blink away the tears, but the outcome doesn't favor you. Toji's hands shift so that they're splayed out on your lower back. They move up and down in soothing motions, as if he's trying to coax your strong emotions out with the comforting gesture. Like a gloomy sky finally giving in to rain, you cave in to vulnerability.
"Baby?" Toji calls, watching as sadness takes over your features. He sighs as he pulls your twinkly-eyed self into his tight embrace. He hates when you cry. The sound and the sight is the equivalent of pouring acid on his heart. It's torture for him to see that his baby, his sweetheart, his love, has been reduced to streams of tears, but he knows that getting it all out is for your own good. This is the 'alcohol in the wound' part of the process. You don't want to do it, but you'll feel better, afterwards. Just like a real physical wound, Toji will make you get it done. Scream if you must, curl into him like you are trying to go through him, he's not going to abandon you.
"Just breathe, sweet girl," he instructs, when he hears the heart wrenching sound of your stuttered breaths. "Breathe. Give me a good one," he says, rubbing your upper back. You inhale, the act still heavily stuttered, before you exhale. "Good. Again." You repeat the process and get the same trembling breath as a result.
"Fuck," you choke out. Your head feels like it's pulsing, your abdomen burns, your chest feels heavy, as if you have chains tightly wrapped around your torso, and your throat aches. It's all so overwhelming, you feel like there's a disastrous storm ruining you from within.
"Sweetheart, please breathe. You're gonna turn blue any minute now." Toji can't hold you any tighter without crushing you, but he wants to, so badly. This is the lowest he's ever seen you and it's killing him. He has never made you this upset. It's hell to even imagine what you must have endured to get to this point.
"You're safe. I have you," he says, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of your head. "I'm here, baby."
Toji's shoulder is damp from your waterfalls of tears and he can feel an excessive amount of heat radiating from your trembling body. Your crying ceases and all that can be heard are sharp, short inhales and puffs of air, as you try to regulate your breathing. Toji continues running his hands over your back, soothing the tired, tense muscles of your shoulder blades.
"We are gonna have to talk about this later, doll. I know that might not sound like the most fun thing to do, but it'll make you feel better. I want you to feel better."
Toji is mindful of your silence. He knows your voice isn't in the best condition to speak after your surge of emotions, and you're probably exhausted, but this isn't a dead end for him. He'll figure out your needs, and he'll take care of you. Anything to bring your happy, smiling face, back.
Toji allows you to pull away from his shoulder, and instantly takes in the sight of your pretty, ruined face. You don't look at him, and he assumes that your appearance is to blame. Your eyes, they're red and puffy, glimmering in the light with your now contained feelings, and you're still sniffing like you need to blow your nose. It's terrible to see you this way, but he would withstand much more than this, if you needed it.
"How does a bath sound, for now? A bath and then some food? You hungry, mama?" He asks, his expression involuntarily soft, as he runs the pads of his thumbs beneath your eyes, attempting to clean you up a little.
"No," you say, quietly, with the fragility that remains of your voice.
"I'm gonna pick up some food while you relax." Toji almost laughs at the subtle roll of your eyes. "That's my bad. I shouldn't have asked in the first place. You need to eat something."
He doesn't want to put you through any more stress, but when he needs to take care of you, during times like this, he knows what you need more than you do. Your reasoning is clouded by your emotions, and you'll let go of yourself, because your thoughts rewind over and over to what's plaguing your mind. Toji knows you'll be glad he did this for you when you feel better.
"Let's get that bath ready," he says, securing your legs around his waist, before he stands up from the couch. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck, and you breathe in his scent, until you reach the bathroom.
Toji flicks the light on and sets you down on the counter. A chaste kiss is pressed to your tearstained cheek, before he lets you go so he can prepare your bath. You turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror and hate the messy sight before you—the product of your meltdown. You turn on the cold water and splash some on your face, hoping to decrease the puffiness of your eyes, even just a little bit, while Toji is busy. You dry your face afterwards and check your appearance in the mirror, again, to clean up any remaining gunk in your eyes.
When you finish, you turn back, just in time to watch Toji rise from his knelt position by the bathtub. He makes his way back to you and stands between your legs, offering you a contemplative look, and a "hm" to go along with it. No words are exchanged when his hand reaches out to gently cup your jaw, allowing him to turn your head in any way he wants. He leans forward to examine you more closely, to check if anything is "broken". He can see you pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh, as he continues to snoop around.
"Oh," he says, like he found a cable that has simply been disconnected. He turns your head a little, and keeps inspecting the problematic area, building up the suspense for you. You couldn't say it, but him finding something scared you a little, considering you had just looked at your reflection and didn't see anything.
"Don't move, doll. I'll get it." His hand rests on your shoulder, the other on your thigh, as he leans in closer and closer, until his body heat coils around you. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck. It's featherlight, almost like a gentle breeze. Another one lands on the same area, then another, and another, until he hears your little laugh, a sound that brought both of you mutual relief. Your relief came from understanding that Toji didn't actually find anything off, while Toji's came from the miracle of him being able to make you laugh, after what went down not that long ago.
"Two seconds, ma," he says, beneath your ear. He pulls away from you and goes back to the now foam covered, sweet smelling bathtub. He leans down to turn the faucet off, and returns to you, afterwards.
"It's all ready for you," he says. A smile curls on his lips when you raise your arms, signaling for him to pull your shirt off. "You wanna keep your bra and underwear on?" He asks, as he pulls the hem of your shirt up. You nod, just before the material goes over your head. He sets it aside and helps you down, off the counter, so you can take your sweatpants off. You pull your phone out of your pocket and set it on the counter. Your fingers hook into the waistband of your sweatpants and tug downwards, until they just slide down your legs and allow you to step out of them.
Toji watches you carefully step over the edge of the tub, one foot sinking through the foam and into the warm water, followed by your other foot. You crouch down, slowly, until you are able to sit down and eventually lay back. You close your eyes once you're in a comfortable position and just let the warm water and the pretty smell work its magic on you.
Toji kneels beside you, and observes you in a more serious manner than before. His gaze lingers on those tired eyes of yours, for longer than any of your other facial features. Your eyelids are still swollen and the bags beneath your eyes are prominent. The longer he stares, the more he thinks back to how you were so distressed, to the point where you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. It scared him. He didn't get a single word about what was wrong, from you. You couldn't say anything other than that single curse, but even then, you sounded like you were being strangled by your own emotions.
Toji knows this is only a temporary fix— this calm sight of you resting in a bubble bath. Your feelings won't be swept under the rug, because he knows that if it were him going through this exact situation, you wouldn't just give him a hug and call it a day. No, when you take care of his mind and heart, you hold him in your arms and don't let go until he's the one trying to cage himself in your embrace when your arms loosen around him. You keep your voice at an intimate volume as you tell him about your day, because sometimes he isn't immediately ready to talk about what is bothering him, but he still wants to hear you. You cook for him, you give his tired body massages, you shower him with love and affection, and when he's finally ready to tell you what's going on, you listen closely to everything he has to say and you offer him your utmost support. You love and protect him to no end, and he has become shamelessly clingy towards you, because of it.
He wants you to feel as loved as he does. He wants you to know what it's like to experience the same level of care you give him. He may not be able to replicate it to a T, but he's willing to try for you.
"Hey," Toji calls, tenderly running the knuckle of his index finger back and forth, over your cheek. You hum, and blink open your eyes, giving him your attention. "I'm gonna go get us some food. Stay on the phone with me and keep me company until I get back, yeah?"
You nod. "Yeah, okay. Can you bring me my phone, please?"
Toji gets back on his feet and takes one large step towards the counter, retrieving your phone, before taking that same step back to leave it next to you, on the edge of the bathtub.
"Be right back, doll. Pick up the phone as soon as I call, okay?"
"Okay."
His hands grip the edge of the bathtub, to prevent him from falling in, as he leans in to peck your cheek once more. His weight shifts onto one arm so he can bring a hand to your face and rub the kiss into your skin with his thumb.
"Love you, ma."
"Love you, too."
With that, Toji stands up straight and heads towards the door. He takes one last look at your pretty face, before exiting the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He grabs his phone from the couch, his keys from the hook on the wall, and messily slides his shoes on, not bothering to put them on correctly, since he won't be getting out of the car, anyways. He secures the inside of the house, before heading out, and once he's outside, he finds his house key and locks the door. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes haste of clicking the phone icon, and then your contact, as he keeps walking to the car. His phone is now against his ear, and he listens as the line rings once... twice...
"Hi, Toji."
"Hi, baby."
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screampied · 9 months ago
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gojo planned to confess his love to you on valentine’s day.
he had the entire thing set, he was anxious, pondering just what your reaction might be. you were forever on his mind — even now, he was picturing your smile, imagining you returning the words and accepting your gifts. his heart swooned at the thought, the feeling of you finally returning your feelings to him. he’s had a deep love for you as long as he could remember.
“she’s gonna say it back, she’s gonna say it back.”
he repeated those words in his head like a mantra.
just the thought of your name made gojo’s heart race at such a speed. he was in love with you. he figured today would be the perfect time to tell you, smother you with compliments, decorate pretty roses in your hair and maybe snag a polaroid picture with you to keep in the back case of his phone.
although, once he finally meets up with you, he’d never know how foolish he really could have been.
you’d be somewhere outside by yourself, perhaps sitting on the grass and soaking in the humid sun with the most gorgeous relaxed expression. he texted you prior that he wanted to tell you something, very subtlety.
he felt his heart beat pick up at the sheer sight of you—you were so effortlessly pretty. trapped in your own little world. gojo trods his feet up to you, hiding his hands behind his back with a gift he had prepared for you. it was a necklace with a bunch of your favorite candies inside. he also had a cheesy card that read, “do you have a name? or should i just call you mine.”
it made him snort, he found the idea off of google.
as he kept making his way towards you, dragging his feat, he’s repeating his sappy speech a million times in his head. he straightened his tie, reaching for his pocket to grab a rose out of his pocket before he stopped once he saw geto approach you …
with a kiss.
gojo had a slow reaction, he felt like his breath got snatched from his chest. a tough snatch to where he could barely breathe. geto stroked a thumb against your chin before after a few brief seconds, he pulls away. you smiled at him before geto surprised you with a big box of what appeared to be a gift.
“oh..” gojo mutters, feeling trapped, as if his feet was stuck in place. you looked so happy, he started to feel stupid. he’s so ensnared into his own loud screaming thoughts that he doesn’t even realize that you’re standing in front of him now.
“satoru. hey. you wanted to talk to me about something?” you utter, glancing up at him, wondering why his body language was so awkward and stiff.
his jaw tightened before he blinks twice, sighing out a soft. “huh? oh that—oh, it’s uh, nothing,” and then he forces a fake smile on his face. he was too late to win your heart, and it costed his own to be shattered into a million glass pieces.
“are you sure?” you pry.
he gives you a nod, and you literally slip from his fingers the minute you turn your heels to walk away. gojo felt numb, tears started to swell into his eyes as he brought the gift up to his chest.
a single tear runs down his cheek as he watches you walk off into the sunset with geto, cursing to himself mentally that that should have been him. he had a force smile, because in the end — at least you were happy.
“happy valentine’s day,” he sniffles, knowing the true meaning of heartbreak at that particular moment. “i still love you.”
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luveline · 4 months ago
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I know you’re asking for Spencer fics… While I adore single dad!Spencer… How about some single mom!reader and Spencer? 💕
You and your daughter work your way into Spencer’s life one chess game at a time. fem, 1.3k
It all starts with, “Hello.” 
Spencer looks up, and he finds any word he could’ve said dead on his tongue. You smile at him oddly gentle, and he assumes he’s got something on his face your afraid to point out.
“Hi,” you say, unperturbed by his lack of response. You keep your head ducked but seem friendly enough as you lick your lips. “I don’t know if you’re busy, but I was wondering if you’d play chess with my daughter. You don’t have to say yes, but she’s really polite and she won’t cheat, and she really wants to say hi.” 
Spencer looks behind you, where your daughter stands a ways away pretending not to watch. She could only be three of your years old —if she can play chess, she’s a prodigy. She has on stripy tights and a dress, a vinyl coat open over the top, her hands wringing together. 
“Okay,” Spencer says. 
Your smile is even nicer, then. Relief and thankfulness aimed fully at him. “Thank you.” 
You meander back to your daughter and bend down to whisper instructions too quiet for Spencer to hear. Shy, your daughter shimmies forward, then walks proper steps when you encourage her with your hand behind her shoulder. “It’s okay,” you whisper, “let’s say hi.” 
The chess boards are built into the tables at the park. Spencer sits on one stone stool, and your daughter makes herself comfortable on the opposite one. You kneel beside her without worry, knees on the dirty floor. 
“Hi,” your daughter says. She has a high voice, reedy, like she needs a drink. 
You rub her arm. 
“Hello,” Spencer says. “Have you played before?” 
“Me and mom play.” 
“So you know the rules?” 
“Some,” she says. 
Spencer’s only human. He does think about the horror of being trapped opposite of a toddler for the next half an hour bumbling through the steps, but it’s not as though he has other things to do, and, really, he loves people. He’s scared of talking, that’s all. 
“We play a lot on my phone, where it tells her what moves she can and can’t do,” you say. “But it’s okay. I have practice, I can be the phone.” 
Your daughter laughs like this is the funniest thing on the planet. “You don’t look like a phone,” she says. 
“That’s nice of you, but that’s ‘cos you’ve never seen my wires.” 
She laughs again. 
“I know all the rules, too, don’t worry,” Spencer says. “Are those your pieces? Or we can play with mine?” 
“Sofie has her pieces, it’s okay, we don’t wanna lose yours.” 
You let your backpack slip down your back and unveil a chess board box with sellotaped corners. The sleeve inside is unhurt, and you put it in the middle of the table. Spencer takes initiative and grabs the purple ones. You and Sofie arrange the pink ones in a mirror. 
Sofie is surprisingly good at chess, considering her age. Sometimes Spencer ends up playing against you, your advice murmured in her ear, and every time you smile at him he feels a little nauseous.  
He lets her win, of course. The first few times, at least. Over weeks, you and Sofia occasionally see him in the park playing chess, some days in the middle of a game with someone else, other times alone. Sofie comes up to him increasingly confident to ask for the next game, and Spencer realises he’s somehow made two friends. 
“Spencer!” Sofie shouts, tumbling over the grass bank to stop on the end of the retaining wall bordering the chess tables. You’re just behind her, looking tired. 
“Sofie, hi!” 
Sofie jumps down off of the wall before either of you can stop her. “Spencer, where have you been?” She rockets toward him. He stands, worried she’ll fall flat on her face, but she continues to race toward him until she’s throwing her arms around his legs. “I missed you.” 
“Well, I missed you too,” he says, surprised. He gives her back a tentative pat. “I’ve been learning new techniques.” 
“But where did you go?” she asks. 
“I went to Alaska. It was super cold.”
“Hi, Spencer,” you greet, flushed as you plop down on the stone seat opposite him. 
Believe it or not (easily believable), Spencer didn’t ask you your name the first time you met. Or the second. On the third occasion you met, you actually apologised with too much sincerity and said, “I’m so sorry, I never asked what your name was. I can’t believe it. I’m Y/N.” 
So now you’re introduced, and Spencer has a raging crush on you. 
Spencer grins as Sofie sits on his seat, shuffling over so they can sit together. “What, you’re on my team today?” he asks her excitedly. 
“Yes!” She pats the chess board. “Mom, my pieces.” 
“It’s okay, we can use mine.” Spencer’s are already out on the table. He’d been hoping to see you both. 
“I won’t lose them,” Sofie promises. 
“I might. Where have you been, Spencer? Sof made us come here four times last week, we had to play chess with Melinda.” 
“I was working,” he says. “We’re always going somewhere far away, I didn’t realise we’d be there for so long.” 
“‘Cos he’s a special agent,” you whisper to Sofie. 
She puts a finger over her lips, “Mom, don’t so loud!” 
“Sorry, I’m sorry.” You nudge a King back onto his square. “Did I blow your cover?” you ask, your voice a rolling murmur.
Spencer holds Sofie’s back reactively as she wiggles on the seat. He has an answer. He should play along —he’s been reading up on how to flirt like he’s not a lonely weirdo and that’s with confidence and running jokes, but the way you’re looking at him stops him in his tracks. 
No one ever mentions the panic of a shared smile. 
“What happens if people find out?” Sofie asks worriedly. 
“Nothing happens, Sofie, I’m the boring kind of special agent where nothing I do is a secret.” He winces at her crestfallen expression. “I’m sorry. Maybe we can have a secret mission together? Me, you, and mom?” 
“Really?” you ask, surprised. 
Spencer nods enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah! Yeah, of course.” 
“Like… dinner?” 
Spencer bites the tip of his tongue, to an immediate sting. It’s not the first time in his life a conversation he’s in has occurred without him: you’re shared smile was you flirting first. His reciprocation, while not intended, has served as flirtation. 
He didn’t mean to do it, but he doesn’t care, he won’t mess it up, “If you want to?” He clears his throat, his voice returning to a more acceptable tenor. “We could go for dinner… tonight.” 
“Tonight?” 
“Not tonight. Not… unless you want to?” 
“We didn’t have dinner yet,” Sofie says helpfully. 
Your gaze falls to the chess board. “I don’t think I’m dressed for dinner. I had such a long shift.” You’re shrugging, minimising yourself. 
Spencer moves his and Sofie’s first pawn. “You always look beautiful.” 
He cannot look at you after he says it, but he doesn’t need to. 
“Mom, you're doing that smile like when Mr. Mailman brings our letters.” 
“Thank, Sofie,” you say. 
Spencer sneaks a glance at your smile. It’s decidedly shy, and if he were to touch your cheek, he guesses he’d find your skin warming. “What does he do when he brings the letters?” Spencer asks. 
You pin him with wide eyes. 
“He says she’s pretty with a big ‘p’,” Sofie whispers. 
“She is pretty,” Spencer whispers back. 
You move a chess piece with a breathless laugh. “Okay, then let’s get dinner after I wipe the floor with you both.” 
Spencer decides now is the appropriate time to reveal that he is very good at chess. He and Sofie win in ten moves. 
1K notes · View notes
fangirl-dot-com · 4 months ago
Text
🎮 Go Outside and Touch Some Grass
*part of the best of both worlds series*
Driver: Max Verstappen Genre: SMAU/Fluff Occupation: Streamer
☆ TAG LIST IS CLOSED ☆ *if you were not tagged I could not find you*
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liked by y/nsworld, streamermax, and 3,204 others
f1wags in honor of max reaching 1 million subscribers on twitch, here is a little biography for the new fans
max emilian verstappen is a dutch streamer most known for his hilarious sim racing and trying to play call of duty. max has been dating red bull's number 1 driver, y/n l/n, since late 2021. he is 26 years old, only 3 years older than y/n. as of right now, he lives in Monaco with l/n in their shared apartment, but does have another house in the Netherlands close to his mom (y/n and he go there often).
the pair has two bengal cats, jimmy and sassy, that they both love.
max was most known for dating model kelly piquet from 2019 to early 2021, but the couple had a mutual breakup. max first met y/n at a fan event after max placed first in one of the first Red Bull F1 challenges. everyone says they hit it off during summer break.
a little hidden fact is that max used to kart with Ferrari's Charles Leclerc when they were younger. an interview video resurfaced and many fans now love to tease the two whenever they're seen together. click here for the link!
max is very well loved in the f1 community since he is l/n's second public boyfriend. they couple are very private but not hidden, just the way they like it. please treat our cat loving wag well!
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liked by maxverstappen, y/nsworld, and 2,304,930 others
y/nl/n1 and that's number 9! simply lovely to have equaled my record once again this year! hoping I can hit 10 and 11 during this triple header!
thank you to all who came out today. you mean the world to me 🧡
see all comments
maxverstappen I love you schatje! keep up the good work 🧡
y/nl/n1 🧡😘
y/n.nation every time I try to beat max to the likes but he's always there first
maxs_keyboard I was once just a fan of max, but I'm glad I'm an f1 fan now!
simracersunite anyone else here from that tweet this past weekend? didn't even know this sport existed
cashmoney meeeee! but now that I've seen this queen dominate a lot of men, I'm here for her now
charles_leclerc maybe let us make some new records?
y/nl/n1 how about you just start winning more? 🧐
maxverstappen what she said Charles ☺️
charles_leclerc I will cause another incident max 😒
redbullracing that's our girl 🧡💙
maxverstappen no. mine.
y/nsworld congrats queen 👑
maxverstappen has posted
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liked by y/nl/n1, maxverSTOPen, and 23,209 others
maxverstappen glad to be back in the paddock to cheer on my lovely girlfriend! thank you redbullracing for the invite :D
see all comments
maxverSTOPen EVERY TIME I TRY TO BEAT Y/N AND SHE'S ALREADY HERE???
streammv was glad to see you on the big screen max!
maximillianver GUYS WHAT ARE ALL THESE F1 FANS DOING IN THE LIKES
maxsworld 🤺 stay back we had him first
y/nl/n1 my lucky charm 🥰
maxverstappen I think you can win without me but thank you 🥺
twitchoverall what's next, someone is going to tell me that Lando Norris is also an f1 driver and not just a streamer??
ln4fan uh mate, I think you need to sit down for this one
maxskeyboard HAPPY 1 MILLION SUBS MAX
y/nl/n1 has posted
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liked by y/nschild, maxverstappen, dior, and 3,203,847 others
y/nl/n1 quick back home before Silverstone!
max wouldn't get off his stream tho, so I had to kidnap him (sorry twitch)
see all comments
y/nschild LET IT BE KNOWN I WAS HERE BEFORE MAX
charles_leclerc let me know if jimmy and sassy want to have a play date with Leo 😊
y/nl/n1 definitely soon Charlie! maybe summer break?
maxverstappen our children are not going to play with that dog
y/nl/n1 but maaxxx, they can be besties 🥺
charles_lerclerc 🥺
maxverstappen fine. one playdate is all you get leclerc.
maxsworld I guess we can't gatekeep max anymore 😭
max&kelly I still think max could do better 🙄
biggestkellyhater please rethink your statement. kelly was borderline a pedophile and max was so depressed he didn't stream for months. we should be thanking y/n for making max the happiest he has ever been
y/nxmax and that's on PERIOD 💅
verstappencats awwww jimmy and sassy update 🥺
streamonmax sooooo when is the next stream king?
TAG LIST: @scuderiadevils @marauderssworld @mehrmonga @glitterquadricorn @sinofwriting @splaterparty0-0 @ayohockeycheck @evalynkillgrave @bookishnerd1132 @vellicora @misty-inferno @minkyungseokie @khaylin27 @how-what-why-huh @theblueblub @zacian117 @fly-me-away @blueblink @ilove-tswizzle @sinnerpalace @thatgirlmj @spilled-coffee-cup @iangelofmusic @suns3treading @roszszs @2pagenumb @ietss @morgan-getty @younxii @phantomxoxo @pastryboyyy @lolzzzzzzzzzz @halleest @ggaslyp1 @skepvids @mil0sworld @u5dthsduttd @silkenthusiasts @coldcola @annispamz @fionaschicken @littlegrapejuice @boiohboii @crashingwavesofeuphoria @lancestrollsgf @tribbisweetdear @graciewrote @lozzamez3 @residentdegenerate @e-nonsense
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propertyofwicked · 5 months ago
Text
FAKING AN INTEREST
f1 grid x platonic!reader (implied landoxreader) smau
based on this request! (this may need a pt 2 honestly)
warnings: none, just men having the audacity
masterlist the playlist
⭑・゚゚・*:༅。.。༅:*゚:*:✼✿  ✿✼:*゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
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yourusername made a new post!
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 21,223 others
yourusername what the fuck is a DRS?
view all 9,211 comments
danielricciardo what he say fuck me for?
⤷ yourusername hi! im free may 28 if you want to hangout may 28 lmk im not doing anything may 28 please msg me if ur available may 28 so we could maybe hangout or do something may 28 !!
⤷ danielricciardo ill clear my schedule - what day did u say u were free?
⤷ username1 mad about being labelled as a fake f1 fan only to turn around and flirt with the drivers? is she fr?
⤷ yourusername get a job, touch grass?
username2 how does she know them im so confused
⤷ username3 she went to school with oscar i think?
logansargeant will you stop posting the worst pictures of me?
⤷ yourusername say please?
⤷ logansargeant please y/n im begging
⤷ yourusername start using the metric system and i'll consider it.
lilymhe come back to williams i miss u
⤷ yourusername can i bring lilyzneimer? 🥺
⤷ lilymhe omg yes!! lily-ception
⤷ oscarpiastri @/yourusername dont take my girlfriend to enemy territory tf?
⤷ logansargeant enemy? ☹️
yourusername made a new post!
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liked by lilyzneimer, oscarpiastri, and 34,502 others
yourusername congrats on driving fast bestie
tagged: oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer, jensonbutton
view all 7,210 comments
username4 jenson button? what are you doing here?
⤷ yourusername forming a danica patrick hate club
⤷ yourusername we're discussing gentle parenting tactics for logan <3
⤷ logansargeant is this why jenson keeps telling me that sharing is caring??
⤷ jensonbutton in my defence i told her it wouldn't work 🤷
⤷ yourusername we'll see about that - alex_albon do you feel cared for?
⤷ alex_albon im staying out of this.
oscarpiastri thank you y/n!
⤷ yourusername so proud of u bestie
⤷ oscarpiastri i already paid for dinner you can stop pretending to be nice now
⤷ yourusername brb faking an interest in our friendship rn
⤷ username10 she's never letting that comment go fr
username7 their friendship confuses me but im so here for it
username8 oscar paid? who's shocked
⤷ username9 not me!
⤷ username10 not me!
⤷ yourusername me tbf he usually forgets his wallet
⤷ oscarpiastri i leave it on purpose, actually
⤷ yourusername gold digger 🫵
username8 she literally only goes to the races so that she can post about it on ig and pretend she knows what's going on
logansargeant you never congratulate me :(
⤷ yourusername tf u want me to congratulate u for? brushing your teeth?
⤷ logansargeant no one else will :(
username6 where did u find that picture of oscar?
⤷ yourusername wdym find? i took it loool
yourusername made a new post!
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liked by logansargeant, lilymhe and 7,893 others
yourusername glorified uber drivers
tagged: logansargeant, alex_albon
view all 1,235 comments
logansargeant best biscuits ever
⤷ username5 biscuits?? that wasn't very wtf is a kilometer of you
⤷ yourusername one of us! 🇬🇧 one of us! 🇬🇧 one of us! 🇬🇧
⤷ landonorris one of us! 🇬🇧 one of us! 🇬🇧 one of us! 🇬🇧
⤷ alex_albon one of us! 🇬🇧 one of us! 🇬🇧 one of us! 🇬🇧
⤷ logansargeant oh! so this is hell!
landonorris cute! don't do it again!
⤷ yourusername i snapped the head off yours hoping it was a voodoo doll.
⤷ username3 do they hate each other or..?
⤷ yourusername yes.
⤷ landonorris cancelling our lunch plans
⤷ yourusername i was kidding pls dont im so hungry
⤷ username4 lunch plans? y'all seeing this???
username6 the picture of logan im dead
⤷ yourusername he was modelling for his cookie design
lilymhe i want the alex one
⤷ yourusername boxed it up just for u <3
⤷ yourusername alex said he'd give it to u later
⤷ alex_albon i lied. i ate it. no regrets.
yourusername made a new post!
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yourusername lando norris fakes an interest in the menu
tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri
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username5 y/n out here living our dream </3
⤷ username6 god i have seen what you've done for others 🙏
⤷ yourusername lando eats chicken nuggets with a fork you can have him
⤷ landonorris this is defamation, my lawyers will be in contact.
landonorris in my defence, that place was FANCY and i wanted to pretend i wasn’t about to order chicken nuggets and chips
⤷ yourusername fancy?? oscar literally ordered a cheeseburger??
⤷ oscarpiastri dont expose me like that y/n
⤷ logansargeant one of us! 🇺🇸🦅 one of us! 🇺🇸🦅
⤷ yourusername it's not funny when u do it <3
logansargeant you never want to go to lunch with me :(
⤷ username7 logan try not to get jealous challenge - hard
⤷ yourusername i literally had brunch with you like yesterday?
⤷ logansargeant ok and?
username11 she is never gonna let that comment go is she. we get it, you know f1.
⤷ yourusername why should i?
⤷ username11 it wasnt that deep
⤷ yourusername why should i give david coulthard the platform to perpetuate negative commentary on women in motorsport?
⤷ yourusername why do we keep allowing men to talk down to women with genuine interests instead of providing them with opportunities to excel in the field?
⤷ username2 say it louder for the people in the back queen
username1 lando looks so fineeeee
⤷ yourusername too bad he sucks at chess
⤷ landonorris you cheated!
lilymhe u look so sexy let me take u out 🫢
⤷ yourusername only if ur paying 🫢
⤷ lilymhe we’ll put it on alex’s card
⤷ yourusername sounds good
⤷ alex_albon do i have a say in this?
⤷ lilymhe no.
⤷ yourusername no.
⤷ landonorris no.
⤷ oscarpiastri no.
yourusername made a new post!
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yourusername y/n l/n fakes an interest in getting her degree 🍾🥂
tagged: ybfusername, youruniversity
view all 2,103 comments
landonorris that caption isn't even a lie 🤐
⤷ yourusername sorry cant hear you over the sound of me being a graduate
⤷ landonorris did you not literally spend the last year asking if you’d “finish this degree or if it would finish you” ??
⤷ yourusername i literally have a piece of paper that says i finished it
⤷ landonorris talk to me when you get a trophy
⤷ yourusername ok mr won one race now thinks hes the shit
⤷ username4 gagged.
landonorris but fr, congratulations y/n! proud of you always!
⤷ username4 always huh? im smelling soft launch
⤷ username9 go back to bed grandma
oscarpiastri congrats on reading and writing stuff bestie!
⤷ yourusername thanks king! <3
username6 intelligent queen we loveee
username6 suck on that david coulthard.
⤷ yourusername he better be sleeping with one eye open
⤷ username11 got a degree and now thinks she's better than a literal racing legend
⤷ yourusername dude do u like need a hug or something? if i didn't know any better id think you were in love with me
username2 shes so unserious i love her
lilyzneimer congratulations gorgeous!
⤷ yourusername congratulations to you too lil <3
⤷ username3 hot girls get degrees 🤷 i don't make the rules
⤷ lilyzneimer still cant believe the girl that used to sleep in biology graduated university
⤷ yourusername me neither tbf
⤷ oscarpiastri same.
⤷ yourusername no one asked u vroom vroom
username13 what was your dissertation on?
⤷ yourusername net-zero carbon development in race mechanisms and engineering !
⤷ username13 oh you SMART smart
⤷ landonorris debatable
logansargeant well done! does this mean no more highlighters abandoned on the floor of williams hospitality?
⤷ alex_albon please say yes 🙏
⤷ yourusername but watching you trip over them was so funny 😟
ybfusername those 3am library trips finally paid off! 🙏
⤷ yourusername jet lagged delirium and caffeine i will miss u
⤷ ybfusername im so proud of us
lilymhe graduate, baker, sexiest woman alive - is there anything you cant do?
⤷ yourusername have a genuine interest in motorsport 🤷
⤷ lilymhe wait till they find out you fake an interest in golf too 💀
⤷ yourusername im only there to see u bbygirl
yourusername made a new post!
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yourusername here to watch my friends drive fast cars.
tagged: lilymhe, landonorris
view all 703 comments
landonorris well, some of us drive fast cars
⤷ alex_albon what are you trying to say?
⤷ landonorris speak up a bit i cant hear you from the podium
username8 lando? yn?
⤷ username8 i feel like im interupting something
⤷ username4 can we let them just be friends and not ruin this pls
lilymhe oh we are so back
⤷ yourusername and we’re never leaving! <3
⤷ alex_albon oh god
⤷ logansargeant please no
⤷ yourusername fine, ill leave 😟
mclaren hope to see you in our garage soon y/n!
⤷ yourusername i have always looked good in papaya
⤷ username8 admin how much did lando pay u to say that?
⤷ mclaren 🤫
oscarpiastri williams take her back she keeps slapping my hat across the room
logansargeant you literally told me you're only here to get max’s autograph and sell it on ebay?
⤷ yourusername ok and?
⤷ maxverstappen1 poster or hat?
⤷ yourusername both please 🫶
⤷ maxverstappen1 bring a pen
⤷ username7 what have i just read?
⤷ maxverstappen1 im supporting y/n's financial endeavours?
2K notes · View notes
midnightbluebells03 · 5 months ago
Note
Request: The reader and ellie are friends, but the reader doesn't know if she likes girls or not, so ellie offers to let her experiment on her. Friends to lovers and mutual pining. 💓 a happy ending, preferably. Up to you whether or not to include smut!
FALLING INTO ME
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CW - hair pulling, mentions of past experiences with men, oral (R receiving), thigh grinding
WC - about 2k - no outbreak AU
Leave me Ellie or Abby requests x
This was wrong right? Infront of you your childhood best friend Ellie sits crossed legged on her bed. The faded plaid sheets that have replaced dinosaurs from her youth clutched in your unforgiving grasp.
"We don't have to do anything" she says barely above a whisper. Like she's afraid to even suggest it. The air is tight, hot, like someone lit a fire and let the smoke invade the room. But there's Ellie. Her hand sitting on your thigh as her thumb swipes across bare skin, the floral sleep shorts you had opteded for letting her trace over it with no barrier. Her back pressed to the headboard like it's the only thing keeping her sitting upright. "I shouldn't have said anything I'm sorry". Her hand retreats with a slight tremble.
Just ten minutes ago you were sharing a bottle of some cheap wine Ellie had got from the corner store. Giggling and reminiscing on your intertwined lives, awkward teen phases that melted into adulthood when you let it slip.
You think you might like girls.
Of course you weren't sure, you'd never done anything with a girl, but all your experiences with boys just felt empty. Felt like a chore more than fun. And who better to tell than Ellie? She had been out for years, having had her fair share of girlfriends despite her slightly awkward attitude at times. When the word 'experiment' left your lips you saw a glint in her eyes.
It made her pause, wipe her mouth with the back of her hand and place the bottle onto the nightstand. Making space for it amongst the clutter. The way she looked at you made you tilt your head in confusion, until she opened her mouth.
"You could experiment with me"
"Ellie" you finally speak up, grasping her wrist gently to halt her movement. Fingers grazing over her tattoo and making her gaze snap from the floor to your eyes. God she did really have the prettiest eyes. You'd always thought so, oftentimes comparing the hues to the fresh grass during summer or the moss growing deep in your parents garden. "I want to"
"Yeah?" She looks like she doesn't believe you, eyebrows slightly knitted together. You swallow hard before nodding, Ellie beckons you over with her hand. "Cm'here" when you inch closer you can't help but watch how Ellie flicks her tounge over her slightly chapped lips. Feeling her slowly move to hold onto your waist as you start to straddle her lap while your hands rest on her shoulders. "If you want to stop just tell me okay?"
"Promise" you feel your heart speed up as Ellie leans in. Far enough where you could kiss her but she let's you make the choice. So you do. Pressing your lips to hers and letting your eyes flutter shut.
And it makes it feel like a firework has went off in your chest.
The two of you mesh together like puzzle pieces, soft and slow while your mind races with a million thoughts. You can feel how Ellie is holding back, her hands not moving from their position on your waist. But after a few minutes when you rock your hips forward slightly you could almost swear she groans into your mouth. So you do it again, making her pull back from the kiss.
"Can I touch you?" She was always like this, always asking a million question. Things like if you wanted the last slice of pizza or what movie to put on. She always let you take the lead, like she was afraid of making the wrong choice. You nod but she just chuckles softly. "Words darling" it makes you want to clentch your thighs together, the way her her accent slips into that semi texan drawl that she picked up from Joel.
Your hands come over the top of hers, guding her up and under your tank top "Please Els"
Her fingers are calloused from the years of guitar, running up your skin slowly. Too slowly. But you don't want to complain, not with the way she's looking at you. Eyes following her hands as she pushes the fabric further up your body. You decide to speed it up a little. Taking the fabric in your own hands and pulling it over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room.
Normally this is when you'd start to feel weird. Your body would almost stiffen and your brain would be flooded with thoughts of leaving. A deep guilt or twisted knot in your throat.
But not now.
Not with Ellie.
Instead your stomach tightens at how her eyes take you in. Slowly scanning over you like you're the most breath taking thing she's even seen. Her hands pause just before reaching your breasts, her pupils so blown her green eyes as almost black as she looks up at you.
"Take it off?" She whispers. Her finger coming up to ghost over the band of your bra. You nod, reaching around with shaky hands to undo the clasp. Letting the bra fall onto Ellie's lap in the sliver of space between you two. She picks it up and moves it to the side, carefully. Like it was priceless even though it was the cheapest one you owned. Some target bralette that was on sale. It was nothing like how your previous partners treated your belongings. With them it was always thrown across the room like trash, nothing more than an obstacle to their pleasure. "You're so- you're just so- fuck" Ellie mumbles before chewing on her bottom lip. Her cheeks flushed the sweetest shade of pink as her hands slowly creep up your sides, inching towards your breasts.
"Ellie" you whine softly, the ache between your legs become worse with every passing second. Like you were dying for her to just touch you. It makes her lock eyes with you, as her thumb runs over your nipple. Making them stiffen and forcing a soft gasp from your lips.
"Just tell me what you want baby" her lips trail down your neck slowly as she mumbles into your skin. "I'll give you everything just tell me"
Your voice cracks slightly as you finally manage to say "Touch me"
You can feel as a slight smirk creeps onto her lips. Her fingers continuing to toy with your nipples. Just enough to make you needy but not enough to scratch the itch in your core. "I am". The faux innocence in her voice makes you roll your eyes.
"Ellie" you huff, feeling your face heat up at what you're about to say. "Fuck me please? Wanna know what it's like" with that Ellie leans into your neck fully while her hands keep on your chest, starting to place kisses down your skin as your head tips back. You can feel her smile as she moves further down, nipping slightly at your pulse point. Your hand moves to her hair, gripping softly while your hips uncontrollably start to rock against her. Desperate for any friction. Ellie pulls back but before you can complain she taps your hip.
"Straddle my thigh" you tilt you head confused but she gives you a smile before brushing a lose strand of hair out your face. "Trust me". So you do what she's asks, shifting until your legs are either side of her thigh. Ellie brings her hands to your hips, starting to steadily rock you against her. You gasp then moan softly. Almost teary eyed at finally getting some real touch from her. Even if it's clad by several layers of fabric. "See? How's that feel?"
"Good" you say with a shaky voice as Ellie sets your pace. Guiding you with a tight grip. "Feels good Ellie fuck"
"Mm" she coos softly, kissing over your collarbones before nipping at the sensitive spot where your neck and shoulder meet. "Just gotta get you ready yeah? Get you all wet for when I fuck you so good you'll forget about all the guys that couldn't make you cum". Her lips move down to your hardened nipples, wrapping around one of them as you throw you head back in pleasure.
Now this Ellie?
This was a whole new person. Like her awkward shell broke away and left someone who you were going to be thinking about forever. Suddenly all the girls she managed to get with make sense, because she's hardly touched you and you're soaking through your panties.
"Fuck" your hands tighten on her shoulders as her tounge rolls over your nipple. You still your hips, almost afraid that she'll make you cum just from this and that makes her pause. Detaching from you with a confused look.
Her eyebrows knit together and her hand comes up to cup your hot cheek. "You okay?"
Maybe it's the wine, maybe it's the years of subtle crushing. Or maybe it's the way your almost certain there's a wet patch on Ellie's pyjama bottoms but you can't help stumbling out. "Fuck me Ellie"
Her hand snakes back down to your hip and she flips you over, making you squeal as your back hits the sheets. A slight giggle leaving your lips before Ellie crashes hers with yours. Her hand moving down your stomach to the band of your shorts. She pulls back but you don't give her a a chance to ask, already pulling off your shorts and panties. Kicking them onto the floor as Ellie moves down to between your legs.
"What you doing?" You ask with a slight tilt to your head, propping yourself onto your elbows to look down at her.
"What's it looks like?" She asks with a slight chuckle, starting to pepper kisses up your inner thighs but pausing before reaching your dripping pussy. "What? No one eat you out before?". Her smile fades when you shake your head, eyes darting between you and the sight before her. "That's just criminal dude"
Before you can comment on the fact she's just called you dude her tounge licks a fat strip through your folds. Making you gasp and grip the sheets. Skilled tounge circling your clit while her eyes stay focused on you. With a certain flick your hand flies to grab onto her auburn locks, tugging from the root as Ellie moans into you.eyes fluttering shut as your hips start to rutt against her face, changing a high you've never even come close to with others.
"Ellie" you whine as your back arches, soft pants filling the room as her hands creep up your hips and pull you closer. Making you moan so loudly you're almost certain anyone walking by outside would've heard. "Fuck, fuck, Els- gonna-!". Ellie doesn't falter, doesn't give you a second to breath as your orgasm rushes through you. Hips desperately trying to escape Ellie's grasp as she works you through it, no sign of caring about the way your thighs clamp around her head unforgivingly.
By the time she pulls away to lick your slick from her lips your brain is fuzzy. Staring up at the same ceiling you helped pull glow in the dark stickers off as Ellie taps your shin.
"You...you okay?" Her voice sounds so small. You finally manage to hold yourself up to look at her. Lips swollen from your teeth sinking into them and face hot to the touch.
"That...Els that-" your words get caught in your throat so instead you reach for the collar of her shirt. Pulling her up until your lips crash together, the taste of yourself filling your mouth as Ellie places a hand on the back of your neck.
When you two part she gives you a cocky smile. Gliding her fingers across your cheek before moving the loose babyhairs out of your face. "I'm gonna take that as a five star review then?"
You giggle before fake thinking. "Hmm I don't know Els think I need to try it again, yknow get all the data".
She nods with pursed lips, a serious expression taking over her face. "For science".
"For science".
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dreamingcricket · 1 year ago
Note
politely requesting either halsin or astarion with a tav/reader who like..shrugs off their advances bc they don’t think someone like either of them would take interest in them. like very oblivious to the fact that people actually like them. (totally not self indulgent lmao) ((i love mutual pining to lovers i-))
CW: Mild sexual content, reader is injured
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Astarion has started to question whether this is your way of gently rebuffing him, or you're actually this dense.
He's not a subtle flirt. He uses all his most seasoned tricks, exhausts every overture he can think of. He can't remember wanting anyone this much. And yet, every one of his suggestive quips is laughed off.
He's there in the morning, sliding in beside you as you drink your tea. "Good morning, beautiful. You're looking absolutely radiant today." He runs a finger down your arm. When you blush and smile back, something warms in the pit of his stomach.
He's there as you put on your armour. "Allow me, dove." And as he tightens the straps on your mantle, he lets his fingers brush the underside of your jaw. "There. Just right." He purrs into your ear.
And of course, when he feeds. He takes his time, pulling you close, cradling your head, running his fingers through your hair. He nuzzles into your neck before he bites, pressing his lips against your rabbiting pulse for just a moment longer than he should.
Even in battle, when he's swiftly at your back, flashing you brilliant smiles as he races to your defense, you jovially thank him, like you do all your companions. Like he's your friend. Just your friend.
All efforts so far, completely ignored.
So now he watches you from across camp, the firelight dancing across your features as you laugh (he tries to ignore the tender stirring in his chest at the sound).
He throws back his glass of wine, and grimaces at the pitying glances of his compatriots. Of course it was obvious to anyone except you.
You stood, bid Wyll and Karlach goodnight, but instead of disappearing into your tent, you vanished into the brush.
Astarion sat for a long moment. He should let you go. You clearly weren't interested, and he should just... move on. Like he always had.
Who are you kidding, you fool?
He didn't care that he startled Gale with his speed and he pursued you into the woods.
You were seated on a rock, your face turned up toward a shaft of moonlight, eyes closed. He stopped to admire you.
"Sorry I took off. I just wanted to enjoy the quiet."
"I'll go, if you want me to."
You start, and turn towards his voice. "Astarion, didn't expect you."
"Were you expecting someone?"
"No... just-
He's suddenly surging forward without thought, and the two of you are rolling across the grass.
"Astarion, what the fu-"
He silences you with a burning kiss, brimming with anger and desperation. You roll him onto his back, furiously returning his advance. "What-" you pant between kisses. "-took you so long, idiot."
He's furiously tugging at your linen shirt, baring your back and shoulders. You'd be angry if you weren't still reeling.
"You never flirted back!" He pins you down, only to find his hips locked between your legs.
"I flirt constantly, Astarion! You drink my blood every night! I've been waiting for you to take the next step for weeks!" Now it's you tearing at his shirt, your hands groping for purchase on his shoulders. "I thought you didn't think of me like that." Now it's your lips against his neck, and he chokes on a moan.
"That's not flirting!" He's never been this heated during sex. He's a collected lover, and for all the inherent violence of his existence, he realizes - he wants to be gentle. At least this time.
He takes your hands in his and stills your thrashing. You lock eyes, both of you out of breath, chests heaving. He places a single, gentle kiss to the palm of your hand. "Shall we begin again, love?"
"I'd like that."
"My name's Astarion. You are a truly stunning creature," he leans down, and whispers to you, "... and I'd very much like to make love to you tonight."
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Halsin thinks you are quite possibly the most extraordinary person he's ever met.
 
He can't erase the image of you the first time he saw you from his mind, eyes ablaze, arcane power crackling at your fingertips. 
He's had so many partners, but all of his love affairs were brief, transient. Deep, but nothing had ever moved him like this. Typically, Halsin is straightforward with his feelings. His passing dalliances with fellow druids and traveling rangers had never daunted him. But with you, making his feelings known was... complicated.
You'd been through a significant trauma, and while you put on a quite the brave face, ever the intrepid leader, he's been around long enough to see your fragility. You'd seen so many horrors in such a short amount of time. Emotions were running high, he wouldn't risk coming on too strong.
So instead... he brought you gifts. It was a very natural way to court someone, at least. Baskets of berries, a fresh catch from the river, perhaps they're gifts to his own taste, but he hopes you'll enjoy them.
He offered to braid your hair, to help ease the tension in your shoulders with a massage in the evenings (his hands are absolutely enormous, which certainly helps). 
And, unbeknownst to the rest of the camp, and to his mild shame, he couldn't help but rub his scent near your tent. He wouldn't invade your boundaries and touch your things, but he couldn't help his instincts. Lae'zel noticed at last, but only scoffed and offhandedly remarked, "The way you dance around your affections is pathetic. Tell them, or stop simpering."
Things eventually came to a head when you were injured, badly. The arrow tore through your side, and you hit the ground before you could register you'd been shot, the world became pain and a blur of color and noise. 
Halsin was by your side in a heartbeat, shielding you with his frame as spells and arrows flew overhead.
"Don't move little one, you're losing blood." He sounded calm, but there was a tremor in his voice. You'd never seen him afraid before.
"Halsin..."
"Shh, shh. Hold still." His magic flows through you, and the muscles in your side knit back together as he pulls the arrow free.
"Halsin." Your hand lifted to weakly brush his cheek. Your vision was swimming. 
The thunderous roar of battle magic echoed nearby. Gale rushed towards you. "Are they alright?"
"They will be." Halsin spoke it like an oath. "But they're weak." 
"We'll finish this, get them to safety!"
Halsin cradled your body to his chest and barreled off the battlefield. You drifted in and out of consciousness, but were always aware of his arms around you. They felt like safety. Like home.
The druid ducks behind a half destroyed wall, and begins to reassess your wound. "Gods, you frightened me." He lays you down carefully, head in his lap, and begins to clean the wound. 
You smile up at him. "Thank you."
"No need to thank me."
"I like this."
He's puzzled. "Being horribly injured?"
"Being held by you." 
At that moment, your body finally gave out, and your vision went black. 
When you woke, bandaged and sore, in your tent, Halsin was sitting by your bedroll with his back to you. Recalling in horror the confession you'd made, you try to pretend you were still asleep. 
"I know you're awake, little one." 
You sigh. "I'm... about what I said, I'm sorry. I know you don't feel that way, and-" 
"Stop." He turned and placed a finger against your lips. "No more words." 
You braced for his rejection. At least the druid was kind, empathetic. Or perhaps his pity would make it worse. 
His lips coming down on yours were not what you expected. He was gentle, and smelled of moss and pretrichor, dark soil and sweat. You kissed him back, laughing into his mouth. 
He pulls away, then presses his forehead to yours. "I'm here. As long as you'll have me." 
"Oh, I intend to." Your attempt to sit up is hampered by a shock of pain from your wound. "Ow. Shit."
Halsin guides you back down to your pillows. "All in good time, little one."
6K notes · View notes
aurumalatus · 1 month ago
Text
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 (𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔)
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pairing. kinich x fem!reader
word count. 3.4k
genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers (yes kinich literally invented this trope okay. sue me), mini-drabbles, childhood to university, modern!au, fluff and slight angst, lots of bantering but it's light-hearted i promise
summary.
you've always been a sore loser—kinich is just the only one brave enough to say it. or, you and kinich fall in love over the course of your lives, and one thing never changes—you're both idiots
author's note. credit to @/scythidol for the header images! a bit of a different fic format this time (who is she....). i'm sick over kinich, i have nothing clever to say or excuses to make. that's all, thank you for reading! i'm finishing this at 5am so i'll fix any errors later lol. reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!
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I.
“You’re annoying.”
The old TV in your backyard treehouse buzzes with static and the constant thumps of Kinich’s fingers against the controller buttons.
It’s a summer evening—crickets chirp merrily in the grass and lightning bugs float lazily through the air, glowing among the stars. You’re sitting next to him, knees pulled to your chest and the straw of a Capri-Sun settled between your lips.
His reaction (or lack thereof) to your words leaves you less than entertained, a sour pout fixed on your lips as he sighs.
“You’re a sore loser. We said whoever got up here first got to play first.” Despite the intense game occurring on the screen in front of him, he diverts about half his attention to watching you out of the corner of his eye. “And I got up here first.”
“But you always win,” you whine. Kinich nudges at his own juice box with his knee, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and holding it to his lips—he drinks gratefully, still focused on his game. You’re not sure why you keep agreeing to this bet; you don’t think you’ve ever won.
“Then you need to get faster.”
Both of you know that such a feat would be impossible—Kinich has been the fastest kid in your grade since you started school. His athleticism affords him a bit of popularity, still at the age where winning a playground race is essentially the deciding factor between the cool kids and the lame ones. But he’s not interested in any of that, and he makes that quite clear in his actions.
After all, all the popular kids avoid him since he started a fight with them last year. 
“They were saying things about you,” he’d shrugged, like it was no big deal. The school seemed to think a bit differently, and his suspension felt like the longest week of your life.
The screen flashes then, a loud and colorful display that shows the words “you win”. Kinich leans back in his seat, a pleased half-smile spreading across his face. 
“Okay, now you can play.”
He tries to hand you the controller, but you huff, crossing your arms and turning away.
“I don’t even wanna play anymore.”
Kinich is far more mature than you at this age—even your own mother tells you as much—so he merely sighs, accepting of your tantrum.
“Okay, what do you wanna do then?”
You ponder that for a moment. There’s a lot of things you do often, but many of them are things that Kinich is much better at than you. Playing video games, climbing trees, riding bikes—he’s far more talented at them all. It’s one of the reasons you even became friends in the first place—you’d practically begged him to teach you to beat the final boss of Super Mario Galaxy, and the rest was history.
“I don’t know,” you mumble noncommittally, blowing your straw wrapper at him. It lands right on target, bouncing lightly off his forehead as he rolls his eyes.
“Come on, whatever you wanna do, we’ll do it,” he says, poking at your cheek. “I’ll even play house.”
And you know Kinich hates playing house—he has boundless amounts of energy most days, and house isn’t “challenging” enough of a game for him to expend it. But he does it occasionally, just for you.
You brighten at the prospect. 
“Really?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, already descending the treehouse ladder, waving you along. “Let’s go inside first, though. I’m hungry.”
Scrambling to your feet, you jump down to meet Kinich, already standing in the grass.
“Last one inside is a rotten egg!”
II.
The rainstorm ends just as classes dismiss—when you walk out the school entrance, a slight drizzle is still letting up, fresh puddles lapping at your toes. Kinich’s gaze finds you instantly as he slinks out of the school gates, bag tossed loosely over his shoulder.
“My socks are wet now,” you whine, patting down the edges of your skirt to look down at your shoes. You’d only just bought them recently, and your mom likely wouldn’t be pleased with the prospect of you ruining them so soon.
Kinich chuckles at first, a snarky sound as thick as the gathering clouds, only to sigh when your pout persists.
“Alright, alright,” he relents, squatting to the ground and gesturing for you to get on his back. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”
He’s a bit frail, still in his growing phase—his bones and muscles shift rhythmically under his skin as he walks—but he’s so distinctly warm. The heat makes you curl closer, nose brushing against his neck.
He walks you home most days like this, spending the day at your house until the sky grows dark with dusk. His home life is something he rarely discusses, but you know enough, and you’re happy to welcome him to yours.
“You’re slow,” you mumble into his shoulder. The steady thump of his steps is comforting, nearly putting you to sleep.
“You’re heavy,” Kinich replies teasingly, adjusting your weight atop his back. His words are biting, but he’s being careful with his steps nonetheless, taking each one lightly so as not to jostle you.
“You’re rude,” you scoff back. His nose scrunches in annoyance when you loop your arms tighter around his neck, pretending to choke him as punishment. “You’re not supposed to say that to a girl.”
He blows his bangs out of his eyes, peering up at the newly visible sun that starts to dip low in the sky. You watch a cat scurry through the bushes to your right, golden eyes peering through the foliage before disappearing into the darkness. 
“Yeah, that’s why I’m saying it to you.”
Kinich is always a bit wittier than you, a bit quicker to the punch, but you like that about him. You like a lot of things about him, and you’re sure he knows it, too. A weighty silence settles between the two of you, unnatural—it’s usually you who fills the silence, and Kinich who patiently listens.
But something bigger sits at the back of your mind, and the words are having trouble surmounting the obstacle of your tongue. 
You’re still floundering for something to say by the time your house appears in the distance. The sight lights a fire under you—you don’t want to discuss something like this with your mother in earshot. You force the words out, voice weak and small.
“I heard Mualani confessed to you yesterday.”
The rumor had flown through the school like wildfire. Mualani is popular with the boys after all, so there’s bound to be quite a bit of heartbreak if she ends up in a relationship. Someone had seen them together at that sakura tree behind the school, and it instantly became a hot topic—it’s all you’ve heard about all day.
And though you know it’s not really any of your business, you can’t help but be curious, and the thought fills you with dread.
You manage a glance at his expression, searching for any sort of unrest, but he doesn’t show any at all. In fact, he seems wholly uninterested in the topic.
He shrugs. “Yeah, so?”
You take a deep breath for courage—you’re not sure you want to hear his answer. 
“So? What did you tell her?”
And it’s nothing against Mualani, really—she’s kind and beautiful, and you wouldn’t blame Kinich for falling for her. She’s never done anything wrong to you at all. But a beat passes, and you’re already halfway through mourning the end of your long-time crush when he replies.
“I told her I was flattered, but I wasn’t interested.”
A sigh of relief escapes you then, but you reel it in quickly—he can probably feel you relax against his back at his response.
“Oh,” is all you say, as aloof as you can manage. Kinich latches onto your hesitation instantly.
“Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” comes your hasty reply. “...Is there any reason you said no, though?”
He frowns. “I don’t know. She just isn’t my type.”
“...Then what is your type?”
You’re going too far, you know—even just speaking the words has your chest twisting painfully, and you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. If Kinich isn’t an idiot, he can surely tell why you’re practically breathing down his neck over the whole thing.
But maybe Kinich is a little bit of an idiot, at least about these things, because he merely shrugs.
“Not sure. Never really thought about it.”
A frost unfurls in your chest, bitter—of course Kinich wouldn’t know, he’s never thought about anyone that way. Including you.
“Right.” You attempt a laugh, teeth gritting. “It’s all stupid anyway.”
You drop your head into his shoulder, trying to hide the pained expression on your face, and only then does Kinich’s stare flicker to you, soft.
“Right,” he says, a quiet rumble from his chest. “It’s really, really stupid.”
III.
Walks turn to drives when Kinich turns sixteen and buys his own car.
He’d saved up for months, working part-time jobs on weekends and after school, until the day finally came when he pulled up into your driveway, keys in hand. Your mom had been overwhelmingly proud—bought a cake and everything—and you’d merely been grateful that you no longer had to beg her to drive you places. 
It’s nothing crazy, just a simple sedan, but it represents a freedom that the two of you have never experienced together before.
That’s how you end up parked underneath the flickering streetlight just outside your house, excitedly recounting a story to your best friend. He’d driven you home from your club after school, an errand that always ended in several other stops—today, it had been fast food and boba.
His eyes seem to glow in the fading daylight, a pretty jade and amber that you’ve always thought was beautiful. It feels a bit more intense with his stare trained on you—Kinich isn’t the talkative type, sure, but he always ensures that you know he’s listening.
“So then she was asking me about you.”
“Mhm.”
“And get this,” a nervous chuckle escapes you then, “she thought we were dating.”
Everything falls still.
It’s times like this that you really start to hate just how unreadable your best friend can be. Despite how much you tease him for it, you actually enjoy how difficult it can be to force an expression out of him—it’s a little challenge every day. But now, when you’re on the precipice of pouring your heart out, his impassive expression stings.
Nothing on his face changes, save for a slight tilt of his head—he’s considering your words. The silence feels endless; a lump starts to form in your throat, humiliation burning at your cheeks. 
“I know, it’s so ridiculous,” you assert hurriedly, trying to avoid the rush of shame. “I mean, we would never—”
“Tell her we are, then.”
You’re sure that in that moment, your heart stops. 
Truthfully, you hadn’t planned to get this far—you were planning on brushing over that part of the story and moving on, but something deep in your heart had forced it out of you. Now, you aren’t sure what you really want to happen.
It’s always been your underlying fear, that once Kinich finds out, everything will change. Or even if he does return your feelings, it’ll all go up in flames eventually and you’ll never be the same. It’s terrifying enough to have kept your mouth shut all these years.
A tense laugh erupts from your throat, cutting through the silence. “I—I mean, it’s not that simple—”
He arches a brow. “Do you not want to?”
That’s another difference between you and Kinich—he’s far more straightforward about getting things that he wants. It’s one of the reasons that people misinterpret him as cold, but he sees it as being logical.
You gnaw at your lip, fingers tracing over the car door. Do you?
If the countless daydreams and romantic notebook doodles are anything to go by, you do. You really do. You’re just not sure if you’re brave enough to take that step.
When you look at him again, he’s observing you carefully, a delicate fondness lying in his stare. You shrink under the weight of it.
“No, I do,” you admit quietly. 
The moment falls still, and your eyes are drawn to the only movement within your line of vision—the quick bob of Kinich’s throat. Then, his hand advances toward your face at a measured pace, giving you endless opportunities to retreat.
Of course, you don’t.
“Can I…?” he asks, barely a brush of a whisper. The tension runs thick in the air as his tongue peeks out, swiping over his bottom lip at a tantalizing pace. It’s nearly enough to drive you crazy, but you know he’s just as anxious.
“Yes,” you breathe, wincing at the sound of your own voice—it sounds almost too eager.
But Kinich presses his lips to yours all the same, soft and wanting, and your heart flutters in your chest. It’s a chaste kiss, nothing like the fireworks-exploding-making-out-with-tongue types you’ve seen on TV, but it’s just right—it feels like him, and that’s all that matters. He pulls away slightly, lips still millimeters away from yours.
“I like you. If I’m not wrong, you like me too. I think it’s that simple.”
You almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Though you’d never admit it, you’ve practiced this scenario thousands of times in front of your bedroom mirror—what you would say to him, what he might say to you. Leave it to Kinich to not follow the script.
But he’s always done things his own way, so really, you should’ve expected this.
Gently, he reaches for your hand, fingers slotting through yours with ease. You sigh.
“I guess it is.”
IV.
“...that far, huh?”
Kinich stares at you upside down, head dangling off the edge of your bed as you sit at your desk, laptop keys clicking rapidly. He knows you’re serious about your future goals; you both are. He just never imagined it would bring the two of you so far apart.
You pause with one hand resting on the mouse, still staring at the screen. The map looks so daunting, too daunting, and you can’t imagine being that far away from him. 
An awkward, weighted silence hangs in the air, and by the time a few seconds pass, you’ve already foreseen eighty different bad endings for this situation. Clearing your throat once, you force yourself to speak.
“Kinich, I—”
“I get it.”
He doesn’t mean to interrupt you so suddenly, but he does. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. Because while he does understand—he really does—he also can’t help the stinging sensation of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. It feels pathetic. It feels selfish. Here you are, chasing your dreams and supporting his, and he’s caught on the fact that there will be a little space between the two of you. And it’s not like it’s anyone’s fault, but maybe you’ll get tired of waiting and—
“You’ll come back to me, right?”
There’s an unmistakable thickness to your voice, evidence of the steadily growing lump in your weary throat. It grows larger with every passing second, an insurmountable mass dwarfed only by the impending distance between you and him.
That question catches Kinich off-guard, and he nearly wants to laugh then; not because he doubts you at all, but because he doesn’t, and he finds it ridiculous that you would ever think otherwise. Here you are, worrying about him.
Kinich doesn’t have any doubts or fears. He never does when he’s with you.
Maybe that’s why.
With a light laugh, he lets his eyes flutter closed, finally allowing an uneven breath to fill his lungs. The natural light outside is slowly dimming, the fluorescent lamps dotting your street flicking on one by one. He knows he should go home soon. His car is sitting outside, the same one the two of you have had endless adventures, fights, and make-ups in. It’s the same one he will use when he moves an unfathomable distance away from you. The same one he will use on the day you will cry, clinging to him like your life depends on it, before watching him disappear into nothing but a mere dot in the distance.
His fist clenches at his side. 
But you’re still here, the closest feeling he has to home, and you’re still in love with him, and he is still in love with you.
Maybe that’s why this is enough, for now. 
Turning onto his stomach, Kinich sees you right-side up this time, and it’s like nothing has changed.
“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” 
V.
A knock echoes on your apartment door in the middle of the night.
You raise a brow at the sound, a bit unnerved—a lone college girl answering the door in the dark isn’t the safest thing, you think as you peek one eye through the peephole. But there’s a familiar figure standing outside, and it has your hand turning the knob immediately and flinging the door open.
He’s here.
“Kinich,” you breathe, in disbelief. Last you’d heard, he was somewhere halfway across the country, and certainly nowhere near your front door. But he’s here, in a black hoodie and grey sweatpants, looking like he’s just walked out of your dreams.
“Hey,” he says simply, as if his appearance hadn’t been totally shocking. He takes advantage of your shell-shocked state to invite himself inside, curiously looking through your apartment. “Nice place.”
You step aside in a daze. “Kinich—you—what are you doing here?”
He’s holding three flimsy bags in his fist, grocery store logos and restaurant labels stamped over the plastic, keys hanging off his pinky finger. He’d come prepared, clearly, but for what you’re not sure. 
He towers over you a bit more than he used to, hair a bit longer, and everything about him feels so grown up. It reminds you of all the moments the two of you have missed over the years, how much change has occurred beneath your nose, maybe without you realizing. 
He spreads the bags over your kitchen table—the mouth-watering smell of Chinese takeout filters through the air, and your stomach grumbles in reply. But it’s your tear ducts that react initially, a sting at the corners of your eyes as you squeeze them shut.
Kinich doesn’t notice at first, absorbed in inspecting the photos displayed on your wall—photos of you, photos of him, photos of the two of you together. It makes his chest warm that you still think about those times. He does too—after all, it’s rare that you leave his mind.
But he turns back to you, tears running rivers down your cheeks, and his breath hitches.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, carefully cupping your face. A lilt of panic laces his voice. “Does something hurt? Are you sick?”
“You’re here,” you sob, curling into his shoulder. None of it feels real. He’s warm and firm beneath your fingers, and you clutch at him tighter, half-expecting everything to disappear. It’s so much different than FaceTime or calling or anything else you do when he’s away. Because right now, he’s completely within your reach, and everything falls into place.
“Of course I am,” he murmurs. You cry into his hoodie, soaking the fabric with your tears, but he holds you close all the same. “Because you’re here.”
You spend a few minutes that way—you crying until your tears dry over your skin, and him comfortingly rubbing at your back. Air slowly returns to your lungs, and you sniffle, glassy eyes meeting his. 
“But why? I mean, it’s the middle of the semester, isn’t it?”
A rare half-smirk graces his lips.
“We made a promise. I came back to you first. So I do believe that means that I win,” he says. If you weren’t so emotional, you might have rolled your eyes—of course, all he ever focuses on is winning.
He drags you over to the couch, laying down and pulling you on top of him, safe. You draw closer to him, tangling your limbs together until you’re not sure where he ends and you begin.
“You’re annoying,” you whisper, muffled into his chest.
Kinich shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
“You’re still a sore loser. Thought you’d grow out of that by now.”
You grumble a few choice words at him, and he smiles—a sight that only you and the stars can claim to have ever seen.
And he’s right; you are a sore loser, and he’s been right just about every time he told you so. But you find it doesn’t matter, not really.
You could never win against Kinich anyway.
(Maybe you never wanted to.)
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rafesaddiction · 1 year ago
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Hole Practice (or: Golf Lessons) – Rafe Cameron x Reader
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Summary: You want to learn how to golf better. Rafe teaches you a different kind of lesson. Rafe's pov
Warnings: mdni! – heavy smut, sorta toxic relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, spanking, rough sex, fingering, anal (first time), oral (rafe receiving), p in v, cream pie, degrading (reader is called whore by rafe), daddy kink, mean!rafe, bratty!reader, dom!rafe
Word count: 4.3k
“Hey, ain't that your girl, Rafe?”
“What?” Rafe put down the bottle of water he was drinking from and looked at Topper, then his gaze wandered to where Topper was pointing at.
“Over there. The one that is holding up everyone at hole 9.”
“Fucking hell,” Rafe grumbled under his breath when he spotted you. Several hundred yards away, there you stood with a golf club in hand, bending down to place the ball on the ground.
“She got a terrible swing but a real nice ass, real nice.” Kelce snickered and Rafe's head spun round, glaring at him.
Kelce defensively lifted his hands and slowly walked backwards. “Hey dude, chill. I'm just saying those shorts suit her nicely, just paying compliments. Respectfully.”
Rafe tossed the water bottle away, clenching his fists, stomping forward, every muscle in his body tensed up. He was frowning as he felt hot rage coursing through his veins. Rafe was about to beat the living shit out of one of his best friends when a sound made him stop and turn your way again. The wind had carried the sound of your laughter over to him. And Rafe watched you giggle and joke around with some guy, your caddie from the looks of it.
Rafe's hands balled into fists as he watched the two of you talk. That guy had put down the golf bag he was carrying for you and stepped closer. Stepped very close. Too close. He stood behind you, directly behind you, with your ass only covered by those ridiculously tiny shorts pressing against his crotch as his arms wrapped around you, his hands on yours, holding the golf club.
Rafe let out an angry scream that wasn't even a real curse and ran over to the golf cart, got in and started driving over the hilly course towards you.
“Yeah, man, take the fucking cart, so we have to walk!” Topper yelled behind Rafe, but Rafe didn't even bother to turn around. “Fucking unbelievable,” were the last words he heard from Topper, and Kelce's snickering in response. Rafe's hands gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles showing white on his right hand, his other hand coverd by his golf glove.
He drove at full speed, which wasn't that fast with this damn golf cart, but at least faster than running. Racing over the greens, he didn't pay attention whether he was interrupting other people's games. His gaze was fixed on you and that fucking caddie that was practically dry humping you on the golf course.
The cart came to a halt close to you, Rafe jumped off, took a club from the bag at the back and stormed towards you and the caddie, raising the club, fuming with rage.
You and the caddie turned, looking at Rafe stunned and shocked. While you opened your mouth to say something to Rafe, the caddie muttered a curse, his eyes widened as he saw Rafe with the golf club swinging at him. The guy quickly pushed you out of the way, so you fell on the ground, landing on the grass, while he ran, ran as fast as he could with a yelling Rafe chasing him. And Rafe would've gotten him, would have beaten him to death, if it wasn't for your whining noises that made him stop and turn, lower his golf club and walk back to you.
Rafe was towering you, casting his long shadow over you, as you were sitting on the ground, rubbing your ass on which you obviously had fallen, looking up at your tall boyfriend with large eyes.
“I'm hurt,” you mouthed and sniffled.
Rafe grunted, reached down and picked you up. With so much vigor that you practically crashed against his chest. Bracing yourself, your hands touched Rafe's heaving chest, felt those tense muscles underneath the fabric of his expensive polo shirt. You looked up at him with big eyes. He clenched his jaws and his large hands gripped your hips as he held you close. He was still fuming with rage.
“What the hell were you doing?”
You lowered your head, then looked up, with just your eyes.
“I was just practicing holes.”
Rafe's eyebrows raised and he almost choked.
“You what?”
Your eyes went to his chest and your finger was idly drawing circles on Rafe's shirt. You shrugged and innocently explained, “I’m taking some practice lessons. I wanted to get better at golf, so that you would take me with you when you and the boys play.”
You stopped your drawings on Rafe's chest and looked up at him with pouty lips.
“Are you mad at me?”
Instead of answering, Rafe growled and frowned.
You smirked at him, you cocky little brat.
“What are you wearing anyway? Every bastard on this course is staring at your ass.”
“Don't you like my golf outfit, Rafey?” You knew he hated it when you called him that and you did it anyway. His jaws clenched.
You wore a collared blue shirt but instead of a matching skirt or proper golf shorts, you wore the tiniest shorts possible, tightly snugging your curves, barely covering your panties.
“This is no proper outfit for golfing. Those shorts scream ‘fuck me'.”
Rafe's right hand slapped hard on your exposed ass cheek, surely leaving his hand print.
You flinched and winced, then pouted, and struggled to free yourself from Rafe’s grip, but he was stronger and pulled you closer and slapped your ass again. His palm tingled, and from the look on your face, your cheek must be burning.
His fingers grabbed your chin to lift your face as he leaned down.
“I’m gonna teach you holes now,” he whispered, darkly, close to your lips.
Your cheeks flushed. He grinned devilishly. With all your bratty behavior and cockiness, Rafe was still able to make you blush. His mouth claimed yours in a hungry kiss, tongue pushing in, he took what was his, as he held your body close.
When he let go, your cheeks were still flushed, your lips swollen and you were slightly out of breath.
“Since you have chased my caddie away, you will have to carry my golf bag,” you announced and turned to look for your ball.
Rafe grumbled but shouldered the damn golf bag and followed you.
“Where's that damn thing anyway?” He asked when he had caught up with you.
“There,” you pointed at the gorse.
Rafe exhaled. “We're not getting it out of there. Just take a new one.”
“No, that would be cheating, I'm gonna get it.”
“Y/n, fucking don't!”
But you ignored his words and stomped onwards, right into the gorse – and with every step you took, your ass was bouncing invitingly.
“Fuck's sake,” Rafe grumbled and followed you.
He found you bent over, legs straight, head down, ass up, hands touching the high grass, looking for your ball.
Rafe's own balls tightened at the sight. That perky ass, those tiny shorts hardly covering anything, that red mark on your bare skin – he had been correct, his hand print was showing.
His growl made you turn your head at him, but not lift your upper body.
“I think I've found it, but it's stuck.”
Rafe grumbled, walked closer. Walking with his dick getting harder was damn uncomfortable.
“Fuck's sake,” he repeated.
“What?” You asked innocently, wriggling your fine ass.
“Enough,” Rafe barked and you flinched at his harsh tone.
Before you could get up, he grabbed you, threw you over his shoulder. You squealed and his hand smacked your ass several times, making you mewl. Rafe carried you out of the gorse, over the greens to the golf cart.
“Ouch,” you mouthed and pulled a face as you were seated on your ass, sore from his spanking.
He got in the cart, sat behind the steering wheel and shot you a sideways glance. His eyes narrowed.
“Stop complaining, that was nothing yet.”
“Where are we going?” You sniffled.
“To the club,” he stated tersely. He knew he wouldn't make it back home to Tanny Hill, with his dick already achingly hard. A room at the club would do, and he knew there would always be one available – the perks of being a premium member.
“But what about my lessons?” You looked at Rafe, sulking.
“Oh, your lessons ain't over yet.”
He could see you nibbling at your bottom lip, something you did when you were nervous or excited or both.
While he was driving across the course, he tried to look where he was going, but you kept on wriggling in your seat, which was fucking irritating.
“Stop that!” He faced you briefly and lifted his hand, a warning gesture.
“Sorry, daddy,” you said sweetly, leaned forward, and your mouth covered Rafe's finger. Sucking on it, you looked at him with large eyes, your lips closed tightly around the digit, your tongue swirling around it.
“Jesusfuckingchrist!” Rafe almost ran over some gaffer – not that he would've cared.
Rafe tried to get back on track while his cock was pulsing. You took his hand, guided it between your legs, rubbing over your thighs as you spread them. His hand touched the fabric of those damn shorts, and Rafe could feel that you were already soaking wet, those layers of clothing couldn't even hide that.
You began moaning as you were rubbing his hand against your core.
He pulled it away, raised it, finger pointing, and glared at you angrily.
“Don't!”
You pouted, crossed your arms in front of your chest and looked away. But Rafe grabbed your jaw forcefully, turning your face to look at him, pressing harder than necessary, which made you wince and gaze at him.
“You don't touch yourself unless I allow you. You know the rules.”
He kept his eyes on you while still driving.
“You hear me?” His voice loud and intimidating.
You cast your eyes down and mumbled, “Yes, daddy.”
His cock twitched in his pants, which were getting too damn tight by now.
When he let go, you added, hardly audible, “But I didn't touch myself, it was your hand…”
You probably thought that he didn't hear that as he didn't react to it right away, but he did hear it, and it drove him fucking insane. And you would experience soon enough how mad he was because of you.
Rafe parked the golf cart close to entrance of the main building, got out, grabbed your arm, so hard he would leave bruises, and dragged you along with him. You could hardly keep up, he was walking so quickly, and with his tall legs, he was able to make longer strides.
At the reception no one questioned why Rafe was holding you in such a tight grip while you were obviously struggling to escape. He asked for the key card to a room and he got it and on top of that, the receptionist wished him a pleasant day. Rafe growled in response.
He shoved you towards the elevator and got inside with you. It cost him a lot not to ravish you the moment the doors closed. The grip around your arm was iron. When the doors opened, he pushed you out, along the corridor to the room. After opening it with the key card, he forcefully pushed you inside. You stumbled and almost fell, but caught yourself on the edge of the king-size bed.
Right after he had let go off you, he started to undress himself, pulled his shirt over his head and kicked off his shoes.
“Take off those goddamn shorts and get on the bed. Now.” His commanding voice left you no choice but to obey. You looked at him, eyes wandering over his naked body as you undressed yourself, taking the shorts together with the panties off last. He frowned at you, but your eyes were on his rock hard cock that he was stroking, while glaring at you.
You climbed onto the bed. Impatiently, he walked over and grabbed you, moved you around as he wanted to have you, flipping you over, then pulling your body up, so you were on all fours now, while he kneeled behind your spread legs.
Rafe leaned over your body, his chest touching your back, his hand grabbed your throat, forcing your head up, a restrained sound coming from your opened mouth.
“You gonna be a good whore, right?” He cooed into your ear.
With his free hand, he guided his hard length between your legs, rubbing it along your dripping wet slit, covering it nicely in your juices. You mewled and started wriggling.
“Please,” you moaned, already so needy.
He turned your face to shut those desperate moans with his greedy kiss, while his cock was replaced by his fingers, which where rubbing along your slit, parting your folds, but never quite entering and never touching your clit. You were so incredibly wet, his fingers were practically dripping as he pulled them away and sat up behind you, letting go off your throat, leaving you with a confused look on your face.
“I still need to teach you a lesson.”
You opened your mouth, trying to say something, but Rafe continued, a sardonic grin on his face.
“The lesson is: If you wear such tiny shorts, hardly covering your ass, but showing it off, inviting everyone to fuck it, you get fucked up the ass, like the whore you are.”
“But –” you started to complain, but a slap of his hand on your ass made you cry out instead.
Despite it being such a fine piece of flesh, Rafe had never fucked your ass before, only put a finger or two inside your tight hole once or twice. You didn't have proper training yet, but you needed to learn that your teasing had consequences.
He spat on his already wet fingers and stroked between your ass cheeks. You whined, but he knew that it was a sound you made when you were impatient. You wouldn't have to wait long – though it wasn't what you actually waited for, he knew that. Rafe gripped you by the hip, as his fingers pushed against your back entrance. Your muscle was tense and instead of opening up for him, it closed. Rafe growled and he felt your body shudder. His grip got firmer, preventing you from retreating as his index finger pushed inside, stretching your tight ring.
“It hurts, daddy,” you whined and craned your neck to look back at Rafe.
He slowly moved his finger back and forth inside you. Your breathing hitched as he curled that finger in your tight hole. Your muscle was clenching so hard around his digit, it almost made it impossible to move it.
He let go off your hip to hit your ass cheek.
“Relax! Or it'll just hurt more.”
Your answer was a whining sound and you let your head hang between your shoulders.
Rafe pushed your legs further apart to get better access, pressed on your lower back and you obeyed by arching your back nicely. He grinned at the sight. You were completely exposed to him and at his mercy.
He pulled his finger out, only to push back in two fingers, thrusting deep and hard.
You let out a scream and started begging.
“Daddy, daddy, please,” you whined.
His fingers fucking your ass, he let his hard cock teasingly brush along your pussy, never applying too much pressure, just enough to tease you. When he pulled back, his cock was covered in your wetness.
“So wet for me. Such a needy whore you are.”
His fingers left your hole, the tight muscle pulsing invitingly. He rubbed some more spit on it and felt you shiver under his touch.
He took his cock in his hand, guiding it, stroking your round ass cheeks with it, before pressing the wet tip against your throbbing little hole.
“You gonna take it like the good whore you are, hm? Your my little whore, right?”
You mewled and panted.
He waited.
“Daddy, daddy,” you whined.
Then he heard you inhale and exhale deeply, pushing your ass up, that little hole twitched and opened up, inviting him in, and he pushed in.
You cried out as his cock's thick head stretched your tender muscle. He needed both his hands now to grip your hip, fingers digging into your flesh, holding you in place, as he greedily watched his thick cock slowly pushing into your fine ass.
Your screaming turned into an irregular whimpering as the thick head was practically sucked into your ass.
“So, good,” Rafe praised you, his own breathing heavy. “You're doing so good, baby, taking me so good. Such a good whore.”
His thumb caressed your hip, he felt you relax just the tiniest bit. He tensed up, tightened his grip again and thrust his hip forward, making your body almost jump forward by the force, if he hadn't held you that firmly.
He growled as your walls clenched around his cock, but he pushed deeper. Pulling back, he gasped as your sensitive muscle was clamping so hard around his thick cock.
“So good, baby,” he said under heavy breathing.
He pushed in, watching with greedy fascination how his too big cock vanished inch by inch into your perfect ass, stretching your too tight hole mercilessly.
“Daddy! I can't!” You cried out, sobbing now.
“You can and you will.”
He began moving in a steady rhythm, fucking your tight ass good and hard. He didn't push too hard though, knowing well what you could take. You were sobbing and crying and whining, but he didn't stop, he knew your body better than you did, and he knew that you could do this. Your little protests, your screams and moans and whimpers made him only go harder.
He couldn't get it all in though, you were too tight and not trained, and he was too big. Part of him got angry about that, but you felt so damn good, he could use you so damn well that it seemed enough.
Then he saw your hand move between your legs, you were desperately trying to touch yourself. But Rafe didn't let you.
He angrily growled, slapped your ass hard, making you flinch. Then he grabbed your hand by the wrist, twisting your arm behind your back and holding it there.
You cried out in pain.
“I told you not to do that!” He growled between clenched teeth. You were driving him mad, so fucking mad.
Your body shook and trembled under his hard thrusts as he took what was his, took you without mercy. Pounding you harder, his growing anger made him lose all restraint.
You were so tight, the friction was so intense, the sounds you made were so hot, Rafe felt his climax approaching and he didn't hold back. He felt his every muscle tense up, then let go, gasping for air, as he reached his orgasm, shooting his cum into you. His whole body electrified and in that post orgasmic bliss, he pushed again into your well-used hole, once, twice, driving his load deeper into you, before pulling out. When he let go off you, you just face down collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard, a fucking mess. He grinned at the sight of you.
“My whore,” he whispered into your ear, leaning down, kissing your damp hair, before he got up. His own breathing slowing down eventually.
Watching you lie there, and wriggle and pant, he knew you hadn't reached your climax yet.
“Don't you dare move”, his voice a dark command.
He waited for a moment. And this time it seemed you were actually listening, probably fearing the consequences. Had you learned your lesson after all? He doubted that, you were such a brat and would always be. Since you didn't move, just lay there panting, Rafe went into the adjoining bathroom to clean himself.
When he came back, you were lying in the same position on the bed, on your stomach, arms away from your body, legs apart, your body raising and falling from your exhausted breathing, cum dripping out of your hole between your reddened cheeks. Rafe grinned at the sight of the mess he had turned you into.
He sat down on the bed, still naked, back resting against the headboard, his legs on the bed, he was sitting next to you, not touching you, but you could definitely feel the bed tilt from his weight, feel his proximity, as he felt the heat radiating from your body.
You lifted your head, turned your face to gaze at him with teary eyes.
“You're such a mess,” he grinned at you, his hand caressing your face.
“Did you cum?” He asked, but already knew the answer.
You shook your head.
“You wanna cum?”
You nodded eagerly.
“Then you know what to do,” he simply said.
You got up on your knees next to him, sat down on your heels, flinching as they poked into your sore ass cheeks.
“Please daddy can I cum?” You looked at him with pleading eyes.
“And how do you wanna cum?” It wasn't a real question, more of a test.
Still, you seemed to contemplate the answer, biting your bottom lip. Your gaze turned to his cock, though not hard, still impressive. Then your eyes moved to his hands. Those hands that knew how to hold you, to touch you. Then your look was on his face. Yours was a beautiful mess. Your lips swollen, your cheeks flushed, your eyes teary and bloodshot, tears and sweat had ruined your makeup and smeared mascara all over your face. God, you were so beautiful.
“With your cock inside me.”
The way you said those words, with such sincerity and almost solemn honesty, it made his cock twitch in response.
But words weren't enough.
“Then work for it.”
In an inviting, almost generous gesture, he pointed at his crotch.
You very willingly accepted the invitation, moved closer, bent over, and Rafe hissed as your greedy little mouth took in his thick cock, sucking hard at it, tongue swirling along the tip. One hand clasping the thick shaft, you steadied yourself with the other hand on his thigh. You gazed sideways up at him, when you began bobbing your head.
Rafe's breathing quickened, as he felt his cock growing in your mouth. His hands clutched the expensive bedsheets, stopping himself from forcing your head down further. You were already gagging on his length, not nearly half of it in your mouth.
Your efforts did some good, but he wasn't ready yet.
He grabbed you by the hair to pull you up, made you whimper, spit dripping from your swollen lips, as you were gazing at him.
“Ride it.”
His command made you freeze and visibly shudder, but you hurried to follow his order. As he let go off your hair, you straddled him, mewling when his thick length pressed against your sensitive core, too long neglected, it seemed.
He gripped your jaws hard, made you focus on him. His piercing eyes glaring at you.
“Don't you dare cum before I’m inside of you. Understood?”
You tried to nod, which was hard with his tight grip at your jaws, but your pleading eyes told him, you had understood him.
“Good.” He leaned forward to kiss you hard, before letting go and leaning back in the pillows.
Your hands ran over his muscular torso. You bit your lips, looking at his hard abs, as you began rocking your hips against him, your tits bouncing nicely. He grabbed them, kneaded them with both his hands, felt how you flinched and tensed up, as you felt his greedy hunger. His cock pulsing under you.
You closed your eyes, as if you would focus on the slick sounds your pussy made when slapping against his hard dick.
“Turn around.” Rafe's voice made your eyes flutter open. “Let me see that ass that you want the whole golf club to fuck. Let me see that ass that only belongs to me.”
Rafe added an encouraging slap on your ass to stress his command. He even helped you to turn, sit down, astride with your back to him, while you did nothing more than make those small needy sounds that drove him insane with lust.
His hand pushed on your upper back, making you bent down a bit, holding onto his legs.
He had the perfect view of your ass and pussy. His cum dripping from your ass mixing with your own wetness dripping from your pussy.
Two fingers dipped into your cunt, making you squirm and mewl and beg.
“Daddy…”
You clenched around his digits and he slapped your ass.
Pulling out his fingers, he lifted you up, pushed you into position, guiding his now rock hard cock to your pussy and pushed in. Rafe grabbed your hair to get you into an upright position again. His hands on your hips, guiding your movements as his hips rocked hard against yours, pushing his whole length into you as you sank down onto him.
“Rafe, Daddy, fuck,” you stammered, your whole body shuddered and you were completely undone, cumming all over his cock just from his first thrust into you.
And he fucked you through your high, not stopping when you were all spent. Using you over and over again.
You were such a good whore for him. And all your holes were his.
a/n: writing this was a lot of fun. i don't know shit about golf. thanks for reading. i hope you enjoyed it. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, and likes too! i've only been doing this for 2 weeks now and i'm kinda overwhelmed that my first x reader smut fic got over 1k notes! thank you all so much! i got ideas for many more fics. let me know what you'd like to read! p.s. happy kinktober!
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sixosix · 11 months ago
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aether (one of the) main character(s) in hit game genshin impact hits on you.
thank u sm for beta reading @mitsies i love u and your silly comments and insightful suggestions on googledocs, wc 700, NO ONE IS ACTUALLY DEAD
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“Holy—Archons!”
Anyone would be surprised if a body materialized from thin air right in front of you, lifeless like a doll. You stare at the body, thoughts racing as fast as your heartbeat, and all the while, the man with sun threads as hair lay eerily still on the ground, eyes fluttered shut.
The man is terrifyingly beautiful, like a fallen star. A limp and unmoving fallen star, that is. Your jaw extends to the ground, terrified and—mystified? Immediately, your instincts scream at you to perform emergency measures, but—
A pixie comes barreling in from somewhere, tears running down her cheeks as she zeroes in on the presumably dead body.
“Was he your friend?” you ask quietly, mourning on her behalf. Were they siblings? The way she’s slapping his face around seems so.
“He’s not dead!” the little pixie exclaims, sniffling and shaking the apparently not-dead body.
You stare at her, perplexed. “Then why are you crying?”
“Because Paimon had to go through that trial challenge alone!”
“The what?”
Paimon huffs, slamming her tiny fists on the man’s bare waist. It seems to not even have left a mark on his skin. “You wake him up. Paimon’s upset at him.”
It’s hard to say no when tears are rolling down her face. Obediently, you poke around the man’s shut eyes, and it snaps open.
You flinch back. He blinks blearily.
“Are you okay?” You study his face, looking for any signs of a newly born zombie, but his face looks flushed and as healthy as any living human being. His eyes are bright and gold as they stare back at you.
“I’m in heaven,” he says. “Celestia has done it. I’m seeing angels, and I’m in heaven.”
Angels? Celestia?
Paimon tackles his face, shaking his shoulders and crying. “You’re not dead, dummy! How dare you leave Paimon in Dragonspine! All alone, Aether!”
“Oh,” Aether says, sounding almost disappointed. “Then…?”
“You’re not dead,” you agree with Paimon, because evidence lies before you despite the initial fright. However, his comment about angels has you a little flustered. “Um, what happened?”
“Ah,” Aether laughs sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I failed the trial, and it respawned me back here. Which is weird—I haven’t been in Bubu Pharmacy for ages!”
“I’m sorry?”
Aether jumps to his feet, startling you enough to fall on your ass. He grins down at you and offers a hand. “At least I got to meet you,” he says, pulling you up from the grass. You stumble from his strength; he catches you easily, and you bump against his chest. “Or—not meet you yet. What’s your name?”
You can’t believe the previously perished fallen star is now hitting on you. “I’m… Y/N.”
“Y/N,” he repeats, smiling broadly. “I’ll remember that.”
You hope that your face doesn’t betray the warmth you feel fluttering under your skin.
Aether sighs, casting a glance at the ground he was previously lying on. “Sorry you had to see that. That was probably very disturbing and decidedly not flattering for me.”
You can’t help but laugh. Aether beams. “Does that happen often?”
“When I get a little rusty, yeah.” He tilts his head, looking at you up and down, then around your surroundings. “Do you work here? I haven’t seen you around before.”
“Just recently.” You gesture vaguely to the side, feeling a little shy. “If you don’t see me hanging around, it’s probably because I’m always loitering the docks to watch out for exhausted tourists.”
Aether’s smile turns sly. “Nurse me back to health, would you?”
But then Paimon starts tugging on his ear and away from you, a relief for your racing heart. “Enough flirting! You can come back here after you unlock that precious chest!”
“Ow, ow, okay,” Aether laughs, hesitating, before letting you slip from his hold. He takes a few steps back, his smile as blinding as stars seconds away from exploding. “The docks, right? I’ll see you soon!”
By 'soon,' you hope he doesn't mean he'll attempt to die again immediately, but you figure you'll find out eventually. You glance around to see if anyone is watching, then decide to take a stroll around the docks for reasons no one should know.
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i cant believe mitzi's first aether fic is THIS i feel so ashamed lmfao, but TY FOR READING!!!!! <3
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nathaslosthershit · 1 month ago
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Emotional Times (OP81)
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Summary: Pregnancy was a time full of hardships. Hormones on high, stress of the incoming baby, and all the sudden changes were what this father-to-be was expecting, ready to face. What he wasn't expecting was having to battle his pregnant wife's newfound sensitivity to everything that could have her emotions changing in an instant Part of my summer event!
It has been a rough time in the Piastri household. Oscar loves his wife, he really does, and god, would he move heaven and earth for her. In her current state though, she doesn’t know whether she wants heaven or earth and if he brings her the wrong one she will burst into tears, but if he brings her the right one, she will also burst into tears.
There wasn’t any winning. During moments like that, he just had to remember that greener grass on the other side. The other side where he finally has his own little family. 
The couple had also both made peace with the fact he would be traveling a lot during the season and she would have to spend some of her pregnancy by herself. It was easy while she could travel in the beginning but a few complications cut her ability to do so off much sooner than the two would have liked. And she did not like this. 
“Honey, please, get back in bed.” Oscar begged at 5 am. He was ready to head off to his next race, when he unintentionally woke his very pregnant wife up after giving her a kiss on the forehead.
This made her frustrated, she had finally gone to sleep after spending so much of the night tossing and trying to turn and the minute she drifts off he has the audacity to-
Then she realized he kissed her on the forehead because he was leaving her. 
Now, she was holding onto him by the front door, in absolute tears at the thought she would have to do another race weekend alone.
“Please, my love. It absolutely breaks my heart to leave you but I have no choice. Don’t make this harder for me…” Oscar tried to reason with her, but he was on the brink of tears himself seeing how much she wanted him to stay, realizing how much he wanted to stay. But he couldn’t.
“Oscar, I can’t do it, please it's so hard being here all alone. I know it's cliché but I can’t even tie my shoes. How am I supposed to do anything? How am I supposed to take care of a baby when I can’t take care of myself?”
He knew she wasn’t trying to guilt him into staying or make him feel bad if he did leave. These were real concerns she had voiced before. But he felt so helpless in this moment, almost as helpless as she felt constantly. 
The realization hit him, he couldn’t leave her like this. It was unfair to both of them. He had to do something.
“I will figure something out, don’t worry, Honey. Go back to sleep and when you wake up it will be much better, I promise.” He really shouldn’t promise that when he didn’t have a plan, but he couldn’t come up with one while she was sobbing into his neck and holding on for dear life.
With a few hiccups and a small nod, he wiped her tears and gave her a kiss as he left the apartment. 45 minutes later than he would have liked, hopefully the group he was sharing the jet with didn’t leave him behind. 
She already felt better when she woke up, having gotten hours of sleep, finally. It felt so good to wake up well rested and without that many aches. Nothing could bring her mood down.
Except when she couldn’t get in touch with her husband.
She knew he was traveling, that the minute his plane landed he was off to start preparing for the upcoming race. But no calls and no messages soured her mood real fast. 
She tried to shake it off, she went about her day trying not to dwell on it, trying not to send him threatening messages for not answering her the second she texted him. 
A call woke her up the next morning, well it was noon but she still wasn't pleased. Not till she saw who was calling.
“Oh sweetheart! How are you?” Nicole Piastri asked.
If there was one person she loved almost as much as her husband, it was his mother.
“I’m okay, haven’t heard from Oscar much, that asshole.” she grumbled.
“Oh I remember the days, that's why I have my twitter afterall.” Nicole said, making her laugh. It was sometimes a wonder how her husband was Nicole’s son. 
“Yeah well i-”
“Oh crap, honey, I have to go! But I’ll see you soon, okay? Hang tight!” Nicole said before hanging up.
She didn’t have time to dwell on the abrupt end to the call as a knock came from the front door. Connecting the two, she wobbled as fast as she could to the door, where her mother-in-law stood. 
And then she burst into tears.
“Oh, he told me you were going to do that but I didn’t know it would be that immediate,” Nicole said as she went to hug her. 
Through the tears and snot, she asked “Oscar? What do you mean?”
“He said he texted you, gosh, he is the worst at communication for someone who spends so much time on his phone,” she frowned at her daughter-in-law.
Quickly opening her texts, she saw he had messaged her a few hours ago:
Oscar: I told you I had a plan, just a few more hours, my love. I can’t wait to see you in a few days :) 
Thus the mother and daughter-in-law started their girls weekend. My god, it was exactly what she needed. As much as she loved her husband, this was 1000 times better than what she would have done if he was here. And despite how much she missed him, the weekend seemed to fly by. 
Oscar: How is she? I am only half an hour away.
Nicole: Currently napping, but she has been good! Relaxed and happy. Hasn’t even cried in the past few days
Oscar: Wow, I am almost offended she didn’t miss me more?
Nicole: She needed girl time, you couldn’t give that to her sweetheart. She also needed someone who actually knew how to correctly do laundry.
Oscar: Alright, mum, nice talking to you. I'll be back soon, please don’t turn my wife against me.
Nicole: 😉
Just as he did when he was leaving, Oscar unintentionally woke his pregnant wife up when kissing her on the forehead. Unlike when he was leaving, she didn’t get upset. She was too happy to see him that the thought hadn’t even occurred to her.
Holding him in a death grip, she recounted all she did while he was gone. She couldn’t really go out much at this point, so hearing his mom still found a way to make her weekend enjoyable was a relief. 
“I haven’t even cried over something stupid in a while!” She said as she finished her account of the past few days.
“I heard, I am glad you are feeling so much better, my love. I hated being gone but hearing you had a wonderful time makes me so happy.” He said as he began to tear up, thinking about how awful it was to leave. 
“Oscar, come on, just cause i'm not as emotional doesn’t mean you have to make up for it” She teased.
After pestering him about how his time away was, he remembered he had picked up something for her, and while he bought it thinking he would use it to stop her tears, why not just give it to her while she is this happy.
“I picked up your favorite,” he said as he reluctantly handed her the food he got, shuddering at the unusual combination she loved oh so much.
The sound of her son gagging as he watched his wife eat had Nicole coming into the room to investigate. The picture of her pregnant daughter-in-law, happy as a clam while she ate her food, and her son holding his nose and trying to stop himself from throwing up was a sight she committed to memory and knew she was going to bring up for years to come. 
“What have you got there?” Nicole asked, knowingly making Oscar gag again as he was reminded of the food combination.
“Cottage cheese and ketchup,” she answered. Instead of disgust, the couple was confused by the light bulb moment Nicole seemed to have.
“My goodness! That is what I craved with Oscar. Gross to think about now but I loved it then.”
“What! You never told me this?” Oscar asked, astounded he would be the reason his mom had to eat a combination that disgusted him so.
“I was saving it for the next podcast I did. Think I’ll have to talk about this moment too.” His mom teased. 
Rolling his eyes, he turned to his wife and immediately clocked in on the frown beginning to form.
Both mother and son had the same exact thought: Uh oh.
“You- you craved the same thing?” She stuttered out.
“Um, yeah? You okay, Honey?” Nicole asked, now on edge at the incoming storm.
Seconds of silence went by but were soon disrupted by the sounds of his wife’s cries as she took in the information.
“Baby, what's wrong? Why are you upset at that?” Oscar questioned as he went to rub her back in comfort.
“Its just- that is so sweet, and the thought that- that I could be having the same cravings, is just- I just-” His wife didn’t get to finish her sentence as more wails came out, followed by hiccuping.  
Nicole and Oscar looked at each other in alarm as they realized that this was most likely the consequence of a weekend with no breakdowns. They had a long night ahead of them. 
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