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#everyone even a tiny bit involved
ghostatas · 7 months
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Cellbit adding Fit and ramon only to IMMEDIATELY kill them off
And the Dr. Cockruko or whatever his name was. So based. So funny.
I love fit so much so seeing him here (but not really) was SOOO FUNNY but so nice too. Baghera saying 'does he work for the federation?'. Carol straight up calling him a useless janitor who's always snooping around and being sus. The little qsmp references sprinkled in has my HEART. It's lovely to see, because realistically without quackity and the qsmp, we would not have had opq. Ordem Paranormal would still be strong as ever, but people outside of Brazil would have likely never seen it, and it is such a shame because it is an absolute work of ART and cellbit DESERVES all that recognition. It never ceases to amaze me the possibilities the qsmp, and the ccs and admins of the server, has created. They have spread so much joy, connected people from ALL OVER THE WORLD, and that is not something many people can say. It's beautiful. It's heartwarming. It's hard to put into words how amazing it all is. Just some thoughts, I'm emotional today ;)
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the-busy-ghost · 1 year
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Alright uninformed rant time. It kind of bugs me that, when studying the Middle Ages, specifically in western Europe, it doesn’t seem to be a pre-requisite that you have to take some kind of “Basics of Mediaeval Catholic Doctrine in Everyday Practise” class. 
Obviously you can’t cover everything- we don’t necessarily need to understand the ins and outs of obscure theological arguments (just as your average mediaeval churchgoer probably didn’t need to), or the inner workings of the Great Schism(s), nor how apparently simple theological disputes could be influenced by political and social factors, and of course the Official Line From The Vatican has changed over the centuries (which is why I’ve seen even modern Catholics getting mixed up about something that happened eight centuries ago). And naturally there are going to be misconceptions no matter how much you try to clarify things for people, and regional/class/temporal variations on how people’s actual everyday beliefs were influenced by the church’s rules. 
But it would help if historians studying the Middle Ages, especially western Christendom, were all given a broadly similar training in a) what the official doctrine was at various points on certain important issues and b) how this might translate to what the average layman believed. Because it feels like you’re supposed to pick that up as you go along and even where there are books on the subject they’re not always entirely reliable either (for example, people citing books about how things worked specifically in England to apply to the whole of Europe) and you can’t ask a book a question if you’re confused about any particular point. 
I mean I don’t expect to be spoonfed but somehow I don’t think that I’m supposed to accumulate a half-assed religious education from, say, a 15th century nobleman who was probably more interested in translating chivalric romances and rebelling against the Crown than religion; an angry 16th century Protestant; a 12th century nun from some forgotten valley in the Alps; some footnotes spread out over half a dozen modern political histories of Scotland; and an episode of ‘In Our Time’ from 2009. 
But equally if you’re not a specialist in church history or theology, I’m not sure that it’s necessary to probe the murky depths of every minor theological point ever, and once you’ve started where does it end? 
Anyway this entirely uninformed rant brought to you by my encounter with a sixteenth century bishop who was supposedly writing a completely orthodox book to re-evangelise his flock and tempt them away from Protestantism, but who described the baptismal rite in a way that sounds decidedly sketchy, if not heretical. And rather than being able to engage with the text properly and get what I needed from it, I was instead left sitting there like:
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And frankly I didn’t have the time to go down the rabbit hole that would inevitably open up if I tried to find out
#This is a problem which is magnified in Britain I think as we also have to deal with the Hangover from Protestantism#As seen even in some folk who were raised Catholic but still imbibed certain ideas about the Middle Ages from culturally Protestant schools#And it isn't helped when we're hit with all these popular history tv documentaries#If I have to see one more person whose speciality is writing sensational paperbacks about Henry VIII's court#Being asked to explain for the British public What The Pope Thought I shall scream#Which is not even getting into some of England's super special common law get out clauses#Though having recently listened to some stuff in French I'm beginning to think misconceptions are not limited to Great Britain#Anyway I did take some realy interesting classes at uni on things like marriage and religious orders and so on#But it was definitely patchy and I definitely do not have a good handle on how it all basically hung together#As evidenced by the fact that I've probably made a tonne of mistakes in this post#Books aren't entirely helpful though because you can't ask them questions and sometimes the author is just plain wrong#I mean I will take book recommendations but they are not entirely helpful; and we also haven't all read the same stuff#So one person's idea of what the basics of being baptised involved are going to radically differ from another's based on what they read#Which if you are primarily a political historian interested in the Hundred Years' War doesn't seem important eonugh to quibble over#But it would help if everyone was given some kind of similar introductory training and then they could probe further if needed/wanted#So that one historian's elementary mistake about baptism doesn't affect generations of specialists in the Hundred Years' War#Because they have enough basic knowledge to know that they can just discount that tiny irrelevant bit#This is why seminars are important folks you get to ASK QUESTIONS AND FIGURE OUT BITS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND#And as I say there is a bit of a habit in this country of producing books about say religion in mediaeval England#And then you're expected to work out for yourself which bits you can extrapolate and assume were true outwith England#Or France or Scotland or wherever it may be though the English and the French are particularly bad for assuming#that whatever was true for them was obviously true for everyone else so why should they specify that they're only talking about France#Alright rant over#Beginning to come to the conclusion that nobody knows how Christianity works but would like certain historians to stop pretending they do#Edit: I sort of made up the examples of the historical people who gave me my religious education above#But I'm now enamoured with the idea of who actually did give me my weird ideas about mediaeval Catholicism#Who were my historical godparents so to speak#Do I have an idea of mediaeval religion that was jointly shaped by some professor from the 1970s and a 6th century saint?#Does Cardinal Campeggio know he's responsible for some much later human being's catechism?#Fake examples again but I'm going to be thinking about that today
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ruthless-to-a-fault · 5 months
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Suzanne Collins has me deranged.
We know from the Ballad of Song Birds and Snakes that many of the features of the modern Hunger Games are Snow's invention, including those that motivate the districts, like prizes. It's fair to assume he likely came up with the idea for tesserae, it's an easy way to keep the districts well fed while encouraging/forcing participation and general involvement in the games. It's a great reminder, even the food you eat is linked to the games themselves. Tesserae is a type of tile work commonly associated with Romans which Collins draws a lot of inspiration from in her depiction of the Capital. It has also in the past been used as a token. In this case, you take the token of food in exchange for extra names in the bowl. Now that's fucking excellent on it's own, real neat bit of linguistic worldbuilding.
BUT what really gets me, what truly fucks me up is that Snow didn't name it that because he's like a language nerd. Tigris had to use tile buttons, tesserae buttons on his shirt during songbirds because they couldn't afford anything else. Snow inherently associates that material with poverty, specifically with the lack of food he had during that time. As a result tesserae represents poverty starvation and desperation to everyone in the districts. Snow is so god dam self obsessed he imbedded ,intentionally or not , personal fucking references to himself within the districts.
AND THAT is why Collins is so crazy to me that detail is tiny, you truly would not notice and in the grand scheme it's not that important but that's woman is on her shit and she's fucking thinking her thoughts and its genius. HER MIND UGH. truly has me messed.
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tinylittlebab · 1 year
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ill be skinny and dying and ill look beautiful and people will like me it has to happen or id rather die
whats the point of being lonely and in pain all the time and then having to get a job and hate doing that if i have no friends and hate myself. the one thing that keeps me wanting to live wont be good enough once u have to work and in that case id rather just die
:(
#i just. i dont want most of my immediate family aware of this. ive spiraled a little bit i guess. i wanna be hospitalized haha. like a lot#thats the goal now i guess. 85 pounds and then if its not good enough i just keep going lower untill its worse#but i guess if im hospitalized my immediate family will HAVE to get involved. i just dont wamt my younger siblings aware of it.#i wanna make myself so sick. i want the people who always looked at me when i was little and hated how shy i was and said i was too small#tohear about giw im in the hospital and think oh thats just terrible#its like. i dont even know anyone who will look at me thinner and think its a good thing. everyone i know already knows about my ed#and they all already think u should eat more. i do wish i knew someone who would think me being skinnier was good#i want someone who will feel me get bonier and think whoah thats neat. think its cool they can wrap their hands around my wrists#well. my wrists are very tiny anyway because my hands are really small. my family just has really tiny hands#people dont notice mine much because they are proportional to my arms (they notice my siblings though bc they are bigger than me)#but whenever someone actually holds my hands or hands me something a looks they realize oh my god why are your hands so small#like. the bones themselves are small. been told i have baby hands. mine are way smaller than my siblings though bc im underweight#hmm. i always felt horrible for this but i used to be so internally proud of the fact i was slinnier than my 8yo sister#like. she is a normal sized kid. average weight and height. and it feels validating to be smaller than that. like i actually AM tiny#my only friend is fat which is obviously fine and nothing wrong with it but it means i have no comparison. she is much bigger than most#people so i cant think oh im way smaller than her im doing great bc like. that could mean im just average sized. but that i can look at my#sister who is normal sized for someone 8 years younger than me and is also i young kid and see im thinner so i must be doing well#well. one day ill move past that and look pike i could juat die right there bc im so small#so tiny that i look so frail and easy to break
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mackandcheezy · 5 months
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Beneath the White Sheets (Young! President! Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
​​A/N: A simple domestic fluff turned slightly sensual hot, slightly crazy, boyfriend who can’t keep his hands to himself. For my lovely anon who just wanted something less depressing than the typical hunger games fic
People are utterly stupid. At least that’s what Coriolanus had been telling himself for the past two hours. Being made president of Panem was everything he had ever wanted and more but he couldn’t stand how much conversation it involved. He could never stand to fraternize with those less intelligent than himself and that seemed fo be all this was comprised of. Though it all was worth it to come home to you. 
You had met in school, what felt like such a long ago. Started as enemies as all good lovers do, competing to mentor the best tribute for the 10th hunger games. Yours had died before even making it to the arena, a fact Coryo never quite let you forget, or the fact that his won. But you were always quick to remind him that he cheated so it didn’t count. The same small frown would appear on his face at the mention of Lucy Gray. 
You knew they had a history, but you also knew that nobody could ever love you the way he did. On a fundamental level she would always resent who he was, how he was raised, his “kind.” You on the other hand knew what it meant to work your way up from the bottom, to have drive and passion. You were one in the same in that way, but you kept him in check, able to dull some of the red that always tinted the edges of his plans. 
The moment he bursted in the door you knew it had been a bad day even before he started ranting. 
“I can’t BELIEVE these people, it’s like they think the world runs on expensive fabrics and tiny foods.” Coryo threw his suit jacket into the corner of the room, the white coat crumpling like a piece of paper. Running a hand through his hair he finally took the time to look at you properly. 
His eyes raked your form, taking in the way your freshly washed locks framed your face. Your eyes were focused on him, that same worried look ever present on your face, it brought a warm flush to his cheeks. Even a year into marriage it never ceased to surprise him that everyday someone could care. That even after seeing him, the real him with skeletons in the closet, you still loved him— still forgave him. That simple fact was enough to make the stress of the day melt from his body. Shoulders dropping just the tiniest bit, jaw coming unclenched for the first time since he’d left at six am that morning. 
He watched as you shuffled out of bed, in that same night dress that was just sheer enough to hint at what was underneath but not enough to satisfy his desires. Your pebbled nipples poking out just enough to make him want to do nothing more than to take one into his mouth and taste the sweet comfort of home. The thought of the taste of your skin already bringing a burning desire to his mind. 
But you could simply fuck anytime, right now was for something more pure. 
You floated across the room and wrapped your hands around his waist, burying your face in his chest, “I missed you.” 
“I missed you too. I should fire everyone and replace them with you instead, you’re more intelligent that all of them combined,” he placed a greedy kiss to your lips before pulling away, “and much sexier too” his hot breath on your lips making you flush. 
You allowed him to change his clothes wordlessly. Basking in the presence of your lover, Coryo doing the same. Your relationship was built on comfortable silence, if something needed to be said it would, but for now all either one of you needed was to feel the other. 
Like a well rehearsed play you both flowed back to the bed, allowing the cool sheets and soft mattress to absorb your bodies until you met in the middle. Coryo wrapped every open limb around you until you were one. With your ear on his chest you listened to his heart beat. The rhythmic thumping grounding you, this was reality, white sheets and curly blonde hair. 
“I’m scared” that statement sent chills through your body. Never had Coryo admitted to something so-- human in all the time you had known him. 
“Do we have something to be scared for?” 
“The thought of this being temporary fleets my mind often these days, that one day I will have nothing to provide to you anymore” The statement broke your heart. Deep down you knew he cared, even if he tried to convince himself he didn’t. Yet her he was the very thought of letting you down was terrifying. 
“I don’t need anything but you,” You felt the held breath ruffle the strands of hair at the top of your head. “You are enough Coriolanus Snow, I promised myself to you because even a poor beggar I would want nothing more in this life than you” 
“I have never wanted anything more than you” The confession surprised you in a sense. You knew you were an important part of the puzzle, but Panem always seemed to come first. 
You allowed yourself to reflect on that as you watched the sun drop below the skyline of the Capitol, a warm orangey-pink engulfing the room. Allowing yourself to relax in the strong embrace of your husband, and give in to the sleep pulling at your eyes.
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webslingingslasher · 1 year
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i'm a sucker for angst to fluff. what if parker's friends say some mean things ab your body but parker doesn't defend you. that night, you won't cuddle him, you won't even sleep in the same bed because you don't wanna disgust him... and peter has to make it up to you.
parker is a dunce!!! peter supremacy!
Peter had two sets of friend groups. 
The first one was the original one. Kids he grew up with, suffered through high school and flew into the freedom of college with him. The group you knew the most of, they were the closest to him and nearly the entire group became your friends too. Weekends spent smashing drinks and staying up too late before hitting up a diner for greasy burgers at four in the morning. 
Then the second group, which you did not know well, don’t know how Peter knows them and can’t fathom why Peter would entertain them. 
It’s split like this. 
With friend group A, he’s Peter.
With friend group B, he’s Parker. 
You don’t like Parker; not one bit. 
Parker can be stark, blunt, bold and cocky. 
It was the friend group, they made him believe he was one of them so sometimes he acted a little too much like them. It wasn’t ever too bad, just the stuff you know he normally wouldn’t feed into, he gorged. 
His friend, leader of the group, Nick, said it in passing. It’s not the first time you met, granted you try to spend as little time as possible with them but you also won’t give them the cold shoulder. The mutual understanding with friend group B is that you both are there for Peter’s sake, it just makes things easier. 
Nick threw his beer back, foam swirled to the top. His long arm extended to the seat next to him, his watch clicked against the chair top. 
“I’m surprised you didn’t bag someone with a better body, Parker.” A sharp wink is thrown at your boyfriend, and in response he snorted, “yeah, right.” 
It was sarcastic, you’ll give him that. But he didn’t give more, you waited for the ‘real funny, but don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.’ However, he just rubbed your shoulder and sent a small smile, almost like he was saying, ‘you know how it is.’ 
You didn’t miss the tiny curl of Nick’s lip when you shook Peter’s hand off your arm. 
If he couldn’t stand up to his friends over a shit comment then why would you let him put his hands on your body, knowing everyone thinks he could do better?
—------------------------------
Peter frowned when you pulled away from his grasp, he was going for a hug but you floated away. You were quiet on the ride back, not starting conversation but not letting it fail either. 
If Peter could describe your emotion right now it would be ‘fine.’ 
“C’mon, gimme a hug.” 
You cross your arms, “you sure you want your hands on me?” 
Peter reaches out and tries to pull one hand back with the other but his right hand breaks free and grabs you, “I can’t control them! They need you too much.” 
Sometimes it’s really, really hard to be upset with him. 
“I’m gonna take a shower,” you pull away, forcing yourself to stand up for yourself, if the situation was reversed you’d shut it down at the dinner table. Not smile sympathetically and give him an ‘oh well!’ 
“Want company?” 
Disappointment covers your features, “not really.” 
He wouldn’t stand up to defend the body he loves but he wants to be first in line to use it. 
“Oh. Okay, if you want I’ll make us some ice cream cones and set up a movie?” 
You shrug, “sure.” 
Peter knows what’s wrong but he views it as a boundary issue between his friends and him, not you. He knows what he needs to do but doesn’t want to involve you further. 
That message doubles down when you told him you would sleep on his couch tonight, he woke you up after the movie to take you to bed when you shrugged him off, “I’ll sleep here tonight,” that never happens, ever. 
“No, c’mon, I’ll carry you.” 
His hands slipped under your thigh when you rolled over, “if it wasn’t so late I’d be at home. Consider yourself lucky that I’m still here.” 
So, Peter presses a kiss to your temple with an “alright, honey. Goodnight, we can talk in the morning, okay?” 
When he walks away you mumble under your breath, “hope you dream about girls with better bodies.” He hears you, it takes everything in him to not bring you with him. 
—----------------------------------
Noise woke you up. 
The room was bright, sleeping in the living room left you exposed to nearly every window in the apartment. Peter’s room was dark and cool, if you were in there it could be well into mid morning before you rose. 
There was a blanket on you that wasn’t there last night, it’s one from Peter’s room, he keeps an extra by his bed for you. The sun peering in warmed up the room and you started to feel just a little too warm. 
You almost forgot why you were awake until you heard a cabinet shut loudly and a soft curse murmured from the kitchen. Peter was up early making breakfast, you know he feels largely guilty. It almost makes everything okay. 
It took heat swarming your face for you to pull the blanket away, the cool breeze from his ceiling fan felt really good. You yawn, then cough from a dry throat. 
“Baby?” 
You sniff, nothing more than a harsh breath, “morning.” Your voice croaks from the couch, you hear shuffling, steps get louder until you looked up at his face peering over you. 
“I slept like shit, how about you?” 
You stretch your arms over your head, “no complaints.” 
Peter recognizes you’re still mad. 
“Waffles or pancakes?” 
You grin, “french toast.” 
Peter leans over the back of the couch, his lips puckered. “Deal,” you push his chin away. “No kisses, you’re on time out.” 
He wanted to wait until after breakfast but he really can’t last that long without a kiss. 
“Okay, come here.” 
You got up and followed him, he grabbed his phone sitting on the counter and gestured to taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Peter unlocked his phone and tapped around, he handed it towards you, you looked at him confused before he wiggled it. “Take it, read it.” 
Taking his phone you looked down, it was blurry and you had to blink a few times. Peter busy with moving around the kitchen. 
A text thread between him and Nick. 
“hey man, I know you didn’t mean anything by it but you hurt some feelings by that comment tonight. From here on out no jokes on or about her, cool?” 
“Ah shit man, my bad. I didn’t mean to get you yelled at, no jokes about the lady in front of her from now on.” 
“I mean don’t joke about her, ever. It’s not cool to me, and it disrespects my girlfriend.” 
“Say less, I’ll tell the guys, no more jokes about parker’s girl.” 
“Appreciate it, man.” 
A small pout takes over your face, he texted it last night after you got home. If you can track it back it would’ve been around the time you were in the shower, unprompted he stuck up for you. 
Peter stood up for you, he had your back. 
You assumed he didn’t, but he just didn’t make a scene. He kept cool and calm until he was back at home, in regards to not embarrassing you or his friends and maybe damaging either relationship. 
You click your tongue, your boyfriend meets your eyes, he’s awaiting a response. 
“Well, now it’s hard to be mad.” 
“I will always defend your honor, sweetheart. Just because I don’t do it at that moment doesn’t mean I wont, okay? I love you and you are absolutely the hottest woman I could ever bag, alright?” 
You respond with countless kisses and cuddles, Peter needs to nearly peel you off his body so he can use the stove safely, but not one complaint utters from his lips. 
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imbored1201 · 2 months
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Leah’s Problem
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Word Count: 1.6k
Pairing: Leah Williamson x Reader
A/N: Happy Birthday @alotofpockets
Leah’s jealousy towards everyone was understandable; it was obvious to everyone that you tried your best to avoid her. It also didn’t help the fact that everyone on the team seemed to like you, which made Leah more desperate to get to know you. 
You were Katie’s best friend; no one knew how the two of you met in the first place, but they did know wherever Katie went, you followed. 
For this reason, it was pretty hard for Katie to have to drag you to meet everyone one by one, considering you got nervous in large groups. But for some reason, you never got to Leah; she had waited patiently, watched as you talked and laughed with everyone else, but refused to acknowledge her. 
———
Today was another day of you running away from Leah. Leah always made sure to wave at you when you stepped into the locker room; sometimes she did get a tiny one back. Today was one of those days where she got no wave back. 
“Tough one again,” Beth joked. She loved watching those interactions; it was entertaining to watch you treat Leah like she was a ghost. Of course, she also knew the true reason behind it, but she didn’t get herself involved like Katie had. 
“Maybe try pairing up with her,” Viv suggested, feeling bad for her friend. “I always try; she always runs to Katie." "Well, Katie has been choosing Caitlin lately, and everyone could tell Kyra is too much for her.” 
As everyone split into pairs, Leah watched as you stood there awkwardly, Katie had been pairing up with Caitlin lately, and you were forced to go with Kyra, who was way too energetic for you. Before Kyra could steal you away, Leah took this chance to finally talk to you.
“Hey-“ Before Leah could finish her sentence, you quickly rushed over to Katie, pretending you didn’t hear her. “Okay then,” she muttered, sadly making her way to Kim. 
“What’s up with her?” Kim asked, not sure what she just watched. “She doesn’t like me,” Leah mumbled sadly as she watched you rush over to Katie. “What did you do to the poor girl?” 
Leah looked offended at that question. “Nothing. She’s always been like that around me,” Leah sighed, watching as you joked around with Katie and Caitlin. 
She didn’t know what to do anymore. “Just talk to her." “I’ve tried; she runs off before I could even finish my sentence.” Kim sighed. As much as she didn't want to get involved, she knew she had to now. 
————
When Kim approached you about team bonding night, you felt like you were about to faint right on the spot. Usually team bonding nights meant games, and most of the time the teams were chosen randomly. The chances of you and Leah getting partnered up were pretty slim, but with your luck, you weren’t going to risk that. 
Kim could tell you were lying when you told her you already had plans. She saw how tense you got when she asked if you were going to be able to attend, and Katie always said you had no friends outside of the team. 
———
Leah was sad but relieved to hear you weren’t coming to bonding night. As much as she wanted to talk to you, she would not be able to handle the awkwardness. 
“Where’s Y/N?” Katie asked; she had just arrived and was already eating all the desert Viv had made. 
“She said she couldn’t make it,” Kim answered, letting Katie read the text. Katie scoffed, storming back to the door. 
“Where are you going?” Kyra asked as everyone watched Katie. “I’m going to get her. I'm sick of her running away from her problems.” 
“What problems?” Leah watched Katie think for a bit. “Ay Kim, did you order food?” Kim nodded, and Katie looked at Leah.
“Let’s go, Williamson." Leah thought about it for a bit. You practically hated her, it would be quite awkward, “I don’t think I should." "Go,” Kim said sternly, knowing what Katie was trying to do. 
———
“Why did I have to come? Everyone knows the girl doesn’t like me." Katie grinned, “That girl likes you, that’s the problem for her, though.” 
Leah went silent after that, occasionally yelling at Katie for her terrible driving. Her heart started pounding when Katie parked and got out of the car to get you. 
“Let me deal with this girl; I’ll shout if I need backup." Katie hurried inside the building, cursing as she realized she didn’t have the spare key you gave her. 
That's what you woke up to. Someone banging on your door. “L/N, I swear, if you don’t get up, I’m going to break this door open.” You let out a frustrated sigh hearing Katie’s voice. You tiredly made your way to the door, hoping you would be able to talk Katie into letting you stay home. 
“What do you want, McCabe?” Katie grinned seeing your tired state. “Tonight is team bonding you idiot; why aren’t you dressed?” 
“I told Kim I can’t make it." Katie scoffed, shoving past you and heading straight to your bedroom. “Bed undone, kitchen a mess, even this closet is a mess and not color coded anymore,” you watched as she went through your clothes. 
“Change, and hurry; Leah is waiting. We still need to pick up the food.” Your eyes widened hearing the name. “Leah? Williamson?” “Yes, hurry and get ready.” You threw yourself on the bed. First,  she almost broke your door, then she insulted how your place looked, and now she brought the person you couldn’t even look at without panicking. 
"Hey,” you whispered to them when you got in. Leah nodded at you, silently hoping Katie would speed past all the stop signs, but of course, this ride was the only time Katie decided to drive under the speed limit instead of over. 
————
“You're a terrible driver,” you told her, rushing to the front door and just letting yourself in with the food in your hands. The girls cheered when they saw you, Caitlin and Steph, tackling you into a hug, almost making you drop the food. 
“We already made our teams; Katie your with Vic; Leah and Y/N are together.” You gave Beth a pleading look, “Nope, no running from her anymore,” she whispered into your ear, pushing you towards your partner. Leah could see the fear in your eyes. 
“Hold on, Williamson,” Katie announced, dragging you to Kim’s bedroom. "Katie, switch with me,” you practically begged her. “No, remember what we talked about?” “I choose not to remember it” 
“You really like her, right?” You slowly nodded. Yes,  you liked Leah, but the fear of being humiliated overtook that. “Then actually tell her, if she doesn’t like you, there’s lots of girls out there for you.” 
“Katie. I don’t want to make anything awkward.” Katie put an arm around your shoulder and led you back to the team. “Nothing will be awkward; at least you had the guts to admit your feelings,” she shrugged. You took a seat beside Leah, trying to calm yourself. 
“Um, I can ask someone to switch if you want.” Leah silently hoped you rejected that offer; this was probably the only time she would be able to actually talk to you without you running off to Kate. 
“It’s okay, we can be partners.” You slowly started to gain confidence talking to her more. It was something about her presence that kept you calm now. You were starting to wonder why you were terrified of Leah in the first place. 
————
Everyone watched as you and Leah actually conversed for once. It got to the point where the game didn’t even matter anymore; you guys were purposely losing to keep talking without any interruption in Kim’s kitchen. 
By the end of the night, you were sad, knowing you couldn't hang out with Leah anymore. You would have to go back and deal with Katie’s endless teasing the whole car ride. 
“Can I take you home?” Katie shoved you into Leah. “Finally off my plate,” she mumbled, “Well, I kind of don’t have a choice; my driver doesn’t want me anymore." Leah smiled and put an arm around your shoulder. 
“Katie, I’m taking her home." Katie just hummed and let out a tiny bye. You rolled your eyes at your friend and followed Leah out the house. 
————
The whole car ride was filled with laughter and Leah asking a bunch of questions to get to know you better. You and Leah even went to get some late night food and ate it in her car. 
"Thanks, Leah.” Leah felt proud of herself, she had never seen you smile that much around Katie, so that was a big accomplishment to her. 
“Let me walk you,” she quickly got out of the car, following you inside the building. “I’m sorry,” you spoke as you got to your front door. 
“About what?” “Ignoring you, I was just nervous.” Leah panicked a bit. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” You quickly denied that. 
“I like you, Leah; a little bit too much though." Leah let out an ‘oh’. “It’s okay if you don’t-“ 
“I do,” she cut you off. “I do. I like you a lot.” You stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say now. 
“Date?” She spoke again, "Date." Leah mentally cheered, “Okay, tomorrow, movie night? I know a friend that could get us reservations at a fancy restaurant.” 
“I think a movie night is perfect.'' Leah nodded. “Okay, I’ll pick you up. Wear something comfy.” 
She gave you a tight hug, blushing when you kissed her cheek. 
As she made her way back outside, she couldn’t believe it. Just one night changed everything between the two of you, and now the last thing to do was get Katie to tell her your favorite movies and snacks. 
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tan1shere · 6 days
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Baby I could slow down
Ellie Williams x female reader !
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A/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for far too long and I had no idea what to do until I was talking with a friend and she helped a bit, so enjoy !!
Summary: Ellie had been your tattoo artist for a bit, you hadn't gotten many tattoos in the past and if you did it wasn't anything huge. But you decided you wanted to get a tramp stamp, til things get heated.
Warnings: smut, mdni. Mirror sex, glove fixation ??? Bit filthy 😇 soft dom Ellie DUH this is me, I'm a soft dom Ellie fanatic. And sub, but kinda confident reader-? Ok that's all 😁
Masterlist
It was becoming an addiction. One tattoo was leading to 3, 6. So on and so on. You had a few tattoos already, but you decided today was the day you got a tramp stamp, you had been wanting one for some time. Only now were you going through with it. You have been going to the same artist since your first tattoo ever. She was your favorite not only was she good at her job but she was hot. And I mean hot. Everyone who knew of her thought the same thing. But she never would look at them like you. You were thankfully a tad blinded by it. Ofcourse you felt slight tension whenever you'd go, but you'd never think much of it. Until today.
You were wearing a white shirt that was tight to your skin, thin. Alongside some black jeans. It was later in the evening and you were her last for the day, which was usually the case, you would always go in the afternoon. You step through the doors, everything was quiet and it was just Ellie there. "Knock knock." You say, soon after seeing her come into the room. "Hey you." She grins slightly. You set your things down going over to the long flat table. "So a tramp stamp huh?" You nod. "Been wanting one for awhile actually." She grabs her black gloves. And you don't know what comes over you but the way she snaps it onto her hands makes you weak in the knees. You swallow, beginning to lay on your stomach on the black leather. "Haven't been in for awhile." She states, grabbing her supplies. You look infront of you, realizing the mirror was right there.
None of the tats youd get involved laying on your stomach. Ellie comes over, taking a moment looking at your curves, the way your lower back dipped as you prompted yourself on your forearms. Her gloved hands come to your sides slowly running along them, lifting your shirt in the process. Only a tiny bit before she goes to your jeans pulling them down just a smidge as you had high rise on, to get to your lower back. "This is going to look so good on you." She compliments. You felt heat rise to your cheeks. You had been just getting yourself sorted that you hadn't noticed there was quiet music going on in the background. Ellie places the stencil on your skin, making sure it was placed good. Once that was all sorted.
She begins to start the pen up, you hear the vibrations. Getting ready for the slight pinchy sting. But in all honesty, it wasn't that painful usually. Her lingering touches on your sides felt nice, in a way almost teasing. "The butterfly suits you." You bit your lip slightly. And this woman looks up for a second, into the mirror. Noticing the action. You didn't dare look back. Everything was quiet in the room, the air filled with something flirty. It was starting to drive you insane.
Eventually there was some small talk, she'd ask about life recently and you did the same. Catching up from the last time you had come in. Her hands softly touch your skin, bringing the needle into your skin. It stung a tiny bit but by now you were use to it. "Comfortable?" She asks. You nod slightly. "Yeah it's easing up the more I come." You look up and in the mirror to see her smiling, yet still focusing on the tattoo. "Glad you come back to me so often." You bit your lip a little. "Yeah course, you're the best at what you do." Her smile turns into a slight grin. "Oh yeah?" That made your heart skip a beat, the way her voice was right now. You wanted to squirm but you knew you had to stay still. Which made Ellie want to tease you even more, knowing you could do nothing. The thought rolled around her brain driving her a little crazy. Her fingers lightly brush your side as she gets a different angle.
Things were quiet, you could feel the slight tension tho. The hand that was on your side now Moves to rest on the curve of your ass. Your eyes go wide at how casually she does the action. It was hot regardless. "Don't mind my hand love, just trying to find the right position." You swallow. "No thats- fine." She lets out a slight chuckle at how rushed that came out. "Just gotta get myself comfortable y'know?" You bit your lip, harder this time. You had to stay calm you couldn't make any movements. But it's as if she was testing you. You peer at her through the mirror infront of you, until you realized the needle had stopped for a second. She was looking right back at you. Your eyes locked for a good minute, when you let out a breath. "Nervous?" She blurts out. You're silent. You're afraid if you open your mouth you might moan. That just makes you shake your head out of that thought. You needed to be the one to focus because Jesus Christ.
"No, just-" But you had no idea how to cover that breath up. Fuck fuck fuck. Was this embarrassing or what. "Going too fast?" That confused you slightly, almost making you choke on your own spit. "With the tattoo darling." Oh. Your eyes blink a few time. "Uhm, yeah just a little.." Great save. She noticed how silent you were all of a sudden. "Baby, I could slow down if that's what you need me to do?" Your eyes meet in the mirror again. "Since this is bigger than you're use to." There was a slight smirk evident on her face. She knew exactly what she was doing. Wording things in such a way. "Uhm, it's ok just new to this, yeah- bigger than what I'm uhm. Use to." She just chuckles again, looking back down at the tattoo. But her focus was more on the way your back was arched. Her brain let it travel to all these thoughts. What it'd be like to see her fucking you from behind, especially with this tattoo. But that wasn't professional, was it Ellie? You let your eyes go away from the mirror, looking down at your hands.
Fuck it. She thought. She was almost done with it anyways. "Well. Whoever gets to be the one seeing this from behind is lucky. Very lucky." - "All done." She then says, to which you move sitting up. "Too bad no one gets to." You say. Ellie was sly, making sure you weren't involved with anyone by that statement. "Huh.. Shame." Your eyes meet yet again, but not before you turn your ass slightly to get a better look at it. You smile wide. "Oh my God I love it!" You beam. "Good good." She goes to clean up, about to take her gloves off when you stop her. "Wait- keep them on." She was a little shocked at the sudden request but did so anyway. You felt bold all of a sudden. "Maybe there's one person who could enjoy looking at it.. From behind." Her smirk grew. "Oh yeah? Who might that be?" You slowly stride closer. "Maybe the one who did it." She looks up at you from her seat, lust peeking through her green eyes.
Was she really going to go through with this. I mean this is her place, she could do what she liked. And it's not like she didn't know you at all. She was still looking at you. So were you, but your eyes traveled to her hands, her own tattoo. Good lord. She soon noticed making her smirk a bit with pride. She liked the way she affected you. She subtly moves her fingers around, she had it resting on her thigh. But since you were watching why not have a little fun. Her arm shortly flexes, making her slight veins stick out. You could feel your breathing getting heavier, you needed it. Needed her. Your eyes meet hers again, when suddenly she's reaching out. Grabbing the back of your thighs and swiftly pulling you onto her lap. Your breath got caught in your throat as you weren't expecting it. Her lips were immediately on yours. This kiss was well needed and hungry.
"Ever since you first came in here I've been wanting to do that." You bit your lip again, looking down at hers. "I think you should totally do it again." And she did instantly. Keeping her hands gently on your waist. "Get back on the table." She says slightly out of breath. "Only if you keep those gloves on." You smirk a lil, making her smirk too. "Yes ma'am." You try not to giggle like a pathetic little looser as she says that, getting back on the table. Her hand came in contact with your jeans before you do, yanking them down. You turn your head to look at her. She examines your body fully. "This will be fun." You smile more getting on the cushion table again. "Everytime I come for a tattoo I always wish we could do something.." You admit.
It boosts her ego crazily. She wastes no time taking your underwear off, gently pulling your legs so you're closer to her. "Mmmm." She let's out lowly. Your head lifts, looking at her in the mirror. "Want you to keep looking into it, want you to watch your face as I fuck you." You felt yourself clench around nothing, getting incredibly desperate for this now. You watch as she undoes her pants, getting out what you've been craving. "Matches the gloves, huh." Her voice made you wetter, and the thought made you close your eyes. She moves over your body grabbing a fistful of your hair, making you reopen your eyes. "What'd I say." Her voice was soft, laced with demand. "You bit your lip even harder. "To look in the mirror as you fuck me." She hums. "Good." You could feel the tip waiting to be slipped in. She does, shortly. Painfully slow if you might add. But once it was all in, you arch your back. Begging for more of it. "Haven't even moved yet babe." But you didn't care at all. You needed this. Now.
"Please." You breath, and it makes Ellie go crazy. She begins to move and not slowly either. In fact it was faster than you had anticipated. She was just as eager as you tho, the way your back arched, the way the tattoo looked. Your curves. She was loving this all too much. You look at her through the mirror, her eyes were looking at your body until then she met yours in the mirror. "Hear how wet you are? You had been wanting this huh?" You finally let out a moan, trying not to be too loud. "God you're so fine, glad you wanted this tat you look so hot with it. Especially in this position." It was her turn to bite her lip, watching as you moved on the strap too. It was intoxicating how this was all making you feel. "I'm so close." You blab, which made her speed up. Your eyes roll back, Ellie swears she could just cum at the sight of you in the mirror. The strap moving in a way that it gets her clit nice, making her groan and speed up again. "You look so good, shit."
Moans, grunts. Whines, were all that could be heard as you both come closer to your release. "Ellie i-" you were cut off by yet another moan. "I know, feel you clenching, mph. You're getting tighter." Your eyes never leave the mirror, and now so do hers. The latex of the gloves come in contact with your hips, sending you into overdrive as this gives her a better chance at slamming into you. You let out a cry of her name as you finally cum around her, Ellie looses it at the sight, the speed hitting her clit still making her cum along with you. All to be heard was heavy breaths. "It's free." She breathes out huskily.
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coeurify · 1 year
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perfect girl | ellie williams.
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tlou2 ellie williams x fem!reader. college modern au universe. word count 6.8k. proofread barely. part two here
ellie is the most known dealer on campus, and reader is a stuck up, bitchy, sorority girl. somehow ending up near each other at every party, despite constant fighting. this party is no different, at first
this is smut, 18+ only. included use of pet names, mean!ellie, mean!reader, name calling.. fingering r!receiving.. etc. its a bit filthy. i wrote when high
Honestly, you hated frat parties. The loud music, the humid air and noisy college students that all reaked of jungle juice and sweat. None of it appealed to you— you always left feeling dirty and with a headache. But being in the university’s biggest sorority meant it was sort of a needed appearance.
Even now, when you were stressed beyond belief over the three different exams on monday morning. You had still been dragged out by your sorority sisters with the promise of a great party.
It never was great though. Never.
Usually you found yourself shoo-ing off shirtless frat boys advances, cup in your hand that had a bit too much cheap vodka and too little juice. If you had to deal with these things, you may as well be tipsy enough for it.
Though, the alcohol never made you any less in control of yourself. Control was what you valued most, being able to easily keep yourself in check. Making sure your well taken care of clothes never crinkled, ensuring no piece of hair was out of place. This in turn usually meant you took the role of watching over your sorority sisters. Eyeing any boys who got too touchy when they were drunk, snapping at frat guys when they didn’t take a hint. cleaning their face of tears or sweat, reapplying their mascara or lip gloss when they couldn’t. Holding their drinks with your perfectly manicured hands when they needed to pee.
You didn’t judge them for how they acted, you knew they were just having fun. Sometimes you wish you could let go like that too, join in on their dances.. giggle loudly and flirt with boys with drunken courage. But you never did. You probably wouldn’t tonight, even when your friend Dina had taken the role of sober one of the group so you could try and have fun. You still just stood straight up and watched on.
You were untouchable, everyone knew it. You saw the way boys looked at you— like they were falling over themselves just for a chance you might talk to them. Girls whispered about you, whether it be good or bad.. you didn’t exactly care. You had been called a prissy bitch one too many times to truly give a shit what other twenty somethings had to say about your attitude. You enjoyed being something no one could reach. It made you feel powerful. You rarely gave anyone that wasn’t your friends the time of day at these things, and god did it drive people crazy.
You always positioned yourself somewhere like the drink table at every party, watching on as if it was a live show for you to consume. In some ways it was.. you were always a watcher, never involved. So looking on was usually your only source of fun at these things.
Tonight was no different— eyes steady on the large group of people dancing, more so falling over each other, in the center of the room. It was grossly humid, and the flashing lights hurt your eyes. Everyone was pressed too close together— far too big of a crowd for this tiny off campus fraternity.
You found a more open place between the scratchy and old couch and the pop up plastic table. It held half empty bottles and a punch bowl full of some concoction that made you shake your head at girls when they tried to take a cup.
You stand stiffly against the wall— refusing to sit, let alone lean against the couch next to you. You didn't even want to imagine how disgusting it was.. swearing it was a lighter shade of grey last time you were here. This choice of station however was opening yourself up to a night of pure torture from a particular presence that seemed to haunt every. fucking. frat party.
Ellie Williams. Right on cue she walked over, ignoring you as she plopped down onto the couch with a few of the frat boys. She opens a little bag and turns in to face them. Of course. Obviously the stoners would choose the couch as their designated spot for the night.
Even if she had not acknowledged you, you already were burning with annoyance. The orange lighting currently overhead painted you the same color your insides felt. A growing flame, dull and orange in the pit of your stomach.
Ellie was a usual attendee at these parties. But not with a group of friends or some sorority like a normal person. No, Ellie was the chosen dealer for most fraternities of the university.. meaning she almost always showed up to smoke and give out to stingy college students.
But god, you could not understand what made her the choice for these people. You found her utterly obnoxious. She was loud— had the mouth of a sailor, and was always making god awful jokes. She had no shame— outwardly talking to whoever she wanted however she wanted, flirting with girls no matter the situation. Because Ellie also referred to sit out on the side of the parties, it meant you unfortunately spent a lot of time around her. You heard every stupid joke, smelt every gross joint, watched every girl swoon over her atrocious flirting. It was miserable really.
And god did she love to annoy you. It was too easy. She had discovered that at the start of last spring semester, and since then, almost a year ago, had made it a fun game for her. It became routine — and you swore she did it on purpose. Found somewhere close to you, invaded your space, and made the party even worse. Ellie would never admit that though.
Tonight wasn’t different. You couldn’t avoid your eyes drifting to where she was collecting cash from a few frat guys, loudly laughing and making jokes about some Jurassic Park movie that a frat guy promised to put on the projector later.
“Nah, the second one is way better!” The frat boy, Josh from Sigma something-something (you didnt care to remember the names) argued.
Ellie quickly shook her head, and you noticed she was wearing that messy half up half down hairstyle you once told her looked dumb. “You fucking idiot, the first is way better! It's iconic and so are the dinosaurs in it!” she fights back, lightheartedly shoving Josh’s arm.
God, did she have to be so loud? It was already loud enough with the shitty music playing. You tuned out the rest of the conversation.. or attempted to. Ellie’s laugh made its way up and over the beat of the song playing. You looked over again, watching the way her head fell back. Even from here you could see the freckles on her face. The low colorful flashing lights of the room made them hard to see sometimes, though. Not that you cared.
Eventually, Josh and the three other boys got up and moved away from the couch— emptying the line of sight from you to Ellie. She caught your gaze before you could look away, and smiled that stupid cocky smile she always did.
“Need somethin’ princess?” Ellie questioned as she scooted to the seat closest to the edge you stood closest to. The name made you clench your fist tightly around the cup in your hands. She had adopted this nickname for you after commenting about 1200 times how you dressed and acted at these parties. ‘Stuck up princess’ she had called you after one particular comment. It stuck after that.
“Nope,” you popped the P, sipping at the vodka in your cup and refusing to meet her eyes again.
“You were staring.”
“Was not, you got my attention by being obnoxiously loud,” you bit back.
Ellie held her hands up in surrender, “Whatever you say.”
You scoffed, turning your nose up and looking at the center of the party again. Mentally you counted your friend group and where they all were in the crowd. One finger came to press a strand of hair back into your hairdo, and then press a hand to smooth your shirt. You just wanted to get through the next hour or two and get home to study.
You can hear the flick of a lighter next to you, and bite back a sigh. Ellie had been sitting here all of five minutes and had already resorted to smoking. Unsurprisingly.
When the smell soon invades the small space between you, and that flame of annoyance in your belly grows to a small blaze.
At first you ignore it, sniffing and rubbing your nose like it would make the smell disappear. You glance around the room, eyeing some particularly loud and annoying men who were whooping and hollering. Soon though, the smell became too much. You turned to face the couch.
“Ugh,” you make a noise of disgust, loud enough for Ellie to turn her head to you. You pair the sound with a (very dramatic) scrunched up nose. “You smell horrible.”
Ellie smiles in a lazy sort of way, legs spread comfortably on the couch and head leaned slightly to look at you. She makes it a point to blow the next puff from the joint straight at you— enjoying the way your hands come to swat away the smoke like it was poison. “S’ just weed princess.. can't hurt you.”
Your arms cross, and Ellie watches as they press against the pretty baby blue lace shirt you're wearing.. too clean, too soft for a party like this. “It can make me stink though, like I already pointed out. Some of us care about things like personal hygiene, Williams,” you argue, to which she whistles, adding a quiet, “damn, low blow..”
She sits up straighter, leaning forward to inspect you. Seeing the pretty skirt that falls to your mid thigh— Ellie doesn’t doubt even for a moment that the white fabric caught lingering stares of every horny drunk college boy in the room when you walked in with your group.
But here you were, choosing to insult her instead of entertaining a single one of them.
“What's the reason for stick up your ass tonight?” She asks, making your eyes roll.
“Oh screw you, I’m acting perfectly reasonably.”
Ellie actually laughed at that, loudly enough to make you turn your head in embarrassment. “The way you act with me is never reasonable actually, but tonight is extra bad. You look stiffer and didn’t even attempt to be civil.”
It annoyed you even more that she noticed the stress radiating off of you so easily. She always could— it made her even better at pulling on the threads of you that made you most annoyed. She knew how to get a rise out of you.
“It's absolutely none of your business, Ellie,” you snap. Maybe it was a little harsh for such a simple question, but the auburn haired girl beside you got that out of you easily.
“God, would it kill you to be a little less bitchy for one night?” her green eyes narrowed in at you and she took another puff of the joint. Your eyes followed as she tilted her head up to the ceiling to blow out the smoke.
“Fuck you,” you mumble.
“Fuck you too, princess.”
There's a moment of heavy silence between the two of you, lights flashing now between a deep blue and green. The toe of your shoe tapped into the wood of the floor, the repeated motion serving as a distraction from the annoyance that Ellie caused. Your mind falls back to the exams you have to study for tonight.
The distraction quickly ends when the voice you had come to recognize anywhere popped up again. “Can you chill out? I can hear your shoe tapping from here.”
You huff, biting the inside of your cheek. “Can you shut the hell up? Go back to your joint and leave me alone.”
Ellie just scoffs, mumbling something about you needing the smoke more than her.
You ignore it, but can't deny how your mind wanders to the comment. What would it be like to smoke? Would it take the edge off like everyone said? You had only tried once or twice before.. both at a small get together where you ended up having to sober up quickly to care for your drunken friends.
“Seriously,” Ellie says a bit louder. “Come sit and have a smoke.”
“Excuse me?” you look at her like she had suggested the two of you take your clothes off mid party. Or she had suddenly grown two heads. It would offend her, the clear disgust— if she didn’t know you so well.
“There's a huge group of drunk guys walking over right now-“ she pointed with one of her fingers to where they were passing some game of beer pong. “If you stay there you’ll just get more pissed off and strung up when they bump into you and shit.”
You eye the group, slightly annoyed that Ellie was again right about how you would react. You glance then at the couch, at the weird dark stain and uncomfortable looking material. “I'm not smoking. But if you want me to sit? Take off your sweatshirt.”
Now it was Ellie’s turn to ask, “Excuse me?”
You make a face at her, pointing to the gross couch. “I’m not sitting on that nasty couch. If you want me to sit? take off your sweatshirt and let me use that.”
You know it's a bratty request, and neither you or Ellie look away from each other for a moment, not knowing who was going to make the first move. You almost regret it, and then Ellie reaches to the bottom of her sweatshirt.
It sends some sort of shockwave through you when she pulls the material over her head. You convince yourself it's because you feel like you have won, gotten your way over the girl you hated. Definitely not because her undershirt rode up for a moment, or that her sleeve tattoo was now on display.
“You’re such a fucking bitch,” she says in a exasperated tone, but still lays the sweatshirt across the seat on next to her on the couch.
You smile sarcastically, “Mhm, thanks,” you move to the front of the couch, holding your skirt down as you sit on top of her sweater and press forward, sitting straight up so the back of your shirt doesn't hit the couch. You felt Ellie’s eyes on you, on the very large gap between you. “I can't infect you with something you know?” the auburn haired girl says a bit slowly.
“Haven’t I said it a million times? You smell bad.”
Ellie’s lip quirk into a smile and she doesn’t reply, placing the joint between her lips again and lighting it for another drag.
Just like she described, the group of college boys clambered over to the drink table, invading the corner you were just standing in to shout loudly and put the bottles wildly into cups. You cringe, shifting in your seat. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were glad Ellie had asked you to sit now.
The two of you didn’t talk, for a moment you watch Ellie’s freckled cheeks suck in slightly as she takes a drag, and watch her lips part to blow it out. Unable to tear your eyes away until a new voice comes from in front of you.
“Hey, Y/N right?” Ellie glances up for a split second before going back to looking uninterested in the boy trying to start conversation with you.
“Yep,” you answer plainly as you look at him. You recognized him in a blurry sort of way. His name started with an L… Lucas.. Leo.. La-
“Im Liam, from the last party,” he explains before you finish your train of thought. “Right, Liam.”
Liam bounces a bit on his heels, which embarrasses you. You fight the urge to curl your lip at the sight. “I was wondering if you wanted to go chill with a few of my friends and girls from your sorority upstairs? We’re gonna smoke and play games like seven minutes in heaven.”
Beside you it feels like someone has stiffened, but you ignore it. You let your face drop to look even more uninterested. “Seven minutes in heaven? Really? What are we? Fifteen?”
Liam flushes, clearing his throat to talk again. You just shake your head to stop him. “I don't smoke either so no thank you, Liam. Im good.”
The boy slumps a little. “Right. Maybe next time,” and then he turns on his heel and walks off.. looking like a dog with its tail between their legs.
Ellie chuckles, making that fire come back to your belly. You turn quickly— eyeing her. “What's funny, Williams?”
“He totally wanted to fuck you,” Ellie shrugs, watching until Liam disappears up the stairs.
You try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, picking at your painted nails to keep the blush from reaching your cheeks. “Fuck off.”
“Trust me, I know these guys. Every party one of them tries to get in your pants, and you turn them down every single time.”
Ellie looks smug as she says it— and you want to wipe the look off her fucking face. Acting like she knew something, like she could tell you more about what was happening than you could.
“You don’t know shit Ellie,” you argue, unable to bite back the slightly misplaced anger anymore, leaning forward. “Why do you even care? Are you obsessed with me or something? Not everyone wants to fuck everything that walks.”
The words have a bite to them, bitter on your tongue. Your chest’s rise and fall is speeding up as you finish speaking. You watch as Ellie’s eyes get darker in the light, the flashing lights stop into a solid red as some song with the color name begins.
“And why do you care who I fuck? hm? Maybe you do need to get laid by one of those guy’s falling all over you. Might make you a little less of a strung up bitch,” Ellie’s voice is harder now, aiming to displease you more so than before.
It works, the flame in you spilling over to a whole fucking house fire at the comment. Your hand instinctively grips your cup, reaches forward and dumps it all over Ellie’s chest.
Silence follows, and you immediately regret it.. knowing you took it too far. This quiet is uncomfortable enough to make you squirm, pressing further away from the wet patch growing on the cushion. Ellie looks at her shirt, very slowly raising her head to look dead at you.
“Get up.” It's not a question when she says it, harsher tone than she had ever used with you.
For once, you don’t immediately bite back. “Wha-“
“Get up. You just fucking dumped your drink on me, you can help me fix it,” Ellie demands again. She puts out the joint on the table nearby, messy enough to make you cringe.
You can't tell how red her face is because of the lights.. but you are sure she is fuming. The way she is stiff and slow with her movements to stand a clue enough.
That’s why you don't fight to scramble to your feet after her when she starts walking. Your fingers grip at the sweatshirt under you, holding it in your hand as she pushes past people to get to a room nearby. You follow quickly behind— watching curious eyes follow you chasing after the other. The red lights hide the growing blush on your cheeks, the music pounding in tandem with your heart.
When she pushes open a door, you squeeze in quickly after her.
Ellie’s tattooed arm reaches to the side of you where the doorknob is, and her fingers move to lock it. You swallow at the proximity, ducking away quickly.
She doesn’t speak as she peels the now wet shirt from her frame— throwing it on the floor near the bed. Your eyes don't look away as she does so. In fact, you can’t tear them away.
Her body is toned, more so than you would have expected. Not that you thought of her shirtless before or anything. Her fingers ghost gently over her own skin, wiping any extra wetness. Your pupils follow the way the digits move.
What doesn’t surprise you however, is the sports bra that lays beneath the shirt. It's snug against her skin, and you watch as she tugs it back into the right place. You watch her breathe, heavy and unsteady, a clear sign she is not exactly calm at the moment.
“You are such a fucking brat, you know that?” Her blazing eyes meet your own— and you almost shrink. This Ellie.. She was different. You are no longer burning with the anger her face usually ignites in you. No, this fire is all different.
“Oh cat got your tongue now, princess? for once you don't have a stuck up comment to make hm?” She steps closer to you, looking down to where her sweatshirt hangs from your fingertips.
“Put my sweatshirt back on me.”
The words make your mouth go slack, finally mustering up the courage to speak. “Fuck off, Ellie.”
“Im serious,” her hair is more messy now, strands falling in front of her face as she stares at you. “You made me take it off for you, so now you can put it back on me. Fair is fair, princess.”
“You can’t be serious,” you scoff, shaking your head at the suggestion.
“You do it or I go out there, tell the frat hosting that you’re a crazy bitch who spilt her drink on me. You and your sorority sisters would get blacklisted from every party before those pretty eyelashes could even blink.”
It's a threat. A threat to your power, the social standing within your group and the general university. A threat to your ego as a whole, the thought you would be the cause of something like that. It also was a quick reminder that no matter what you said to her at these parties, she was the one with the power. You could insult and poke at her all you wanted.. but Ellie was the one with half of the people out in that room down the hallway wrapped around her finger. Her.. business determined that.
You purse your lips, meeting the green eyes staring at you again. It's another fight for power. Seeing who will crack under the tension first. You find yourself noticing the freckles that dust her face again, and a small red mark on her cheek you had not really paid attention to before. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, and you look away in defeat.
Ellie knows she won, stepping even closer to you, enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of her. It does something to you that you wouldn’t like to admit, your knees going ever so slightly weak. She pushes a fallen strand of auburn hair back behind her ear while waiting for your next move.
It comes a second later, shuffling the sweatshirt in your hand to the right position, leaning forward to push the hoodie part over Ellie’s head, fingers shaking when they brush against her bare shoulder. You can't admit to yourself that it isn’t because of some annoyance that you were reacting like this. She helps a bit when you drag the sweatshirt down her chest by pushing her arms through the sleeves.
When it's finished, you both linger for a moment, your nails still near her waistline. It only ends when she steps back, gaze still set on you.
“You gonna say sorry?” she asks, eyebrow raising expectantly.
You shake your head. “Fuck. Off.”
Ellie tsks, watching your every movement. She didn’t ignore how your eyes had been all over her tonight, how you couldn’t look away when her shirt was off. And god, what would be a better way to win whatever this was than taking what she wanted from you.
“Cmon, you know I was right about what I said,” she steps around you and then forward, smiling as you continue to back away everytime she gets closer. when the back of your leg hits the bed, you stop. “You do need to get fucked, might make you a little less miserable to be around.”
Her voice has fallen more quiet, a little something new to the way she spoke.
“But you don’t want one of those dicks outside to do it, do you?” it's accusatory when it's said, enough to make you realize where this conversation was going.
God, you would never admit it out loud. not even to yourself. Everytime you avoided a guy’s advance to instead bicker with Ellie all night. The times you insulted her about something because it made you warm all over, like a certain hairstyle or shirt. You blamed her a lot for annoying you, for those jokes she makes— for how she bothers you. But in honesty, you just hated that you couldn’t look away. Not from her face, her hands, the way she smokes, or spreads her legs open when she sits. It’s absolutely infuriating how much you think of her. But you had always kept it deep enough to not think about it until she brought it up herself.
“No, that's why you always turn them down.. why you always look at me after you do. God, you don't even realize it do you?” A shocked sort of chuckle escaped her lips, like she couldn’t believe this realization either. Her finger moves to a strand of your hair that must have fallen while you chased after her.
“You want me. You want me to fuck you, don’t you princess? That's why you are always such a little priss, isn't it. Get you so hot and bothered you just can't help but be mean?”
When you don't answer, Ellie reaches forward quickly to grab your wrist, gaining your attention. “Answer me.”
“No- I don’t fucking want you Ellie,” you choke it out, like it burned your throat to say. It was worse than a shot of whatever they had outside this door.
“If you don’t want me, then walk away right now. But this is your only chance. No more after this. You can't get one of those asshole frat guys instead. No more entertaining the little arguments you start. No more ignoring when you stare at m-“
You can't even let her finish her words before you crash forward, meeting her lips in an immediately messy kiss. She swears against your lips before dropping your wrist, arms instead moving to your hips, pressing you flush against her body. You want to pull away, regain the control you so desperately cling to— want to run off and out of the party.
But once the kiss deepens, once her tongue swipes against your lips.. you’re a goner.
You whimper when she bites your bottom lip harshly, and she swallows the sound with another burning kiss. You pull her to fall back onto the bed with you, and she immediately manhandles you further onto the bed, taking position over you and not apologizing when your head slams roughly into the headboard.
“Asshole,” you whine, she digs her fingers into your hip to shut you up as her teeth drag down to your neck, wet kisses and small bites pressing there until she finds the spot that makes you shiver, hand slapping against her arm, pretty nails pressing into the skin.
She bites harder, pulling a louder yell from you. She then sucks over the spot, soothing it with another swipe of her tongue. The throbbing feeling will no doubt result in a mark— and Ellie seems to know exactly that.
“Everyone’s gonna know,” she mumbles against your skin as she sucks another spot, controlling your hips with one hand when they try to buck up.
“All those other girls are gonna know when you wake up with these littered all over your neck tomorrow-“ another bite. “Gonna know what happened, what the perfect little sorority girl did with me.”
The comment draws another noise from you, and the heat pools between your legs, embarrassingly turned on by the thought of that humiliation sure to follow walking out of this room later. You can feel your panties going damp when she doesn’t let up the assault on your neck and collarbone.
You can smell the weed on her when her head dips closer to you again, and for once you don’t mind it. You meet her lips, shaky hand still gripping at the inked skin of her arm.
She's so controlled in her movements, enjoying how you are already a squirmy mess, enjoying how she has control. It's nothing like the Ellie she was in public, loud and joking. No, she was completely serious and calculated with every single swipe of her finger, every movement of her lips. One hand roughly goes to your chest, pushing up your shirt above your breasts, not bothering to even do the kindness of taking it off all the way.
“Mm, no bra?” Ellie questions mockingly, pulling back from your wet lips— acting like she hadn’t noticed the lack of one the moment you turned to face her at this damn party.
You shake your head, reduced to little words.
Ellie watches you carefully, at your puffy lips, at the way your perfect hair is now falling in chunks against the pillow. God, what a sight. You, untouchable and pristine.. reduced to being fucked on a stranger’s bed in a frat house. By her.
“Want me to touch you here?” she questions, fingers ghosting over your nipples.. smiling when they pebble at the softest touch. Your back arches, searching for more skin to skin as you nod quickly.
“Nuh Uh- words, princess, need you to say it.”
You glance at her, one side of you fighting against this feeling of submission you can feel yourself falling into. In an act of defiance, your hand comes up and over her larger one, pressing it down against the skin of your breast, breathing out a moan instead of answering her question.
This however was a bad idea, and she immediately pulls completely back, quick to grab your face harshly between her palm. “You fucking brat,” Ellie seeths, your lips pressing open just slightly at how hard she is pressing her hand. The roughness only makes you wetter, and you attempt to squeeze your thighs together for some sort of friction.. but Ellie is faster, slotting a knee in between your legs as she looks down at you, free arm holding herself up.
“No, you don’t get anything from me, no relief for that throbbing feeling you have im sure,” she says it so cockily that you think you may melt into the sheets beneath you. “Not till you admit you want me. Admit you want me to touch you.”
Your face burns a bright red, angry and embarrassed at the same time. You tried to avoid this admittance, ready to die on the hill to protect your already bruised ego.
But then Ellie moves her knee slightly, a shock goes straight through your core. Even the smallest movement had you trying to push down against her needily. She squeezes your face harder. “Just say it, I can make you feel so much better if you just admit it.”
The line your dignity was tiptoeing on is fraying, taken over by the bowling ball amount of weight from the desire in your stomach. The second her knee moves again, the string breaks.
“Please,” you beg, watching as Ellie’s eyes light up at the words, “Ellie I want you to touch me.”
Ellie smiles, reveling in how embarrassed you look. “Where baby?”
You suck in a breath, too far gone to keep fighting, “my pussy, please, please Ellie.. need you to.”
You’re squirming all over now, whining and feeling your throat tighten. Your lip gloss is all over your (and Ellie’s for that matter) chin, and your shirt is still just pushed over your chest. It makes Ellie shake her head. “God, you look pathetic. What happened to you hm? Where’s that put together girl you love to brag about being?”
Any words to snap back die in your throat, her mean tone is making your mind too foggy. The way you are totally at the mercy of her body, of the way she talks to you.. It’s addicting. The feeling of letting go of that control and power you hold so tightly onto.. It's almost as good as the sensation of her knee starting to move more regularly against your center.
“You look like a whore,” she laughed meanly. You are sure it’s true, your skirt is falling down, your hair has snapped out of its tie. Her hand lets go of your chin, and you move your mouth slightly at the soreness. The freedom is short- lived however, and two fingers are tapping your cheek soon after.
“Open,” Ellie says, smiling when you do so immediately. “See, it's not hard to be a good girl.”
She sinks the two fingers into your waiting mouth, one quick demand to, “Suck,” is all you need to close your mouth around them.
You aren’t careful about it, drool seeping out the corner of your mouth when she starts thrusting the fingers in and out slightly, watching in amusement as she curls her long fingers slightly, making you gag. “So fucking messy,” she mumbles.
Her pupils are just as blown out as yours when she speaks again, pulling her fingers out after deeming they were wet enough. A line of spit follows, connecting to your lips.
She wipes the excess across your face, furthering that deep embarrassment that builds in you. “‘m gonna fuck you now, princess.”
She says it as she makes you sit up with her on the bed, arm pulling to set you up how she wanted, knees tucked under your thighs on each side of her lap. You let her push and tug you around— fully dumbed out for her at this point. Desperate for some relief.
her fingers play with your skirt for a moment, and you both watch intently as they disappear under it. You push into her, earning a quick look. “Be good,” the girl demands.
You stop your movements, mumbling something Ellie can't understand. The pad of her finger slides over your clothed slit— humming at the wet feeling.
“You’re fucking soaked,” she shook her head, “All from what? Cause I was mean to you? Just from my knee, baby? How pathetic.”
Another whine rips from your throat, head falling to her shoulder. She shrugs it to force your head up again. “Want ya to look at me while I do this,” she explains— green eyes now mostly black as they meet your own. You nod, trying to please her enough for the next move.
“Atta girl..” she praises.
Your panties are pushed to the side as she sinks a singular finger into you— both of you moaning at the feeling. You’re so warm and tight around her that she gets dizzy, a warmth pooling in between her own legs. But tonight, It was about you. It was about proving who had the control here.. who could make you feel so good.
“Fuck,” you blubber, not getting a chance to savor the feeling before shes moving it in and out quickly, and then she is adding another finger.. and a minute after that, another. It's stretching you so well, so perfectly that you swear you could come right there. But you don’t, eyes set on her own— a hard look on her face as she watches your reactions. She leans closer, wanting to hear every little breath, every whimper.
“What would they think, hm?” Ellie huffs, pressing further into you. “All those frat boys who eye you up at every party,” she adds with a particularly hard thrust. “What do you think they would say if they found out it was me you got up that pretty little skirt first?” She whispers against your ear. Each word is emphasized with a press of her fingers, each rougher.. deeper, than the last.
You can feel your cheeks burning, and you blink away the tears welling in your eyes. You can't help the reaction— it's too much. She’s too much. The feeling is stealing all coherent words and thoughts from your mind— making you a teary and whining mess.
It made a fire flick in Ellie’s lower stomach— knowing she was the cause of pristine, pretty, perfect you— looking so messy. So fucked out. All from just her fingers. From her words.
“Too dumb to answer?” she teases, “too drunk on my fingers to even say anything?”
You shake your head like it isn’t true, and she slows her hand. You shake, trying to thrust yourself down onto them.
“Tell me then princess, tell me none of them could fuck you like this. No one could get you this fucking pathetic other than me.”
Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks now, lip quivering as you search for more friction. “Please, please el,” you cry, “No one else no one else, just you-“
All of your words slur together, and your nails dig into Ellie’s shoulder enough to make her hiss. The answer seems good enough, and she resumes her quick and harsh movements, fingers curling to hit that spot that made your mouth fall open, tears dripping past your lips.
“Fuck yea, only me,” she groans, your words pushing her to make you come even more now, thumb rubbing against your clit. It coaxes downright pornographic noises from you. Ones that someone had to have heard. You don’t give a fuck though, not right now.
“M’ gonna come,” you whine, face falling to Ellie’s shoulder again, pressing your nose into the crook of her neck. This time Ellie allows it— too focused on the wet sounds of her fingers moving in and out of you under the now ruined skirt.
“Alright baby, you can come,” Ellie coos— finally showing a bit of kindness to you as you clench around her fingers. “Come for me, princess.”
The cord in your stomach snaps, and you have to bite at Ellie’s neck to stop from screaming. The orgasm hits you like a fucking train, shaking harshly.
Ellie works you through it, mumbling compliments against you. “So pretty, so messy and perfect for me,” she hums. When she is sure you have calmed down enough, she slowly pulls her fingers out, and then lays you back against the bed. You sink into the mattress, cheeks red and wet with tears. She admires you, messy fingers pressing to her own lips to get a taste. The flavor of you, god Ellie thinks she may be addicted. She sucks her fingers clean and for a moment debates ringing another orgasm out of you with her tongue. But the look on your face, how tired you look.. she decides to save it for another time.
For now she stands, searching around until she finds the attached bathroom, disappearing into it.
Your eyes search for her, feeling needy. “El-“ you whimper.
“I'm just getting a rag to clean you up baby,” she explains from the open door— and you relax when she walks back out with a warm small rag.
She joined you back on the bed, coaxing your legs open as she very carefully cleans you off. The friction makes more tears drop from your eyes.
“Aw princess,” she pouts— wiping with her other hand to get the tears off of your cheek and drool off your chin. “So pathetic looking.. so pretty.”
The switch between praise and degradation makes you dizzy again, eyes closing for a second.
When shes done cleaning you up, you grab her wrist when she tries to stand. “ w’nna make you feel good el,” you beg. It takes Ellie a moment to match your whiny voice to that of the girl she knew outside of this bedroom, but when she comes back to reality— she shakes her head.
“Later baby, promise. You’re too tired, wanna get you back to your place.”
The promise to not just abandon after this makes your heart twist in your chest, that cold front that Ellie put on while fucking you straying away now.
You nod, letting Ellie help you sit up.
“Ready to walk through that door?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow.
A tired laugh bubbles in your throat just at the thought, cheeks hot all over again.
“Yea. Yea, I’ll just say we got into a fist fight.”
“Fucking brat.”
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chibieggplant · 20 days
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Law falls for you slow and steady
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Trafalgar law Headcanons | When he has a crush on you
Law's crush on you manifests slowly and subtly. It starts with him noticing the way your eyes light up when discussing something you're passionate about or the kindness you show to others.
He often finds himself stealing glances at you when he thinks you're not looking, only to quickly avert his gaze when you catch him. Law tries to act cool and collected about it, but his crewmates soon start noticing him staring dreamily at you and you can bet they tease him mercilessly about it.
Law's normally precise and focused nature becomes slightly scattered when he's in your presence. He might find himself lost in thought, daydreaming about cute or romantic scenarios involving you, only to snap back to reality with an embarrassed expression.
Despite his tough exterior, Law is not immune to unintentionally blushing furiously or getting flustered around you. Compliment him or praise his skills as a doctor / fighter and he will turn into a stuttering mess.
Whenever you're around, Law's usually calm and collected demeanor becomes a bit more chaotic as he tries to hide his nerves. Suddenly he turns into Corazon and is now tripping over his feet and accidentally bumping into things.
Law's attempts at flirting with you are often hilariously awkward, he's not used to expressing his emotions openly. His deadpan delivery and bluntness don’t help his case either. Penguin tried to give him advice on how to be more romantic but it often comes out wrong. “You’re like the North Star in my chaotic sea of life…except, I’m not lost or anything. Just metaphoricaly…speaking.”
He often attempts to make conversation with you…key word being attempt “So um…did you hear about that new medical breakthrough? It’s fascinating stuff. Way less complicated than…emotions…did you know that the human heart beats around 100,000 times a day?”
He protective side comes out around you, subtly keeping an eye on you during battles or dangerous situations, ensuring you're safe without drawing too much attention to it…Though it’s painfully obvious to everyone else when the poster boy for sticking to the plan diverts his plan just to help you.
Law often overreacts when you have even the slightest injury or ailment, treating it as a major medical emergency. His crewmates find it amusing how he switches instantly into "doctor mode" for the smallest of issues when it comes to you. You have a small cut on your arm? He insists it needs to be sterilised immediately, let him look at it, it might need stitches.
As Law's feelings deepen, he finds himself drawn to your company more and more. He starts seeking opportunities to spend time together, whether it's finally coming out of his office to join you for lunch, or stealing you away to discuss strategies for upcoming missions because he needs your input…he doesn’t, he just hasn’t spoken to you in the past hour and he misses you.
Law's crewmates, particularly Bepo and Penguin, become keen observers of his behavior around you. They notice the subtle shifts in his demeanor, the way his gaze softens when he looks at you, and the genuine smiles that grace his usually stoic face in your presence.
Bepo, becomes his unintentional wingman, trying to nudge him closer to you whenever possible. Though his attempts often just make Law stumble into you. Bepo pushes him to compliment you “Doesn’t y/ns hair look nice today captain? Tell her it looks nice” *cue the adorable bear eyes that Law can’t say no to*
Over time, as your relationship deepens, Law might find the courage to subtly hint at his feelings, although he remains cautious about how you might respond. He’s already lost someone he loves once he can’t lose you too.
He starts leaving small gifts or tokens of affection for you in your room, though he would never admit they were from him. His gifts often end up being quirky or unconventional items that reflect his personality, like a tiny model of the Polar Tang or a cute plushie of Bepo.
Regardless of his reserved nature, Law's crush on you brings out a softer side of him. Over time, as trust and mutual understanding deepen between you and Law, he begins to open up more to you. He find himself sharing personal stories and memories of his past with you.
Despite being a former warlord, Law becomes a bit of a nervous wreck when he tries to confess his feelings to you. He rehearses his lines multiple times in the mirror, only to end up blurting out something completely different.
“You know I’ve performed countless surgeries but trying to fix my heart after meeting you is the toughest one yet…wait, that sounded smoother in my head. What I meant is that it seems that I have a significant affection coefficient towards you…dammit! I mean, I-i really like you a lot!”
Law’s crush on you blossoms into true love, he cherishes the bond you have that’s built on trust, respect and genuine care. You become a source of joy and lightheartedness during his chaotic days, bringing much needed colour and love to his life.
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pierregazly · 8 months
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in the mind of another ꨄ max verstappen
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max verstappen x fem!soulmate!reader
warnings: mentions of sexual themes (no smut), pining/yearning for another, tiny bit of angst but hea! [wc is 5.4k]
in which soulmates always have a way of building the connection with one another. for you and max, you've always been the voice instead the others head, the one thing that has always been a constant presence. but will that voice inside your head, ever be the voice you hear from in front of you?
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By legal terms, a soulmate was defined as “person with whom one has a feeling of deep or natural affinity.  This may involve similarity, love, romance, platonic relationships, comfort, intimacy, sexuality, sexual activity, spirituality, compatibility and trust.” In today’s day and age, more often than not, your soulmate was that of romantic origin, a person you yearned for on a regular basis. 
It was something instilled in you at an early age, that everyone had a soulmate, but not everyone met their soulmate. Everyone had a way of interacting with their soulmate before they met. You learned early on, very early on, that you could interact with your soulmate through your mind. Through words, pictures, even internal conversations. But sometimes those interactions would lead to nothing, and your parents tried to ensure you were aware of that in the fear that you would be heartbroken one day.  
One thing you could never do was tell them your name, who you were, or where you were until it was time. It was like your mind would go elsewhere when you tried to tell the male on the other end who you were. He told you the same thing happened to him every time he tried.  
The both of you spent a plentiful amount of time interacting in your shared youth. He would often ramble on about his day, about go-karting, and his dad who he kind of hated but obviously loved, about his mum who he missed, and his sister who he couldn’t wait to see when she came to visit him wherever he was in the world. 
You would do the same, you’d tell him about the things you did that specific day, explain little things about your family, the things you looked forward to for the remainder of the week. It was something you both just got used to. 
The both of you grew up together. Even if it wasn’t physical, you were an emotional tether for one another when either of you needed it. He was there for almost all of your firsts, your first graduation, your first familial heartbreak, your first crush, your first boyfriend (which he was eager to help you through when it ended).  
Ever embarrassing to admit, he was even the one in your mind, more times than you can count, when you felt the butterflies in your tummy growing as your fingers explored different parts of your body. He always pushed you to continue, telling you exactly what he would do with his own fingers, or his own tongue; when he finally got the chance to make you feel the way you were making yourself feel. 
It was something you didn’t speak about after it happened, but it didn’t change the fact he was usually the one your brain went to when you made yourself feel that way. He argued it was the soulmate connection, that your soul just simply wanted him to be the one to do it. 
As time went on, the conversations dwindled amongst the two of you, both of you growing up and growing out of the fantasy that you would meet your soulmate one day, meet each other. 
You still got glimpses into his brain occasionally, pictures of blue and red cars, racecars are what you presumed. His fingers on what looked like a controller, but turned out to be a steering wheel when you asked him what it was. 
“Seems like a bit of an extravagant steering wheel, no?” 
The silent laugh was loud in your mind, as if you could feel his body rumbling in its laughter at your words, “Pretty extravagant, yeah. Not everyone gets to use something like this, though.” 
“Explain the steering wheel to me, there’s too many buttons and toggles,” you prompted him, knowing full well it would dive him deep into an explanation about the object you so often saw inside his head. 
That was another thing you learned about him early on. He liked to explain everything. He used to spend hours describing the go-karts he drove every weeknight and weekend, putting as much detail and emphasis into his explanations so that you would better understand. As time went on, so did his explanations, explaining situations he’s found himself in around the world, explaining how his career was kicking his ass but how he loved it, occasionally getting drunk and explaining how soulmates worked and that it was inevitable you’d meet one day, even if it felt like that day was never coming.  
Not wanting to be the one to burst his fantasy and ruin whatever hope he had, you would usually just nod along and silently hum to him when the conversation of eventually meeting one day was brought up. 
You still shared nights together, even from thousands of miles apart, your brain yearning for him as his did the same. 
There were moments in time, where you were positive you had almost met him, or perhaps had made eye contact with him. It was a small feeling inside of you, like everything you were looking for was in the same building as you, or around the corner, or even in the same city. 
Usually just as fast as the feeling appeared, it was gone. It never lasted for long periods of time, it was like your soulmate bond was teasing you, pushing for you to reinstate your faith in the connection. He always argued that if you lost faith in the soulmate bond, it would lose faith in trying to push the two of you together. 
Yet another thing you learned early on, whoever he was, arguing was in his blood. If he disagreed with you, with something you said, or with an opinion you had, he would go off into a whole explanation and argument about why he knew you were wrong, and how he knew he was right. 
It was endearing, how passionate he was about everything in his life, and seeing how his passion for everything just continued to grow as he grew up.  
Over the last 8 years, you had learned not to even attempt to communicate with him on Saturday or Sundays. He had told you that it was the busiest time of the work week for him, and that he couldn’t handle internal distractions on those days. 
You would only speak to him when he spoke to you on those days. Usually it was a fleeting ‘have a nice rest of your weekend’ or ‘I can’t wait until you’re here with me, celebrating this with me’.  
He never elaborated on the last part, and you never went out of your way to ask. Whoever he was, he was usually celebrating something on Sundays, at least that’s what you assumed from the raw happiness and elation that usually went through your connection on those days. 
You hadn’t heard from him, from your soulmate, in weeks. Which wasn’t necessarily unusual, either of you could cut off the connection for weeks at a time if things were stressful in life, or if you just needed a break from the never-ending person that was inside your head at all times. 
It didn’t mean you didn’t miss his dry sense of humour, the bluntness with which he said things to you, the never-ending arguments about the stupidest things. You would never admit any of this to him, though.  
Ignoring the yearning-feeling from inside of you, you allowed yourself to think about how things would be if you ever met the person on the other end of the connection. Would it be instant happiness? Relief? Joy? 
People always explained their own experiences to you, saying it was like love at first sight, but amplified so significantly, because it felt like your soul was complete, like everything was finally where it needed to be in life. They described it as meeting the one thing that made you whole, the one thing that made you continuously push to be your best self, to continuously push to be better at everything you did in life.  
You truly couldn’t believe what they said, not that it sounded exaggerated or silly. It was just difficult to imagine anything causing a feeling so instantaneously and intense as what they described.  
Your friends had disappeared earlier in the day, eager to try and find themselves different drivers throughout the entrances to get photos or autographs with. You really had no interest in any of it. Your soulmate had eagerly admired, and shit talked almost every single person on the grid to you, at least once or twice, so it really wasn’t worth trying to interact with any of them after that. 
Your paddock pass sat heavily on your chest, the lanyard rubbing against your neck as the bright Sun shined down upon your skin. The cheering of the Tifosi could be heard throughout the entire fan sections. The Ferrari faithful were dedicated, especially at their own Grand Prix. 
He had told you that Monza was one of the ones not to miss. That it was electric, regardless of who you drove for, even if the fans were booing your favourite driver, or your favourite team, it was a delight to drive in Monza. 
You found yourself staring at the different drivers names that were wrapped around the seating section. Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell... Max Verstappen. 
He was handsome, that you could admit. With his pretty blue eyes, and his arrogant little smirk, and his annoying obsession with having to win.  
“Oh, you think Max Verstappen has pretty blue eyes, huh?”  
A small sound erupted from your chest as you listened to the words floating through your head from the man you hadn’t heard from in weeks. 
“Look who’s alive! Thought you got lost with your little controller steering wheel.” 
Laughing at your words, “You didn’t answer my question! You think Max Verstappen has pretty eyes?” 
“I think Max Verstappen himself is pretty. Other than when he’s being an arrogant prick.” 
That feeling had been eating at you all day, again. Like your soulmate bond was trying to force you to go in a direction you weren’t understanding. It was like it was trying to tell you that he was here, that he was so close you could almost smell him, almost touch him. You had been ignoring the little jabs inside of you all day, refusing to acknowledge the fact that maybe, just maybe, the person you were yearning for so heavily, was so close. 
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“My soulmate just called me an arrogant prick, without realizing she was calling me an arrogant prick.”  
The Brit in front of him guffawed, his whole body moving as he gripped his side at Max’s words, “Mate, how did that even happen?” 
Shrugging his shoulders as he looked at Lando, “Not too sure. I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks, figured she had shut the connection off for some time alone and all of a sudden, she’s thinking about how ‘Max Verstappen has such pretty blue eyes’ and then told me that I’d... or he’d be attractive all the time if he wasn’t such an arrogant prick.”  
Patting his shoulder gently, all Lando did was grin at him, “Just think, mate. At least whoever she is, she thinks you have pretty eyes and that you’re good looking when you’re not being an arrogant prick.” 
Max shoved him as he walked by, walking away in the direction of his driver's room. He had been having that feeling again, like his body was yearning for something that it couldn’t explain to him. He had tried to ask a few people about it, had asked Sebastian in the past if it was something he had experienced before meeting Hanna. Of course, Seb hadn’t been much help when one considered the fact that he and his soulmate had met in their shared childhood. 
It wasn’t something he could ask either of his parents, both admitting long ago that they weren’t destined for one another and that they had never had a connection with their true soulmates, which allowed them to willingly marry each other. Victoria had met her soulmate and now husband when they were young as well, so she would be of no help. 
He was almost embarrassed to ask Christian, or any other older person who had already met their soulmate. He was a grown man, he could literally just google it if he wanted to, but what exactly would he type in? 
What is that weird yearning feeling I get every now and then, out of the blue, in random buildings or random cities? 
Max was almost positive the answer would be ‘allergies’ or ‘hunger’. He figured that maybe it was soulmate related, it would make sense, but it wasn’t a feeling he had often. It wouldn’t make sense to only yearn so heavily for your soulmate in certain areas. 
It was always the strongest when he felt like he was truly connecting with you. He noticed it for the first time when both of you had touched yourselves to the sound of the other, egging one another on, saying exactly what the both of you know the other wanted to hear. Max couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed that time with you, how intimate it was, how much he craved to be the one making you moan and whimper. 
The feeling always grew after that, the yearning for the other person, the desire to have you there with him, the desire to have you underneath him after a night of celebration, the desire to have you wrapped in his arms, the desire to send you an unnecessary bouquet of flowers... if he could just figure out who you were, all of that would be possible.  
But the yearning today was different. It was like his body was trying to tell him he needed to go somewhere, trying to encourage him to walk down halls he didn’t usually walk down, or trying to push him in directions that made no sense.  
“You gonna tell me why you’re thinking of Max Verstappen so much today, and why you’re thinking so much about his pretty blue eyes?” 
He could feel the involuntary smile reach his lips when he heard your soft laugh. He really tried not to be someone who was smitten with a person he had never met, but he couldn’t deny that he was in love with you, likely had been since the both of you were young.  
You were the one constant in his life, the one person he could always turn to when he needed someone. You listened to all his ranting, dealt with hours upon hours of ‘Maxsplaining’, dealt with unnecessary outbursts and temper tantrums, but you never complained about it. You always eagerly pushed for him to continue, asking him more and more questions, prompting him out of his head and prompting him to get over whatever frustration had pushed him over the edge that day.  
“If you must know. I’m at the Monza Grand Prix, and I had to get away from all the Ferrari fans for a bit, pretty sure they were going to blow my ear drums. Max Verstappen’s name is everywhere, so I, of course, had to internally acknowledge his attractiveness while grimacing at his name in front of me.” 
Max felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. You were here? In Italy? At the Monza Grand Prix? The same place where he was, at this very moment, at this very second?  
He could tell you were waiting for a response from him to your words. It was like he could sense the raise of your eyebrows from the silence that emitted between your connection.  
“You’re in Monza?” He questioned eagerly, his hands sweating as he waited for a response 
“Yes sir, just about to try and force myself to go find my friends and head back to the paddock so I can avoid getting trampled by any other Ferrari fans.” 
Max knew almost instantly that, that had to be what the feeling was. The yearning. You were close by, and his side of the soulmate connection knew it.  
He had tried to tell you who he was before, had tried to explain it to you in words that the connection wouldn’t muffle or meddle with. It never worked. Any time he tried to explain to you who he was, or what he did for a living, it was like his brain malfunctioned and he had to hotwire it back on. 
You had told him the same thing happened to you every time you tried to explain to him who you were, or the easiest ways to find you in the real world. Every time either of you tried, it was like the connection was shutting it down. 
Daniel had told him it was likely the bond, telling him it wasn’t the time yet, that the both of you had to wait until the bond was steady and ready for you to finally meet in person. Max had never believed it, until right now.  
You had never been able to tell him exactly where you were before, at least, not that he can ever remember. You had told him the things you were doing in the past, had told him the people you were spending time with, even that you were getting dinner in certain districts. Any time you had tried to tell him the restaurant, or the city even, the connection would malfunction. 
But you were just mentally able to tell him where you were, you were internally able to tell him where you were going in the place that you currently were. 
“I’m... I’m in Monza too. At the Grand Prix, I mean.” 
He could almost feel the instant shock and excitement at his words. Before he or you could get the chance to say anything else, he heard GP calling for him, the annoyed expression on his face an indication that he had been looking for Max for far longer than he actually wanted to be.  
“I have to get back to work. Please, don’t leave before you hear from me again. Maybe this is a sign.” 
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You could practically feel the shock coursing through your body. Both of you were here. In Monza. At the Grand Prix. At the same time, together... but not together? You tried to contain the giddiness at his words, a silent hum in acknowledgement when he told you not to leave. How could you leave? Especially now that you knew he was here? And that he was working? 
It gave you some indication as to why he was always so busy on Saturdays and Sundays, if he worked for a Formula 1 team, or for Formula 1 in itself. Their biggest days of the week were the weekends, especially during race weeks. It made sense why he could never talk on those days of the week, or why he always seemed so happy or moody on Sundays. 
You couldn’t believe that both of you were able to tell each other where the other was, that the connection finally allowed you to give that little tidbit of important information to the other. Maybe it finally was time, maybe the connection was finally allowing you to meet the one person you had been yearning for, even if you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t.  
The text message to your friends asking where they were garnered a response, which prompted you out of your train of thought. Letting them know that you were on your way to their location, your brain moved back to the previous thought your mind was on. He was here, like truly here. Within the same 10 kilometers as you. Probably the closest either of you had ever been to each other before. 
Your friends greeted you eagerly when you finally found them, excitably telling you all about the drivers they had met, how Alex Albon even recognized two of them from previous Grand Prix and how they just knew Charles Leclerc was going to win today because the Tifosi were going crazy and how could you not win with all that support screaming for you? 
Nodding along with a smile on your face, you had an inkling they were wrong. Max Verstappen was likely going to get his tenth win in a row, but you weren’t going to say that to them.  
The drivers parade went by faster than you were expecting, before you knew it, the cars and their drivers were lining up in their respective places along the grid. Your friends eagerly itching for a better view of the upcoming race. You couldn’t even put the effort in to pay attention, wondering where he was right now.  
Was he working? Was he one of the mechanics? One of the pit crew, eagerly waiting for their driver to pull into their spot? One of the engineers, hoping their instructions and their drivers did as they were supposed to? You tried not to let your mind wander to the other possibility, but it was hard not to. 
What if he was one of the drivers? One of the 20 men now pushing themselves around the track at the fastest speed their car could take them? You tried not to stay on that thought too long, but your mind seemed to wander back to it.  
It would make sense, really. Whoever he is, he had been karting since he was a boy. His father had been unnecessarily forceful with him about it, always pushing him even when he was down, telling him that champions didn’t cry and that if he wanted to win everything one day, he had to act like he wanted to.  
He always made it seem like he was on top of the world on Sundays, like everything he ever wanted had happened that day. Would a mechanic, or an engineer, or someone from the pit crew consistently have that level of elation on Sundays?  
You knew it was possible, if they were working for a winning team, or a winning driver, and that driver was making their lives as easy as possible, then you knew it was definitely a possibility. You just couldn’t shake the idea that maybe, just maybe, it was one of the drivers. 
The crowd was cheering as eagerly as they possibly could, Verstappen had overtaken Sainz three laps prior after the Spainard had led for 15 laps straight. The Tifosi were relentless though, cheering as loud as they could for their two drivers. Your friends had resigned themselves to the fact that Verstappen was getting his tenth win in a row, which was slowly coming closer and closer as the time ticked down. 
It felt like time was zooming by; the minutes on the clock trickling down as the stadium waited for that last lap to start. Sainz was battling to keep Leclerc in fourth, doing everything in his power to keep the third podium spot he had rightfully earned. 
The checkered flag waved as the Red Bull car of Max Verstappen passed the finish line, a simultaneous cheer erupting within the crowd when the two red Ferrari’s passed the line with barely a second apart. 
That feeling inside of you, the yearning, it had been getting stronger and stronger throughout the race. Strong enough that you had to rub at your chest with a grimace more than once, ignoring the signs that obviously your soul connection was trying to give to you.  
The television in front of you showed Max Verstappen on the top of his car, both hands and 10 fingers up as he stared at the moving camera, an obvious celebration beginning as he ran towards his team. Verstappen jumped at them, right as you heard his voice in your head. 
“Where are you right now? I want to see you. I need to see you.” 
He sounded out of breath, but elated, as per usual on a Sunday. Must work for Red Bull then, you thought to yourself. 
“I don’t really know how to explain where I am, I’m in the Paddock Club with my friends.”  
Turning away from the screen, you tried to focus on the words coming through the connection. 
“Come to the area where you can go towards the garages, I’ll have someone tell security to let you in. What are you wearing? I don’t think you’ll be able to tell me your name yet, and I don’t want to risk fucking this up.” 
You had absolutely no clue how to find the area he was describing to you, explaining to him that you didn’t spend most of your time at Grand Prix’s unlike someone, apparently. All he did was laugh joyfully, explaining to you in simpler terms how to get to where he wanted you to go. 
“I have to go do a few more things, but just wait for me, okay? I’ll come to find you, the moment I’m done. I swear.” 
“I’ve waited for years; I think I can wait a few minutes more.” 
He didn’t verbally respond, but you could still feel the happiness, the sense of something you could only describe as adoration come through the connection before he shut it off again. It was obvious he had commitments, but it was disheartening knowing you still had to wait a few more minutes, that he wouldn’t be there waiting for you, behind whatever security guard you were going to have to verbally grapple with to be let behind the barricades. 
All you told your friends when you left was you had to go make a call, and that it may take a few minutes. They tried to argue with you, telling you the drivers were just about to do their post-race interviews and that it was always one of the best parts, but you simply brushed them off, eager to get to where you needed to be. 
It didn’t take you long to find where he had told you to go, his explanations as thorough and necessary as they usually were. Before you could even get a word out to the security guard, a tall brunette in a Red Bull shirt lightly tapped your shoulder and gestured for you to follow her, flashing her entry pass at the guard and pulling you along. 
“I’m Liv. I work in PR with Red Bull; I was told to wait for you. Sorry for just like... pulling you along. No one really gave me any explanation, just that I was told to look out for someone wearing the exact same outfit you are, and that it had something to do with a soulmate thing and I couldn’t get involved or ask questions.” 
“This pass will get you in and out of pretty much wherever you need to be in the Red Bull garage and areas nearby,” the brunette rambled on as the both of you walked, pulling a second entry pass from her back pocket to give to you. 
Both of you stopped in front of what only could be the hospitality lounge, if the plethora of food and drinks were any indication. You didn’t necessarily know where to go, or where to stand, so you looked back over at the brunette with confusion evident in your eyes. 
“Just wait here! He shouldn’t be long. Feel free to snack, or make yourself a tea, or you know... drink whatever really. I have to get back to work. Just like, don’t leave. I’ll probably get in trouble for that. Anyways, bye! Good luck!”  
Not giving you the chance to respond, Liv, as you learned previously, turned and basically ran out of the room. You were left alone in the hospitality area, everyone from Red Bull obviously still celebrating Max Verstappen’s tenth win in a row. 
You didn’t know what to do with yourself, deciding to sit down on one of the couches being the only real option you could decipher. The television was on low, the interviewer speaking to Sainz, Perez, and Verstappen. 
“You look eager to get out of here, Max. Big celebration planned for your tenth straight win?” 
The Dutchman chuckled, a cocky grin prominent on his face, “I have something I have to do after this, of course, though, not the celebration right away. I’m sure the team has a celebration planned, but it’s a bit arrogant of me to be involved in my own celebration party planning, no?” 
The interviewer laughed in response; you simply cocked your head at his words. Ironic that Max Verstappen would call himself arrogant, just hours after you had told him how arrogant you found Verstappen.
A few more questions zoomed by; your own thoughts preoccupied by the idea that your soulmate could be coming towards the room at any minute. The feeling in your chest, in your body as a whole, had grown substantially again since you sat down. What you didn’t notice was him grabbing his chest at the same time you did, rubbing it with a grimace as the yearning grew and grew. 
It didn’t take long for the interview to end, the television going back to the reporters as the drivers evidently went to go do whatever it is they do after their post-race interviews. 
You could hear someone walking down the hallway, which was strange considering how busy the Red Bull garage had to be right now. The steps grew louder as they got closer and closer to the room you were in, the door slamming open being the only thing to pull you out of your thoughts as you spun around. 
Making direct eye contact with your soulmate for the first time was exactly how everyone described it. It was instant, the feeling that seated itself inside your heart, inside your mind. It felt like you were whole, like everything you had done in the past 24 hours, let alone the past 10 years, had led you to this exact moment. 
You subconsciously moved off the couch, stepping in the direction of the man that was now eyeing your every move. You couldn’t tell what was going through his mind, whether he was happy, disheartened, you didn’t know. 
He stepped in your direction, just as you put another foot towards him. You could see the corners of his lips turning up, a smile starting to edge itself onto his cheeks.  
“I can’t believe you’re really here. In front of me. Like, a real person.” 
It was the same voice that you’ve heard in your head for years, except the words were coming from the mouth of the man in front of you, coming from the mouth of the man with the prettiest blue eyes you had ever seen. 
You barely had time to process anything before he had wrapped his arms around you, pulling you directly into his chest as you wrapped your own arms around his body.  
He was real. Everything you had yearned for, for years was real, and Max was right there, holding you in his arms as he pressed his lips against the crown of your head, not wanting to let you go. 
Max could barely contain his eagerness as he basically sprinted down the hall of the Red Bull garage after the end of the interview. Olivia had told him where she had brought you, telling you to wait in the hospitality lounge and that he’d be there to see you as quickly as he could get out. 
He couldn’t believe that you were really there. After spending years of talking to an invisible force inside his head, years of having a constant companion who he could turn to for internal comfort, you were barely seconds away from him. 
Max didn’t hesitate to throw the door of the lounge open, making eye contact with you just a second later. 
Everyone was right, the feeling you get when you finally meet your soulmate, the person that’s supposed to complete you in the best of ways. It was instant love, instant happiness, a feeling better than any win he had ever accomplished, a feeling that could barely be explained in one million words.  
He knew right then that he loved you, and when you smiled at him, he knew you knew it too.  
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i am obsessed with the soulmate trope so this obviously got out of hand and way more descriptive than i intended. im hoping you all love it as much as i loved writing it!! let me know what you think
my requests are also open :)
taglist
@leclercdream @myescapefromthislife @iloveyou3000morgan @love4lando @asfaraslifegets @decseptapril @somanyfandomsbruh
if you're interested in being added to my taglist, just send me a message/reply and ill add ya. i lost my list of who asked so if you weren't tagged and wanted to be pls let me know. (if your name has a strike through it, it wouldn't let me tag you)
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tarjapearce · 5 months
Note
OMG Rosie with fangs 😩 would she chomp on mama while she was drinking her milk, ouch 🤕
Just imagined this and damn, my nipples hid lol. Little Rosie is a chomper.
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Miguel out of everyone knew the risks that involved into having his children. Complicated births due the baby size that could lead up to a c section, some of his mutations, like his fangs, his eye's color, or even his height.
He was so fearful to know what kind of thing would crawl up to his children's DNA that when Gabi was born, he couldn't be happier cause his little girl looked so normal.
His fears of watching Gabriella grow and constantly checking on her mouth or eyes had triggered a little fight. His insecurities were one of the biggest challenges that you, as a marriage had got through. But your constant reassuring and actions, proved that no matter how your children came, you'd love them all the same.
Just like him.
When Benjamin was born, he wasn't obsessively searching for any anomalies in his baby, but rather enjoyed his time with his son. Being over the moon was little to say when he heard the news from the doctor. He'd finally teach little Benjamin everything that he lacked as a boy.
And now, thirteen years later, he was blessed with another girl. You cried upon knowing that Gabi would have her so longed sister. Your little flower was as healthy as Gabi and Benjamin, and definitely chubbier than Benjamin, thanks to all those cheesesticks with Dulce de leche you had scarfed down.
But there she was, ready for her nightime feeding. Her grunts and fussiness was her own way to urge you to feed her.
A not so quiet 'I'm hungry, Mama".
Gabi usually kneaded your breast softly as she latched on you, Benjamin loved to pull on your nipples with a giggle, or even slap your breast softly before feeding from your milky buffet. Rosie however had developed this amusing yet painful habit to shake her little head while chomping softly on you.
As her four months old approached, so was the itch in her gums. Miguel would design devices that resembled alot your breast, cause once Rosie had been fed, your nipples would be swollen and pained. He knew you suffered.
Yet, it was a sacrifice you were willing to do to see your children healthy.
Rosie had been tugging softly at the now sensitive flesh, her tiny hand bawled ontop of your breast, securing it in place. Your eyes would narrow in pained waves as she interrupted her feeding to sleepily chew on your nipple.
"Don't play with your food, Mi amor."
A little joke that instantly granted you a powerful chomp from her. Tears flooded your eyes immediately as a yelp came out your lips, startling Rosie that bursted into tears.
You heard Miguel's hurried steps rushing to your side and his eyes widened upon seeing you crying while trying to carefully pull Rosie out.
"Hey, hey, it's ok. Let me help"
Alarmed he managed to detach Rosie from you, and his eyes and yours could only widen as soon as your eyes fell on your nipple. Leakin not only with milk, but a faint pink-ish and red hue in it.
Her teething had made her uncomfortable and she wanted to breastfeed almost all day. But this particular bite had been painful enough to make you cry.
"-Salaverga" (Holy shit)
Miguel mumbled while looking into Rosita's mouth. Peeking from her gums, there were two pointy and tiny fangs.
"You ok?"
He looked back at you as you hissed and nursed your injured nipple while wiping the couple of tears that had escaped.
"Y-Yeah... I'm sorry I startled her."
His silence had made you curious as he examined with all the gentleness in the world, Rosie's gums.
A huff of your mouth blew away some strands off as you approached.
"Miguel, I'm not doing this again."
"No no, mi amor. Look. She... Rosita has-"
You gasped, a bit audibly and he tensed.
His little flower had gotten a part of him that brought him so many bad memories, and now they had hurted you.
"Hey, it's ok. Maybe it's time for her to be switched to the bottle."
Your caring hand caressed his shoulder, he melted at the touch and sighed.
"I'll... I'll come up with something."
"Miguel?"
You smooched his cheek and all the worries slumped off his frame.
"I love her, ok? Besides, Gabi once bit me like that. You did too, remember?"
Your soft elbows earned a little chuckle from him.
"Just means we gotta be careful. She's a chomper."
"Will let her bite my fingers then."
His little girl had calmed and clung to him, a little disgruntled by the itch inside her mouth.
"No wonder why she was so fussy."
Miguel rubbed Rosie's back in slow circles, soothing her and putting her to sleep.
"How's the nipple?"
"She punctured it with one of her tiny fangs. I'll be fine."
"Switch her to the bottle. We can't have her injure you again."
A soft whine came from his baby.
"I'll see what I can do, ok?"
Nodding, you went to the bathroom to take a better look at the small injury. He watched his baby, deep asleep on his arms, he then approached her crib and put her inside.
"Only I can play with my food, Mi niña.";
His large fingers massaged her scalp gently before tucking her in her lovingly pink blanket.
"Goodnight mi corazón"
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goldsainz · 10 months
Text
HIS LUCKY CHARM — one shot.
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pairing: lando norris x reader
MASTERLIST.
summary: lando is disappointed you can’t make it to his home race, only to be surprised at the end.
request: “Hi! Could you write something about Lando and reader when she surprise him on race day. Lando is sad when she told can't do this on his home race bc something important with her work but after all she appears on Sunday on track. He is more than happy with that and archive good resolut be she is his lucky charm”
warnings: teeny tiny bit of angst, a probably not accurate depiction of the garage
NOTE: WHAT A RACE!! loved the lando+lewis podium, also oscar was great 🫶 anyway, to celebrate have this little thing, thank you sm for requesting bc this inspired me a lot (you kinda manifested the good result???) i added a shameless cameo in there, i just couldnt help myself! (the ending is rushed, ignore it😁)
[ word count: 2,2k ]
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“I’m so sorry, Lando.” Is what you say to your boyfriend when you have to break the bad news to him.
“It’s okay.” His face breaks into a broken smile, with glossy eyes he holds your hands and brushes his thumbs up and down your palms.
“I’ll still tune in.” 
“I know.”
“I’ll be rooting for you.” 
“I know.”
You take your hands from his hold, and place them around his neck. You watch as his right posture lightly relaxes at your touch. 
“I don’t wanna miss it. You know I don’t.” 
You wish your job wasn’t as demanding as it was, that it didn’t make you fly to another country in the middle of your boyfriend’s home Grand Prix. But it does. And you’re not sure how to handle the emotional stress it inflicts on you both, and you sure hope it doesn’t affect him in a way that will mess up his race.
“And if I could make it, I would.” 
“It’s alright. It’s your job, I know it’s not your fault.” Even though Lando’s words seem reassuring, and he means them with his whole heart; you still feel guilty. 
With that, he stands up and makes his way to the kitchen of your shared apartment. You watch him leave, and with a heavy heart start to pack whatever stuff you need for your trip. It destroys you to see him sad so close to his home race, a time where he should be joyous, only worried about the car and nothing more. 
You’re not sure how you’re going to make it up to him, but you will.
Somehow.
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You were being a little secretive, and you were sure Lando definitely noticed. 
Your boss and you had managed to come to an arrangement which allowed you to be present for the race. It would all be very tight in timing, but nothing that couldn’t be accomplished. It involved a lot of overworking the days before, but it was very much worth it.
You could already imagine the face Lando would make when he finally saw you. Whether he got a good result or not, there was no doubt you wanted to be there with him. 
It took a lot of care for you to arrive at the paddock almost incognito, with fans already speculating why you weren't at his home race. Thankfully no break-up rumours had surfaced, but there were a couple hurtful ones that made you want to be present even more. 
But you knew that no matter how much Lando acted like he was oblivious to what happened around him, his silly act was simply that; an act. You didn't like keeping secrets from him, it felt wrong to have to blatantly lie to him whilst everyone around him knew something he didn't. Still, it would all work out in the end.
Lando’s family had been so happy to see you in the paddock. His grandma (who adored you) hugged you as tightly as she could, quickly bidding you goodbye when you told her you had to go to the garage quickly to get prepared for the race. 
There was no doubt that the tingly feeling of nerves creeped up on you the moment you spotted all the engineers and people moving around, getting everything that needed to be set up wrapped up so the race could go smoothly. Zak was already at the pit wall, and Lando was sitting in his car ready for the formation lap to begin. 
At the garage you spotted Florence Pugh, who had a McLaren headset on. You had seen her on the paddock, but wasn't aware of the fact that she had come to the race invited by McLaren. You tried not to freak out, you saw celebrities almost everywhere when you came to races or went out with Lando. Still, the actress had a special place in your heart.
It took a little of hyping yourself up, and confidence to walk up to her, but you did. You would be sharing the garage for an hour and a half, the least you could do is socialise a little. 
“Hi! I’m Y/N.” You said to Florence watching her turn around with a smile on her face.
“Hello!” She says, greeting you like you were an old friend. “I’m Florence”
“You’re a McLaren fan?” 
“Honestly, I’m more of a Lewis fan.” She said with a laugh, keeping ehr voice just loud enough so you could hear her.
“I get that. I mean, who isn’t?” 
The conversation flowed for a little more until the race was about to start. You excused yourself and moved to an area closer to the screen, where you could watch Lando close-up. You loved being in the garage because of the different screens and the attention to their drivers, that allowed you to experience the race in different ways.
Your headset was adjusted and you were awaiting the moment where David Croft would say it’s lights out. Your knee was slightly bouncing, but you tried your best to contain the nerves. 
“It lights out and away we go!” Exclaims David Croft, his voice echoing through the garage.
You watch as Lando has a great start, and it takes about a second for him to take the lead. You hear the roar of the crowd before you can even react.
“Yes! Go Lando!” You scream, your voice doesn't make anyone flinch because everyone around you has the same reaction. It is a sight to behold, a moment you are more than grateful to see live. 
“I can’t believe it.” Someone next to you says, and you can't help but smile. 
It is no secret how badly the season started for McLaaren. You watched Lando’s smile waver more than once, his faith in the team never wavering, but still. He was rightfully let down by the performance of the adr,a dn you had to reassure him multiple times that it wasn't his fault. Because he was doing the best that he could with what he had. 
So now, seeing him get to this moment, is absolutely deserved.
A couple of laps go by and Max takes the lead for your boyfriend. There is disappointment in the atmosphere, but everyone knows that P2 is a miracle and that Lando is doing absolutely great work out there. They all know how great it would be to have him finish in that position, especially since Oscar is P3. 
Getting a podium in Silverstone would mean the world to Lando, Which is why you're worried about what will happen when they pit. Whatever strategy they choose will determine if Lando gets podium or not, and you will not pretend to really know what happens or how they come up with strategies, but you hope that they dont mess up his race because of wrong timing or choose the wrong tyres. 
As you watch his car race, you suddenly see on the screen that one of the Haas cars has come to a halt. A safety car is deployed, which means a couple of cars will choose to change tyres. The whole garage groans when Lewis’s car comes out in front of Oscar’s after he pits, now challenging Lando’s position.
It’s like you can’t breathe between those laps that Lando and Lewis battle for P2. Everyone is at the edge of their seats watching them race against the other, and you hope that this doesn't end up running both their races. The last thing anyone wants is for them to crash, because going from that position to a DNF would result in disappointment for everyone involved.
“Come on, Lando! Come on!” You scream, your palms intertwined in front of you as you watch him fight for his position. 
Thankfully, Lando manages to maintain his standing and leaves Lewis behind him for good. The hard compound tyres he was pitted for are giving him a tough time, you know that it is not ideal. Not when he could've lost his position, but with just 10 laps to go your faith in him is over the roof. 
You’re on twitter, refreshing your timeline to see if there is anything you missed. The fans are so enthusiastic, their comments make you smile. Even if there are people out there who don't like Lando, there are even more who love him and want nothing but the best for him. 
You watch as Florence is escorted out of the garage since she will be waving the flag. You watch her face light up in excitement, and in all her excitement she still waves at you. You don't waste a second in waving right back at her, turning your head right after to the screens.
The moment Lando crosses the finish line the McLaren garage erupts in cheers. You hug whoever is next to you, a teary smile pulling at your lips. You cannot help the tears that fall down your face, you usually don't get that emotional during a race, but this is his home race and he is on the podium. If there is any time to cry, this is it. 
You are almost running to the barriers, waiting for the moment that Lando steps out of his car and goes to celebrate with the team. You are wearing his merch, something that will surely stand out to him, enough that in his podium haze he will spot you. 
He goes up to the team, his helmet now long gone, and that is when he sees you.
You who told him you couldn't make it, are suddenly there. 
In a flash he moves in front of you. You cannot tell him anything because in an instant he is grabbing you, squeezing you so tight he lifts you up from the ground in excitement, you giggle right in his ear and he is sure that that is the most beautiful sound he will ever hear. He is careful not to take the barrier with him, not wanting a warning from the stewards.
After a couple seconds you pull back slightly enough to see his face. Your hands waste no time in grabbing his face and placing his lips right over  yours. Lando reacts almost immediately, melting right into the kiss, the adrenaline from the race still pumping through his veins. You can hear some cameras click, and the cheer from some people, but you ignore it.
You have to pull back eventually, not because you want to, but because there is so much to say and not enough time, not to forget the fact that he has yet to go to the podium.
“I cannot believe you’re here.” He whispers right over your lips, his sticky forehead pressed against yours.
“I couldn’t miss this.” You say, watching as his lips pull into a grin.
“I was pretty cool out there, wasn't I?” You snort at his words, separating from him but his hands never leave your waist.
“Oscar was really cool.” His grip on your waist tightens, “I haven’t properly congratulated him yet, actually.”
Someone from the team says something to him, you're sure they're telling him to wrap your conversation up because he has to go up to the podium. 
“You were great out there.” You tell him, your eyes holding all the sincerity in the world. You watch his gaze soften at your words, and he places a quick peck as he finally lets you out of his hold.
“Of course I was,” You shake your head at his smugness, “My lucky charm was here.”
You cannot help the tears that well up in your eyes at the softness of his words. You know that the celebrations and compliments are not over, but for now they are. You step back a little from the barrier, seeing as he is rushed to the podium and joins his fellow drivers on the steps. 
You smile up at him, watching as he grabs the champagne. He moves it around a little and then hits it against the ground, effectively bringing back the iconic champagne spike he does whenever he is on the podium. 
Lando sprays it everywhere, and you're almost sure a little hits you. Your theory is confirmed when he is smiling widely at you, like a kid caught doing something he should but isn't the least bit sorry. You laugh at his antics, which in turn makes him smile even wider (which you're not sure how it's even possible). 
When the champagne runs out, his gaze catches yours once more. You mouth an “I love you” to him, watching from afar as he blushes. A second after he returns the sentiment, mouthing it back and blowing you a kiss.
You thank your boss in your head for letting you be here with him, because if you hadn't been here with him you would've sure felt horrible for it. 
After all, Lando needs his lucky charm with him and you're more than happy to oblige to his wishes.
2K notes · View notes
absolutebl · 4 months
Text
Best & Worst BLs of 2023
My Top 15 BLs of 2023 are (in order)
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1 Our Dating Sim
Korea Viki
Nerds in love, deadlines, gaming, teasing, pining tiny idiots, casual affection, linguistic oops, ADORABLE. If you haven't watched this, it's a must. A perfect short form KBL, an office set reunion romance featuring geeks that really suits 8 eps with no fluff and no chaff. Just comforting and yummy.
I adored every aspect from the casting to the pristinely simple premise to the quietly smooth execution. Sure it’s low stakes, but that makes it high domesticity and extremely warm and gentle. This is a fuzzy blanket of a story - a cozy BL. It lives in my rewatch pile and you know what’s best about it? Every single episode is in that pile. There’s no skipping with this one, it might be good natured and calmly sweet but it’s tight and the pacing is excellent.
Also recieves my 2023 award for best giggle.
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2 I Cannot Reach You
AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai
Japan Netflix
This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen.
Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way.
This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen.
Also wins the best thirst award.
These were the 2 BLs that got 10/10 from me in 2023. The rest of these got 9/10 from me.
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3 My School President
Thailand YouTube
GMMTV gave us a classic high school set Thai BL with tropes like messy boys singing their feelings that made this one Love Sick for the modern age with all the gentle sweetness and pining ache, but none of the dated damaging tropes or issues. Who let my BL be this wholesome and funny? My favourite GMMTV BL offering to date. And yes, I've watched them ALL.
Received the Namgoong award for best wingman 2023.
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4 I Feel You Linger in the Air
Thailand grey
IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework. Steeped in history and family drama this is an elegant and classy BL. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. It's a marker of how great it was that it's so high on my list despite the ending which was very much not what I wanted.
Additional accolade, sexiest moment of 2023 - (the oil scene).
You could try to fight me, but you'll have no grip.
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5 Kiseki: Dear to Me
Taiwan Gaga & Viki
The plot is totally ridiculous and slightly unhinged. There’s a gum-ball machine of cameos, elder gay rep, great chemistry from all pairs (everyone is queer), and a KILLER side couple. It involves all the tropes under a very offhand framework of gay mafia gangs + food = love. As a result Kiseki is a poster child for Taiwanese BL, and I happen to love Taiwanese BL. Bonus? They also managed to END IT WELL, which we cannot expect from Taiwan.
Best side couple 2023!
(thank goodness Taiwan made this list!)
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6 Jun and Jun
Korea Viki
A delightful office romance about an ex-idol who joins cubical life only to find his new boss is his first love. With a snappy (sometimes even raunchy) script, enjoyable sides, a pretty as peaches cast, and descent chemistry this show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smiled every moment I was watching.
Best flirting 2023.
AKA "the tongue knows" award
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7 The Eighth Sense
Korea Viki
This one is a bit chewy and sticky and less perfect than most KBLs. It’s got a bit of an age gap, country boy/city boy, stellar acting, complex characters, and leads with great chemistry and tension. This isn’t in the KBL bubble, there’s sharp edges and lots of triggers. For a BL the darkness of the content left me feeling unsettled (which is the only reason it didn't get a perfect score) but it has a glorious ending and that counts for a lot.
2023's most likely to appeal to non-BL watchers.
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8 Unintentional Love Story
Korea iQIYI
The lead, Gongchan (maknae of B1A4) is a fucking GIFT, who carried this show. He was luminous with extraordinarily expressive eyes, which he used to carry a killer plot and challenging role. Forced into a totally understandable betrayal, falling in love despite himself, put into a corner he can't get out of, the AGONY, the eyes EMOTING at us in PAIN. Driven by external conflict, social tension and pressure this story seems simple but it's actually refined and quite complex. I loved this show.
Best story structure 2023.
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9 My Personal Weatherman
AKA Taikan Yoho
Japan Gaga
This is classic yaoi of the kind that really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's high heat is well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" which is exacerbated by the fact that they're already fucking. Sure is sexy tho.
Best use of props 2023 for the shower of sheets.
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10 Our Dining Table
AKA Bokura no Shokutaku
Japan Gaga
Lonely salaryman and talented cook gets accidentally adopted by a college kid and his little brother. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. It's lovely & sweet with the romance beats used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy. Special.
First prize for domesticity.
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11 Laws of Attraction
Thailand iQIYI
This is a great gay suspense thriller with several solid couples, fun plot, killer characters, queer rep, and a happy ending. It’s tons of fun and I had an absolute blast watching it.
Charn wins my favorite character of 2023.
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12 La Pluie
Thailand Viki
This BL takes to task the fated mates trope and what it means to have love chained intimately to predestination. It’s about how faith in destiny before choice diminishes the authenticity of emotion, relationships, and connection. This is a high concept to examine through the lens of a BL. With good chemistry and decent acting all around, plus some excellent high heat and representation of consent and a few other rare tropes, this one has to (like it’s sibling show My Ride) earn high marks.
Most interesting concept 2023.
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13 The New Employee
Korea Viki
So good, SO QUEER, so soft, a near pitch perfect office BL with conflict derived from that setting. Also found family and a lesbian bestie. This is what I wanted from this new crop of office set KBLs ALL ALONG. Rainbow rice cakes forever!
Best overall queer rep from Korea.
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14 Step By Step
Thailand Gaga & YouTube & Viki
This was Thailand’s answer to The New Employee, and everything I loved about that show I loved about this one. This was an office romance between stern boss and sweet subordinate that felt more authentic to an office environment than previous Thai BLs of this ilk which added tension to the narrative and character development.
Chot wins best queer character 2023.
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15 Love Tractor
Korea iQIYI
Most of this country-set BL had me feral for the beautiful broken city boy and his hot young farmer. Hyung romance, puppy/cat pairing, open frankness meets jaded reserve, language play, water hose frolicking, only one bed = all my favorite silly tropes.
Biggest "he so pretty" gasp of the year award.
10 Worst BLs of 2023 (that I watched)
My Blessing
My Universe: Casanova Begins
Boyband the series
Cafe In Love
Chains of Heart
Hit Bite Love
Only Friends
Senior Love Me
The Luminous Solution
The Promise
Yes, you read that right. I know I'm against the flow but I really did not like Only Friends. Everyone's taste is different.
However I DNFed faster and more BL's this year than ever before, so that means my 10 worst probably aren't quite reflective...
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10 Probably Actually Worst BLs (I dropped 'em)
My Story
The Day I Loved You
Beyond the Star
Crazy Handsome Rich
Dinosaur Love
House of Stars
Mr Cinderella 2
Love Bill
Stormy Honeymoon
The Star Always Follow You
Codicils in General
I only carefully track/watch Thailand, Taiwan, Korea, and Japan. Other countries are not fully represented.
My Numbers
So my spreadsheet chronicled 138 BLs that finish airing in 2023.
101 = watched & reviewed
2 = still in the docket (WDYEY2 & Love Syndrome III)
15 = CNF (could not find)
20 = DNF (which also accounts for how few very low scores I handed out in 2023 as opposed to previous years, I just stopped watching). Speaking of which...
Ratings spread
(# of stars. #of BLs given that rating)
0 (see the DNFs instead)
2 - IT'S DEPRESSING they killed the gay, save yourself
7 - I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM WATCHING AND NEITHER DOES IT
7 - FATALLY FLAWED but still basically BL, however… do we want to support this kind of behavior?
9 - WATCH IF YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO but don’t expect much, it’s a total hot mess
17 - WORTH WATCHING BUT FLAWED probably around the ending or in narrative structure/cohesion or censorship
14 - RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS i.e. isn’t quite BL, convoluted, not strictly HEA, too short/long, or chemistry issues
30 - RECOMMENDED some concerns around tropes (like dub con) or story structure but still satisfies as BL
13 - ABSOLUTELY RECOMMENDED probably a few pacing issues or one flaw
2 - HIGHLY RECOMMENDED faithful to tropes, happy ending, good chemistry, few flaws, high rewatch potential
(source)
505 notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 7 months
Text
Jungkook
TERRITORIAL. | Pretty Baby
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Who would've known that the big bad wolf isn't actually all that bad?
Tags/Warnings: Punk!Jungkook, Wolf!Jungkook, Good girl!Reader, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Corruption kink, strangers to crushes to lovers, Fluff, Adult themes
Length: uuuh long idk
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
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Strawberry milk is your favorite.
It's always been a comfort thing for you- just like certain snacks or fabrics make you feel comforted, strawberry milk gives you that little bit of extra braveness at night after work has ended to finally make your way back home into the safety of your apartment.
But tonight, it's a bit different. Tonight, there's a group of vamps outside, clearly trying to agitate the wolves who've been ruling the streets for a while now.
It's not actual gang-behavior. They're not actively fighting or anything, there's never any guns or other violence involved- at least not on the surface. Underground, you're sure this must be a different story- but on the streets, the wolves play the tune everyone else dances to- the vamps only occasionally trying to provoke something, which never actually happens.
But that doesn't mean it won't tonight. Maybe tonight's the night it'll escalate.
And on nights like this, you sometimes feel like moving into the big city was a big mistake too, because this seems so normal to everyone else around you.
Back home in your little town, there wasn't anything like this at night. People would go to bed at reasonable times, you'd know every neighbor by name and house number, and you never had to fear going home alone. But here, things are different. Here, things are a lot more dangerous, especially as nothing but a human with no connection to either group.
You kind of want to stay neutral- even if, deep down, you feel more drawn towards the wolves with their more laid back approach to life.
Outside the small convenience store, you throw away the empty bottle of strawberry milk, before you reluctantly make a few steps- looks from a few vampires immediately making you retreat however, pulling out your phone to appear occupied. You can hear them snickering amongst each other already, laughing and talking, making comments about you.
You can't do this, fuck that.
You look around a little, when you notice someone from the nearby wolves looking back at you- a young man, golden eyes a tell-tale sign of what he is, as he sits on his bike that's perched up on it's kickstand. He's watching you, but not in an intimidating way- he's more so calculating it seems like, scanning the situation before he looks towards a friend nearby, who nods, some others nodding as well as they move closer.
He's got his hands in the pockets of his jacket, beanie hiding the slightly faded blue-ish strands of hair. Everyone of the tiny group appears relaxed and non-threatening. But there's a certain confidence in them that intimidates you a little as they walk closer.
That is, until he smiles at you-
and his black tail behind him wags, swaying from side to side.
"Alright guys, can we make some space here for the lady to pass through?" He asks towards the group of Vamps, who laugh, before they reluctantly make space for you to walk. The young man carefully moves to walk a little behind you, the other's shielding you just as much on the side that's turned towards the blood-dependent human variants. It just confirms to you that yeah, you're definitely more drawn towards wolves.
"There we go. Is your home far?" The young wolf asks, still keeping a respectful distance towards you.
"Uh.. no, not really." You deny, and he nods. "Thanks, by the way." You bow to him and his friends politely, everyone just waving it off- though you can see all their tails swaying a little. It's honestly.. cute, if they didn't all look like they could probably break your neck at a moment's notice.
But they don't. Instead, they all agree to your request to walk home now by yourself, and let you go-
though you can feel one person's eyes on you for a little longer, and when you turn around, he smiles that smile again.
A smile that's just.. genuine.
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You meet him again the day after at the convenience store, though he's sporting a fresh scratch on the top of his cheekbone. He doesn't seem to be in too much pain as he spots you however, having just bought your typical strawberry courage to go home tonight. "Do you always work this long?" He wonders, and you nod, sitting down next to him at the narrow table at the windows of the small store. He's been eating something, bowl now empty though, faint redness on his lips the last remnant of his meal.
"What happened?" You ask, pointing to your own cheek, when he seems surprised, touching his own before hissing at the sting. "No don't touch it-" You whine, before you look for something in your bag, opening another, smaller, makeup bag. "here- or... do you want me to help?" You wonder, making him nod and lean forward with a faint smile on his lips, hands holding onto the chair he's sitting on between his legs as he closes his eyes so you don't feel watched.
As you clean up the scratch and put a bandaid on, you kind of have to think about the fact that he seems awfully.. less threatening than you thought he'd be, considering he's a wolf from the big city. But maybe the one's you know from the smaller towns are just.. a little too full of themselves, pride getting the best of them.
"Oh-" You suddenly say, noticing the little cartoon fish on the bandaid you just placed on his cheek.
"What, 'oh'?" He wonders back, and you hold out another bandaid to him so he can take a look.
"I'm sorry, I didn't- I forgot I only have those…" You mumble a bit caught off guard by your own actions. But he just laughs, giving it back to you with a smile and shake of his head.
"It's fine- they're cute!" He simply shrugs, not bothered by it at all. "Thanks." He offers, tail swaying behind him. "So- can I ask what you work as?" He wonders, and you nod, putting your stuff back into your bag.
"Just data management. It's pretty boring." You shrug to yourself. "But I can work by myself and I like that." You explain, zipping your bag shut before you look at him again. "Although.. I might have to get myself maybe a dog, when I go home at night. A big, scary looking one you know? But they've got to be nice so I can bring them into the office with me.." You mumble, drinking the last of your milk as he turns his body to face more openly to you again, a playful smirk on his lips.
"How about I'll be your big bad dog then, huh?" He flirts, tail swinging side to side behind him. "Though I'm probably not allowed in the office.." He laughs, especially when you roll your eyes and still smile at his joking attempt at flirting. It was a joke.. right?
"Ha-ha." You say because of that, though he just widens his eyes, feigning innocence.
"Hey I'm serious!" He offers, leaning a bit closer. "I could take you home every night- and if I can't, someone of my pack could do the job instead."
"I- I'm probably not even gonna stay in the city for too long." You sigh, playing with the fluffy pom-pom ball attached to your bag. "I don't like it here very much.. it's too.. I don't know. I don't belong here.." You mumble.
"Maybe you've simply not seen the good parts of the city." He shrugs. "I could show you some."
"And by some you mean your bedroom?" You sigh, looking at him with a bit of an attitude- and he can't help but be intrigued by that little hint of spice you seem to have, underneath your pretty visuals and rather introverted appearance.
"If you'd like to visit, the door's always open for a pretty girl like you." he purrs, and at that, you clearly turn shy. "..And I don't ever open that door for anyone but myself, typically." He adds on, and at that, you look back at him, searching for the deeper meaning of that statement-
and you seem to find it, in the warmth of his eyes and the slight redness to his ears.
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"Have you ever been a backpack before?" Jungkook asks, as he waits outside of your apartment, one helmet on his bike and the other in his hand.
"Uh.. no-" you say, honestly never having heard the phrase.
"Would you like to try?" He asks, motioning towards his bike, holding out the helmet. "Got this one from a packmate. Should fit you." He says, black and grey tail wagging as you take it somewhat reluctantly. "And I'll drive extra careful too." He says, helping you put on the helmet properly before his hands adjust the strap under your chin.
"What if I fall off?" You worry, but he just laughs, putting on his own helmet. You notice that his hair seems freshly dyed- nor black.
"Not if you hold on to me." He explains, sitting on the bike after putting up the kickstand. "Hop on- I'll keep it stable." He reassures you, as you somewhat awkwardly climb onto the back of his bike. Only when his hands pull yours around his middle do you notice he's only really keeping you both and the bike stable with his feet alone.
And it makes you wonder how strong he might be.
"There we go. You'll figure things out as we go, trust me." He chuckles, small speakers in his head connected to his own too so you can talk properly. "Good to go?" Be asks, and you nod-
That is until his bike roars to life, and you instinctively cling onto him for dear life as he turns to drive off onto the main road.
He laughs. You're not sure what's so funny.
"Oh look at Jungkookies new passenger princess!" Someone jokes suddenly over the speaker, and you look around just to find three people on bikes as well at the same red light.
"Nervous?" Another voice asks, and Jungkook growls a little in front of you.
"You're making her nervous, hyung!" He complains, making the stranger's laugh. "Don't worry, they just want to mess with me.." he mumbles towards you, hand squeezing yours for a little in comfort.
"Yeah of course, after all Jungkook's finally all grown up!" The first voice laughs. "Finally up for an actual relationship now, fuckboy?" He asks, and at that, you grow a bit nervous.
Fuckboy? Relationship?
Just who is Jungkook really? You've got no idea. Sure, you've texted over the past few days, but you basically know nothing about him. He could just try and get into your pants, maybe that's his whole thing- maybe he likes them innocent and stupid to have a quick fuck and then drop them again. With looks like his that must be easy.
You're easy.
"Please don't listen to them, they're just assholes-" He tries to explain as the light finally turns green, but you're quiet, and Jungkook has a feeling that something's wrong. "You okay?" He asks occasionally, but you just nod and move on, not really up for talking anymore. He just wants to screw you anyways. Maybe he really is just a big city wolf down the line.
The scenery is nice, but you don't really feel like enjoying it too much as you just want to go home right away again. It's something you do- you hide from things, because confrontation just ends in you being at fault all the time. And maybe, this time, you are at fault.
You shouldn't just trust someone like that. You both barely know each other.
He parks at a gas station, turning off his bike in a more secluded parking area, before he takes off his helmet, and helps you take off yours too.
"What's wrong?" He asks, hair a bit wild, but eyes serious as they look at you, reflecting the light from the neon signs a little like mirrors.
"Nothing." You shrug, avoiding eye contact.
"He was just messing with me. They're always like that-" he tries to explain, and as you sigh, he knows that that's exactly what must've set you off. "Listen, I won't stand here and tell you I'm a church-going virgin because I'm not. Yeah, I fucked around, because sex is fun to me." He shrugs, and you're caught off guard at how boldly he says that. "But that doesn't mean I can't take things seriously." He offers, finally catching your gaze again. "And I want to take.. you seriously." He offers you, but you're not sure.
"...why?" You wonder. "Cause I'm pretty and innocent?" You jab at him. "Cause I'm the small town girl you can corrupt and then drop after you finally got into my pants?" You accuse. "Sucks to be you, I'm not a virgin anymore. I've had sex already, and for me it's not fun." You deny, crossing your arms almost defensively, though you quickly move your hands back on the bike as it moves slightly the moment he sits on it again, facing you however.
"I don't care about that." He tells you. "I won't lie that the corruption part isn't something appealing to me-" he chuckles, as he tests the waters, hands on your thighs not moving, just resting on the tops of them. "-But I'm not dropping you, if you ever let me have you." He purrs.
"What if I'm not ever letting you have me?" You respond, trying to act tough so he won't think you're easy.
"Then that's your choice." He nods.
"So if I say no right now, you'll leave me alone?" You ask.
"Depends on what you say no to." He shrugs leaning back a little, your legs feeling cold without his hands on them. "No to sex? Alright, we won't fuck then." He explains. "No to being with me? Cool, we'll just stay friends then." He goes on.
"No to me entirely?" He offers, eyes unreadable. "I'll accept that, and back off."
"That easy?" You ask a little caught off guard, and he nods. "So you're.. huh." You mumble to yourself, defeated. So he's not even up to put any effort in you. That's slightly disappointing, and honestly makes you feel a little ashamed even.
"So what is it?" He asks, and you shrug.
"I don't know." You answer honestly.
"Then how about I'll work for it?" He smirks, and you look at him now. "Let me take you out. Let's go on dates, I can take you to pack meet-up's so you can get to know those assholes better, hell, I'll even have you meet my mom if you want!" He excitedly proposes to you, tail wagging, hitting his bike occasionally. "Just- you seem really cool. Exactly what I've been searching for." He explains a bit softer now. "Let's try.. okay?" He asks.
"... okay." You answer, and at that his lips turn, part in a happy grin, before he gets up from the bike and punches the air once in his excitement before he returns.
"Okay!" He giggles to himself, helping you back into your helmet. "I know an awesome place to get some food-" he instantly rambles, kicking up the stand for his bike again before he drives off with you-
Eager to show you that he's the one for you.
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1K notes · View notes
nisuna · 5 months
Note
Dubcon? Reader is blindfolded and restrained to a bed and the only way they’ll be released is if they can guess which one of the anemo boys tongues is eating them out (anemo boys take turns eating reader out) ☺️
Uuuuhhh yaay a Genshin one >×<
Anemo boys have my heart especially (my C3😏) Kazuha 🥰
Thank you for your take!!<3
~short drabble~
You didn't know why you agreed to this. Who would let themselves get blindfolded and bound to bed with the task of guessing who was eating them out. Uh, you of course! (And Kazuha sweet talking you into it. Darn him.)
Venti was first and he did surprisingly well, but he was an old Archon after all, so he must've gotten it back in the day, right! He started off slow, easing his fingers into you and kitten-licking your clit. After a while he sped up and switched to sucking and slightly nipping on your clit. Surprise, surprise he made you cum on his face in record time.
Mext was Scara, oh no. He'd definitely be mean. Making you look at him between your legs while he kept avoiding your clit completely and only finger fucking you. "Keep them spread like that or you won't be cumming tonight." Oh, and of course he'd edge you. The sadist in him stayed even though he changed his identity. He'd blow on your core making you clench around nothing making you whine and calling you pathetic afterwards. :( He was kind enough to let you cum in the end, but with a lot of begging and namecalling involved.
Kazuha was a heavenly sent aber the last one. He was kind and kept talking you through it asking if you felt good and praising you for taking his finger so well. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, making your back arch from the bed and your toes curl. He put your legs over his shoulders, alternating between nipping at your soft thighs and your throbbing clit. You never wanted this to end to say the least. On top of making you feel so good his touch made you all fuzzy inside, caging his face between your legs and slightly rutting your hips against his tongue. And this angel let you do it! You were in pure bliss as soon as he made you cream all over his fingers and tongue. He even cleaned you with his tongue almost pushing you over the edge again. But there was still more cum!
Next was Heizou. He was definitely a little tease, but not as bad as Scara. He knew how to work you open alternating between sinking his fingers in your wet heat and and occasionally dipping his tongue in, making sure to pay attention to your clit at all times. Either with his fingers or tongue. He read somewhere about writing the alphabet with your tongue while eating someone out, because it made the pattern random. God did that work. He kept spelling different words with his tongue against your clit making you squirm, only for him to put his arm around your tummy to stop you from running away. He definitely made you cum hard.
"Here, you can hold onto my hair." Oh Xiao. Behind his stoic exterior he was defintely very shy not exactly knowing what to do. But he gained some confidence after watching the other guys attentively. So he basically made out with your cunt slurping loudly trying to fit in as many fingers as possible. Making you gasp and almost lose your breath. He felt a bit clumsy but when he heard you call his name and pull on his hair he went Conqueror of Demons mode, folding you in half and almost eating you alive. Your tiny mewls spurring him on and making you cum so suddenly it knocked the air out of you. Suffice to say he did a good job for his alleged first time.
Bonus Aether. Definitely not as experienced and very shy so he just made you ride his face and do your own thing. It was a nice change and stark contrast to the other guys.
So how's your score looking did you manage to guess everyone? Yes and No. You were too fucked out to form a coherent sentence and almost missed one of them whispering if they should play the guessing game again. But this time you'd have to guess who's fucking you. Oh boy, it's going to be a long night.
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