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#i don't know how to tag this but it just makes my brain happy
silky-silksong · 1 day
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Okay can I talk?
eric belonging to @night-light-artz
Patches @eve-pie
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Okay for the image above I was doing a “mock” warrior cat book. I miss the old covers but anyway
I kinda feel my art is…boring. I mean it just feels that way. Sometimes I feel I rush myself to get things done, and to be honest I hate having to rush myself. I look back at my recent post and they just fall FLAT. Flat as in the colors are just boring as heck. Lineart? I don’t really like. Not only that but everything feels so unpolished
My anatomy/details
I hate the fact I miss crucial details of my chat starts or even other people characters. I mean, HAVE YOU SEEN HOW I DONT EVEN ADD SILKY’s ANTLERS 99% of the time? That bothers me. And I see other people add them and I’m just “well damn I’m so lazy I can’t even add antlers on my own fucking character”.
Not to mention the poses. Everything feels so stiff with me. So dang stiff that you may as well call my art wood and use it as a support beam. I hate how I don’t use references for my art. Maybe If I used them more and actually took my time stuff wouldn't look like your average horrific Netflix Original cartoon of some movie.
Backgrounds/minor objects.
Do not get me started. I hate all of them. They look so low effort. I mean, I know I can do better with them! But it seems like I worry about the main characters so much. In fact, I feel the background just falls flat or blends in too much with the characters that it looks. Messy. If I draw a cup, i'll skip over details and it will look awful! Which isnt good, as it shows im lacking severly.
Time
And for time I rush. I feel like I have to literally push things out by day’s end and well…it affects my art. Lately o just been so focus on the hour and time it just makes the art suffer. Even if no one else sees it I do. I love my painted style, but it takes quite some time. And forgive me but I hate just doing sketches to and posting it. I prefer my art to be colored in and all the way. Now im not saying i dont like it when other people sketch. That would be a dick-head move of me.
Some days I fear if I don’t post or read inboxes everyone is going to think I purely abandoned them. I try to focus on my page. but just giving them a sketch at the end well...it makes me feel as if I just dissapointed them. I think to myself and say "I could have done better than that. Why did you even do that in the first place {Name}. "
I have like so much on my agenda and plans and then i realize I can’t do it all in one day. Hell sometimes I just make one day spefically on one subject.
If that day was animation day; I focus on an animatic.
If a certain day is art day and I want to set up my commission page (which is so messy I deleted it) then that’s the settled day. But I feel like I’m going so slow. It's like I am running out of time, and time is just passing by as I look at my clock.
And I'm not blaming anyone it's just my stupid head that makes me feel this way. I know no one is trying to rush me. But head is like "Oh but what if- and why not-". It bothers me. It clouds my vision and i don't realize in reality...no one is saying the things my brain is saying. Sometimes I feel like I'm bothering people when i draw their charcaters so much and tag them. I fear they just say 'Aw great it's this one person again."Sometimes I feel I need to be MORE original. And some days i feel i just need to give up entirely. Some days I think posting everyday will aggervate folks. Sometimes I envy the attention of others, and when I see what they gain or what following I have i look back at myself and say "Well maybe if you did this better than MAYBE you people will be interested in ya". And damn do i slam my head in a wall. Everyone just seems so happy, and yet here I am fretting over if this fucking dog I drew looks remotely interesting. And I just feel it...blends in. Like what is there so special about my art?
MY BLOG
And for this blog, I don't know if I truly have an identity for myself. There's Silky, there is Minty and Syrup, there is Simon and there is Shrimpy. But who do they belong to? What roles do they even serve in this blog? I want them to be my identity. I don't want them being just some sort of character leech. They lack story, they lack purpose, they are thrown in tropes and gag. But what do they relate to? Nothing. Nothing at all. And yeah yeah I know im thinking to DEEP into this. But it's been on my mind so much. And hell call me crazy for talking about them if they are real, but they mean a lot to me. A LOT.
So I tried to make my art interesting here like, i tried referencing images space. I tried adding more anatomy to Snowy since I am tired of doing the usual standing up pose. I even wanted to make the background feel more detailed. I feel a bit better, but I still fear everything is too...eh...bland. Maybe it is just me.
Sorry for the ungodly word of text. I know I shouldn't vent here.
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eissaphir · 8 months
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So we've seen Crowley hiding goats against Hell's direct orders so they could live.
And we've seen Crowley yelling at people for feeding bread to ducks bc it's bad for them and that they should be given frozen peas instead.
I'm not saying that Crowley would adopt every stray animal he sees BUT—
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im going to cry this is actually healing me
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stereax · 14 days
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woohoo spiraling out of control right now (what else is new really I've been fucked up and spiraling for weeks now) and trying to figure out reasons not to delete my tumblr and discord and myself along the way
but you know. talking about myself on my blog automatically means I'm attention seeking and fishing for pity right? should just shut up and stick to the news eh, it's all I'm good for :D
anyway if you need me I'll be in the corner reliving the past, coming to terms with reality, and trying to convince myself I'm not the problem despite every indication to the contrary ✌︎︎
#sterechats :)#09:58 pm - this is a bad idea but scheduling it anyway#what's the worst that can happen really? everyone leaves again? nobody talks to me again?#probably gonna delete this in the morning so. meh. not like it matters not like I matter :D#10:29 pm - wow it feels like my head is on fire#like my brain is actually burning and I can't do a damn thing about it#I should be happy right now! the devils are winning! my favorite guys are scoring!#but no! I'm barely keeping it together around my family and praying I don't wake up tomorrow <3#11:00 pm - I need to get out of here#I need to get out of here out of here out of here I can't stay here any more this is killing me#everyone hates me and I need to chew my arms open maybe then everything will make sense#why am I even writing these tags what does it matter#I was so much more in control of myself when I was sh-ing#maybe I should get back to that maybe it'll help I don't know anymore#I just want my friends back but they hate me hahahaha#11:24 pm - wonder how many people are gonna block me after this one#how many people will finally be fed up and leave for good#everyone leaves and I should be used to this by now#here's a truck stop instead of saint peter's (yeah yeah yeah yeah)#11:41 pm - it's friday afternoon/there goes antigone to be buried alive#in the next world I want to be something useful/like a staple gun/or in love#I would fall off a cliff for you/a thousand times and call it a good day#maybe I'm just incapable of being human! maybe that's it!#maybe I'm not even human at all... but something worse instead...#1:22 am - moving the posting of this back from 3 to 6 am#not that that matters and not that I matter but I don't think I'll sleep#and I don't want this to post when I'm awake#I know I'm just going to get unfollowed and blocked and left behind as always#because happiness and good things and friendships just aren't things I get to have really#I just wish people would stop lying and telling me they're different and they'll stay when they're not different and won't stay
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singsweetmelodies · 1 year
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i get so much joy when i see you on my dash and you have basically written an academic essay on piarles in some random post's tags. like, actually the best part of opening tumblr is seeing you on my dash and reading your tags. i have loved the routine of reading them for a while now, thought i should tell you that i really appreciate and love them. have a lovely day katie! 🌸🌼💐🌻🎄
oh my gosh this is THE sweetest thing ever, ahhhh 🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰 part of your routine!! CRY. something something about screaming into the void but suddenly it means everything when other people read it & appreciate it too 💜 hugging you tight and kissing your forehead, actually. thank you so much for validating me in the best way possible, ahhhh 😍 <3333 and i hope you have a wonderful day too! 🥰❤️
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gazelessmenagerie · 1 year
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Where can we learn more about Sachipa?
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( It’s not much and its pretty much only DBZ AU but here. if it wasn’t already read. I can’t say I have much more just bc I’m still trying to figure out his entire shtick bc this was all just a mishmash of me playing through the story of xenoverse 2 and I had the funny idea to try and bring my OC, Gabriel Na’ashdoitsoh into it. )
( He was originally just a fandomless oc I made up back in 2012 and I just kept dabbling with him without really committing to his story or anything. But upon looking at a painting in my home, i got inspired to make him a personification of the universe with his dust manipulation abilities. *mary sue cringe fanfare* )
( I never got much further than that bc idk what story to give him but he’s been hanging around at the edges till I just decided to try and do some dbz au bc xenoverse was easy to work into and I thought him being a Saiyan would be funny and sad bc of how his personality is to avoid fights up till he can’t afford to anymore. Granted, he doesn’t have nearly as much power in that way as he does being the Universe in creation and destruction. )
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medicinemane · 24 hours
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The problem with people who are "right" because they insist they're right, and the only way to be right is to simply perfectly follow their every dictation on the subject unquestioningly is this...
Ok, let's just take it as a given that you're right... the problem here is that if that's what's right I'm afraid I have to dig my heels into being wrong. If you are as righteous and just as you insist you are then I've got no choice but to be the villain because I can't stand what you're saying I'd have to do to be good
Shockingly I even think it's wrong, which is odd because we've already defined it that you're inherently and unassailably right... yet here we are
Worst part is there's a lot of these things where I'm not even full stop against it, I actually might be on their side if they could stop and address a couple of issues I consider kind of important... but they won't, because they're morally right and don't have time for addressing nonexistent issues I'm clearly just dreaming up
Undoubtedly right they are, the defect must surely be my own... and yet here we are. Vile and wicked as it might make me, I still can't just go along with you
#mm tag so i can find things later#and whatever you think this is about and however you've already decided it agrees with you#I'll say this is about like... minimum 2 topics at very different points in the political spectrum... and probably like 20 easy#so like... it may well be talking about your own behavior on certain subjects#I'm talking about not even being willing to entertain good faith questions#and especially about labeling anyone who doesn't tow your exact party line a horrible person#...the amount of shit where it's like 'you know I actually agree with you... except for this one major sticking point'#'just tell me how we deal with this one pretty big thing and I'm fully on board' and... well actually you're terrible for that#or the amount of places where it's like I agree with your goals; but not your methods but... I don't think arguing would do a damn thing#you've already dug your heels in so deep and maybe you're even right to do it.. but I'll never go along with it no matter what that makes m#and the number of overall good people I know who this post is honestly about#they may well be far better than I am; I've never claimed to be good; quite the opposite#and yet I'm afraid I have to say that... to me you're wrong; wrong in concrete ways#maybe you could even address my concerns and help me see with my stupid brain why these aren't issues... but you won't#because you're right; and you know you're right; and so you'll never be wrong#and this isn't just some idle whataboutism... or maybe it is; I'll never say I'm the moral arbiter; again I could be wickedly wrong#and there's a variety of reasons someone believes what they believe; but... there's often blind dogma at the end#I may be stupid; but I can usually draw a line from my stance to something in the world#maybe it's a stupid nonsense line and I don't see my mental gymnastics... very well could be#but I can draw a line... it's not just circular logic; it's not just bouncing between two points#and I often can actually point to places I'm not happy with how things are or will be... we live in the real world and that sucks#example that... man it's more politically charged than I like getting; but ok#I really want this Ukrainian aid to pass even though I don't like the Israeli aid attached... but I get that's the only way it's passing#I want the Ukraine aid because I see residential houses getting stuck by missiles; but I don't want the Israeli aid for the same reason#and it comes down to that I think that the aid amount is sufficiently higher to Ukraine to make it enough of a net positive#I could be wrong... but you can at least see my work; I'm coming at it from a perspective of bombing civilians is wrong#I could be stupid; I could point to two people I know on here who would tell me I'm stupid for at least one part of this... probably all#yet there it is... and... it'll be hard to convince me otherwise
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neverendingford · 8 months
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#tag talk#okay I think one of the things I love most about the specific kind of furry art that I follow is that so much of it involves big smiles.#the pieces that make my brain light up and buzz are often the ones with characters unabashedly grinning#even pieces that feel a little samey and unoriginal are easily redeemed by a character shamelessly smiling happily#people don't smile enough. somehow I'm usually considered an outlier with how much I smile#sometimes if I've been having a bad couple of weeks when I bounce back my face will hurt with how much I smile because the muscles are stiff#but like. people need to smile more. I remember in high school I deliberately worked on finding beauty in everything.#worked on seeing people and thinking nice things about them. Wishing well for them.#idk if I just fell into my natural tendency or managed to psychology myself while at my most vulnerable. but either way it worked for me#anyway. peace and love and happiness on planet earth because we all have the ability to smile lovingly at people we don't even know#we have the ability to be patient when people get embarrassed at mistakes they make. the ability to forgive when someone accidentally hurts#but don't ever forget the ability to stare coldly and harshly into the eyes of a malicious asshole who knows they're being rude and mean.#that's a very important skill to hold onto#if we're made in a god's image then surely we should remember that we have the capacity to destroy malicious people same as it can#but the world grows on connection. we build up using love. and would you not rather be happy? I know I would
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angelltheninth · 5 months
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Would you ever expand on Sukuna as a pornstar? Sorry I can't stop thinking about it after you mentioned in in you Yuuji fic.
Me too Anon, me too. I'm happy to write more about this au.
Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, porn work, filmed, mutual masturbation, power play, marking, possessive sex
A/N: If you ever want to ask me questions about my fics/headcanons feel free to send them in my inbox, I'm always happy to talk to you guys.
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Pornstar!Sukuna only does the really kinky movies, or the ones where he can be really rough. That's his style, that's what everyone wants to see him in, it's what he likes as well. He's been offered other roles before but has turned most of them down, it's not that he couldn't do it but he wants to be proud of what he films.
Pornstar!Sukuna has no problem telling people what he does for a living as he sees no shame in it. If someone tries to make fun of him for it he'll just direct them to one of his movies and dare them to make a woman come harder then he did.
Pornstar!Sukuna never wants you to fake your orgasm for the sake of the camera. Rest assured that with him you'll never need to either, he will make you come multiple times or else he didn't do his job properly. You better not try to fake it with him, if you do he'll switch things up and give you a real one, so hard, so good that you will actually pass out.
Pornstar!Sukuna wants you to keep your attention on him while you're doing a scene with him. Don't look at the camera, at anyone else, only at him. He's the one fucking you, his cock is inside of you, pounding hard at your insides and making your pussy feel better then any other co-star. So look at him, he wants to see the exact moment you come on his cock.
Pornstar!Sukuna loves leaving mark on you, ones that can't be covered up that easily. That way if you shoot a porno with someone else they'll know you've been with him before, they'll know they won't measure up and that the one you're thinking of the whole time is him.
Pornstar!Sukuna acted in a lot of roles that have him in the position of power. When he has roles like that he asks for you to be his co-star because according to him you follow his orders so naturally, it's just easier with you. The lines come out so easily for you both, him telling you what to do, you begging for more, calling him sir, boss, daddy, anything he wants.
Pornstar!Sukuna only masturbates to the movies you're in with him. It's how he gets ready for the next scene, the next role. Or the better alternative, having you there to masturbate with him. In secret of course cause the two of you are trying to keep things professional but when you spend so much time on screen together, fucking as much as you do, with that much chemistry it bleed over to your everyday life as well.
Pornstar!Sukuna fucks your brains out if you had a scene with someone else. He doesn't care who it was, if he was in the movie too or not but he won't just let someone fuck you when he didn't get to. No jealousy doesn't suit him well in his line of work, he is very aware of that but he can't help himself, he wants to make you come over and over, for every orgasm you've had with someone else he gives you a better one.
Pornstar!Sukuna shows off in front of the camera, not for anyone but himself. He can see everyone watching him fuck, almost mesmerizes by him, it feeds his already inflated ego like nothing else in the world. When he pulls out and his cock is still hard he's reeling to move onto the next scene, eager to show how much stamina he has.
Pornstar!Sukuna always brings the best refreshments to perk you up after filming is over. You eat them in his changing room where you can wind down and even cuddle with him if you want. But don't tell anyone, you know the kind of reputation he as around here, he has to keep it. But that doesn't mean he won't spoil his favorite co-star.
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i23kazu · 5 months
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GENSHIN MEN & YOU USING THEM AS A BODY PILLOW .
characters. wriothesley scara x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. this is so tiney im so sorry anon but this is all my brain can handle rn ueueuueue. i hope this is okay :"))))) . | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
wriothesley
wriothesley actually doesn't mind being your body pillow...
i mean. you're comfortable. he's comfortable
everybody wins!
but also sometimes you squeeze him really hard and he freezes up because how are you so STRONG. like what the hell
(secretly he thinks of you picking him up like that. ough)
wriothesley doesn't actually have the heart to tell you to move aside.
how can he, when you look like such an angel wrapped around his waist? bathroom and bladder control be damned.
it's like having a cat on your lap. rule number one: never move from your spot if you're the chosen one. congratulations. you're bound to the couch forever
when you wake up, though ... wriothesley has fallen asleep. now it's your turn to not move. you're the body pillow now. hehe.
scara
grumpy cat. gruuuuumpy cat
okay i feel like maybe i push the scara hates things agenda a lot. i don't actually think scara hates this... when he knows that it makes you happy, he's willing to sacrifice his back just for you
maybe at the most he acts as if he's reluctant. dont let it fool you though – he's warm to the touch and actually a relatively good cuddler.
please don't be fooled! he might warm up to the idea sooner or later
it really is a win though, please keep convincing him. he gets cuddles, you get cuddles, and he doesn't even have to ask for it! no more convincing himself that he's fine and doesn't need that
especially when you initiate it. just keep doing it – watch as he slowly inches closer towards you. maybe he even tries to put his arm on your waist, stroking it with his thumb. just maybe.
and maybe, you're the one who allows him to open up to physical affection.
taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz @rin-nyrasti-writes (send ask/comment to be added to taglist) plus birthday tag!! @catcze hope u like the wriothesley part, pls cuddle himmmm
reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this and would like to support me, please consider dropping me a follow as well :-) they all go a long way!
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viennakarma · 11 days
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My dearest friend and enemy
Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.
Word count: 7.8k
Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)
I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]
Find me on Twitter!
You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.
You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.
“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.
“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.
The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.
He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.
“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.
After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.
“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”
“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.
“Are you sure?” You asked again.
“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.
“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.
“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”
“You know?” You whispered.
“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”
You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.
From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.
You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.
That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.
“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.
You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.
The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.
“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”
You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.
“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”
“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.
“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”
He laughed it off.
Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips. 
“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.
“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.
“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”
“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head. 
At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.
“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.
“Like to what?” He frowned.
“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.
Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.
“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”
“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”
He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.
“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.
“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.
You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.
“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.
“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”
A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.
“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.
“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.
“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.
Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.
You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.
“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”
“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.
“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”
“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”
That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.
Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed. 
You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.
He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.
“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”
He only laughed at your happy ramble.
You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.
“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.
“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you. 
Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.
“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.
“Hm?”
“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.
“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.
“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.
“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”
You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.
“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”
Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.
The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.
“Nano!” You hugged him.
“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.
“You came.”
“You called.”
Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.
You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.
Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.
“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.
“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.
“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”
You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.
When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.
During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.
Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.
“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.
And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.
So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.
That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.
He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.
“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.
“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.
“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.
Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.
That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.
You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.
“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.
“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.
“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”
It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.
“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.
“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.
“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.
“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.
When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.
“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.
“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.
“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.
“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.
After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.
When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.
Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.
When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.
He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.
Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.
You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.
“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.
“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.
“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”
The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.
“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”
“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”
His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.
“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.
“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.
After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.
“Nena…”
“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.
“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.
“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”
“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”
“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”
You walked past him, leaving at once.
That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.
“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.
He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.
“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.
“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”
Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.
He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.
“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”
His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.
“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.
You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party. 
Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.
You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.
“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”
You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.
“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered, 
“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”
“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.
You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.
Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.
The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.
All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.
Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.
“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”
You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.
“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.
“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.
“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.
There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.
When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.
“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.
“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”
“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.
You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you. 
“Fernando, please-”
“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.
“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.
You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.
Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.
“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.
“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”
You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.
“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.
“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.
“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.
Shame and jealousy burned inside you.
He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.
You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.
“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”
You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.
The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.
“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.
“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”
“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.
“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.
“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.
Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.
You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.
“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.
“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”
You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.
It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.
“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.
“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.
“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”
“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.
“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”
“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”
Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.
“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.
“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.
“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.
“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”
“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”
“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”
“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.
“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.
You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.
“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.
“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.
“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.
“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.
“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.
“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”
You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.
You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.
“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”
Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.
They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.
“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.
“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.
“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”
“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”
“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”
So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.
You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.
You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.
It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.
So you had to prove Fernando wrong.
NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!
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andersonlore · 5 days
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whats hers is mine | abby anderson
tags: eighteen+, wlw, sexual content, gf’s roommate!abby, toxic!abby, cheating (don't go cheating on your partners this is for fantasy purposes babe), abby fr is menance in this.
an. yeah! i was horny so...this literally came out of my brain so smoothly. do i hate it? yes. but am i still going to post it nd fight my brain telling me not to? yeah! happy reading my h*rny pals.
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abby being your girlfriend’s roommate who you harbor a slight attraction towards. it’s nothing big, you have this under control, or at least it’s what you tell yourself. she’s hot, gorgeous, so incredibly muscular it makes you see stars. it tears you apart thinking of all the ways her strength could make you submit to her will.
make you hers.
fuck. but you have a girlfriend.
it’s a reminder you have to repeat over in your mind anytime you catch yourself being too flirty with her, but then she gives it to you right back. now, every night you dream of her milky skin, stunning blues looking right at you, and those soft lips caressing every inch of your skin, leaving marks in their path as abby stakes her claim. yet, you wake up with your girlfriend’s arm around you with your chest feeling warm at the fantasy of someone else. you have to avoid abby before you do something completely idiotic.
yet, she’s the first one to make the first move.
abby knows you’ve been avoiding her like the plague, so when she’s presented with a perfect opportunity, the conflict at hand is met with absolutely no resistance.
“abby, you’ve blocked my car in. can you move yours?” you ask through the shut door. she gives you a soft yes and when you’re two seconds from walking downstairs to meet her in the driveway.
she opens the fucking bathroom door.
water drips down sunkissed freckled skin, glistening from the shower she obviously took. her blonde hair darker than usual, falling down her back. the smirk there is vile, begging you to look further than her blue eyes.
with the way abby is looking at you, there’s no fucking way she doesn’t want it. clearly, she’s more patient than most, waiting for you to drop the eye contact.
“well?” abby lifts her left eyebrows, cocking her head to the side as she waits for you to react, crumble, cry. you’re not sure what exactly she’s looking for. the confidence radiating from her is irritating just as it is enticing.
when you shake your head silently, repeatedly too, the tall blonde takes a one step forward, the pad of her thumb places pressure on your chin, guiding your gaze where she wants. happily, you comply.
jesus fucking christ, you’d fully believe she was made just for you if someone told you.
the auburn towel is secured around hips loosely, her toned abdomen on full display, her small breasts sit beautifully, nipples hardened from the cool air. it’s not fair how fucking perfect she looks. there’s not a damn thing you want more than to wrap your lips around her pink nipples and suck.
“now, are you going to stop pretending you don’t want to fuck me, baby?” abby taunts, her voice light and airy but it shoots right to your core.
“i-i, abby, this is wrong we shouldn’t be doing this. you need to get dressed.” you try to great some distance but abby pulls you towards her as you enter the bathroom with her, left arm shutting the door as she locks it.
“mhm, you’ve been dating for what? two months? don’t be stupid baby, think with that pretty pussy of yours. know she wants me and you do too, babygirl.” abby grabs your hand placing it on her towel, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.
“you can take it off if you want. do you wanna see my pussy baby?”
shit.
your fingertip plays with the fibers, before you can process what you’re doing, it’s unraveling off her strong hips exposing more of her built physique for your greedy eyes. quads are flexing as you take her in, the muscle rippling as you feast on her.
you have never been so truly and royally fucked.
meticulously, she removes each piece of clothing you’re wearing as her lips attack your own. as if she’s been planning this moment since she laid eyes on you. she bends you over the sink, your pretty ass in the air for her and her fingers smooth over your delectable cunt, enjoying the inconsistent twitching your taut body provides.
“now, be a good girl for me and let me fuck my baby, yeah? ‘m gonna fuck you better than she ever would.”
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reblogs are appreciated! ♡
DO NOT BUY TLOU, FUCK NEIL DRUCKMANN + EDUCATE YOURSELF + DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE + DONATE TO PALESTINE.
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moonlight1110 · 26 days
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Fanboy
Ghost x p⋆rnstar!reader ; roomates!au
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Tags: afab!reader, piv, smut, vaginal sex, mentions of masturbation, porn, and sex work, mirror kink kinda, far from canon simon, i write with badjhur's voice in my ear, roomates to...?, not so secret life, simon has a little crush
Notes: I don't know how onlyfans works 🧍
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Simon was a man who liked to keep to himself, didn't really see a point in socializing with the people around him, he could make do with himself after all, there was no point in dragging other people into the mix. He liked his privacy and that was clear even for the people around him.
However, the one place he felt like he was forced to socialize was the place he hoped would've given him the privacy he needed, his apartment. Or more accurately, your shared apartment.
Simon was your roommate, a quiet and reserved man. He seldom held conversation, only ever indulging you in your little questions which ranged from how his day was going to what his plans were for the day. He didn't mind this small talk, even asking you some questions of his own, you were roommates after all, he didn't want to feel like he was living with a complete stranger.
He thought he didn't need to know more than you had already told him, you didn't pry into his personal life anyway so why would he do the same? And plus, he couldn't even be bothered to know more, ask deeper questions and look past what was on the surface... But when he came home earlier than he usually did and found the apartment to be silent, it made him wonder.
He looked around for a bit after setting his shoes down, finding it way too quiet for his liking. Before he knew it, he was walking to your room, hand ready to knock on your door to ask if you were in there just to check on you since he knew you were home way earlier than he was.
"Hey, are you in th-" He blinked for a moment, staring at your door like a deer in headlights when he heard it. His hand slowly pulled away from your door as he strained his ears, he needed to know if he was just hearing things.
"Fuck..." The sounds of your soft moans came from the other side of the door, filling his ears like a melody he'd never heard before. Simon felt like a pervert listening to you, he didn't mean to intrude but he was stuck there like his feet were planted in place right outside your door, unable to walk away after hearing your moans.
Before he could gather up enough energy for his brain to function again, his dick was already twitching in his pants, rock solid only from your voice. It made him groan, frowning as he looked down at the bulge that was growing as if it would make him any less turned on. He couldn't just jack off right outside your door even if he wanted to keep on listening to you anyway, it was too much.
As he stood outside your door, his thoughts mixing and scrambling together, he noticed your soft voice had stopped and he furrowed his brow at that, a little disappointed but he didn't move, desperate to calm his heart down so he could hear you from the other side of the door.
"Thank you... for watching..." your voice was a bit muffled through the door but your words were as clear as day. Simon's ears perked up as the gears in his head finally started working..
"So this is what you do for work, huh?" He chuckled to himself, narrowing his eyes at your door like he could somehow open it but he knew you were shuffling around in there to get everything organized so he decided it was time to walk away.
After that night, Simon saw you in a different light, a light he definitely didn't have before.
He started talking to you more, or so you noticed. On one side, it made you happy that Simon was "opening up" to you, but it was also a new feeling, he was a man of few words after all but your small chats slowly turned into deeper conversations, some even leading late into the night with how much you enjoyed each others company.
Meanwhile, Simon couldn't deny that there was something brewing, his curiosity about you definitely spiked but more than the countless nights he spent fucking his fist to the thought of those soft moans he heard some nights ago, he actually found himself genuinely enjoying your presence, especially when he found your profile on his new favorite app, onlyfans.
He only followed you, never paid for anyone else. he watched everything you put out, from the first to the latest video you posted, and he thanked what God was out there that you performed only by yourself.
Watching you became his nightly routine, he looked forward to being able to watch you before he slept, imagining what it would be like to touch you, help you feel even better than those toys you used. He began to memorize which toys you had and how you used them from how frequently he watched your content.
It was safe to say he had become enamored with you in every possible way, feeling a connection with you even if he didn't show it to you in person, he felt like he knew you.
One night, he came home in a particularly pissy mood, it was obvious work didn't go as well and he didn't talk to you when he entered through the door, only giving you a glance as he stomped to his room and closed the door with a small thud.
There were nights when he came home like this before, but after getting to know him the past few months you really started to get closer with him, you thought it'd be fine if you tried to talk to him this time around.
It was late into the evening when you walked to his door with a mug of his favorite tea in your hand. You hoped that he would be welcoming and while in the past you never really cared enough to do something like this, your new formed bond with him had you concerned about how he was doing.
"Simon?" You knocked on his door quietly, hoping he would let you in. Heavy footsteps approached the door and the slow creak made up for the silence earlier. Simon looked at you from the small crack in his door with a blank expression.
"D'ya need something?" He asked, it made you wonder a little how he sounded like he was out of breath, and of course you couldn't miss how he was clearly lacking a top. It was strange but you looked past it.
"No, I just came by to see how you were doing, I made you some tea" you gave him a small smile, extending the mug out. It made him scoff, his eyes glancing at the mug then back to you. "Thanks love, needed it" he chuckled and took the mug from your hands and giving it a sip.
"Is there anything else you need? I mean... You did look pretty upset earlier"
Your comment made him laugh, keeping his eyes on you as he opened his door wider. You couldn't miss the smirk dancing on his lips and you felt like his eyes were on every inch of you, towering over you like a beast.
"You wanna help me?" He crossed his arms, leaning against his doorframe. His eyes seemed to scan over you so intently it made you feel like you were shrinking under his gaze.
"I mean yeah... I know I never really did things like this in the past... But y'know" you shrugged, trying to lighten the atmosphere a bit. He hummed with your response, seeing it fair in a way.
"Cute" He scoffed, pushing himself off from his doorframe as he retreated back into his room, leaving you standing outside. "Y'coming in or what?" He turned back, looking at you with clear amusement, and although you couldn't tell from where you were standing, you could practically hear the smirk that was still plastered on his lips.
You stepped into his room without a word and you couldn't help but look around, it was the first time you had ever been in his room of course. He set the mug down on his nightstand before turning back to look at you, his eyes scanning you from top to bottom.
"Stand over here" He beckoned you over to him to stand in front of the mirror he had and silently, you walked over. He hummed, placing his hands on your shoulders as he stood behind you.
"You wanna help me feel better right?"
"That's the plan" You chuckled awkwardly, looking into his eyes from the mirror and it made him scoff. "Right..." His voice seemed to get lower, and so did his hands. "Work has just been... Shit, to say the least" He chuckled, his hands wandering down to your hips.
"And here you are, worried about me" He continued, nuzzling his into the side of your neck, all the while you had to watch this happen.
"Simon, what are you doing..." Your voice came out weaker than you had intended but could you really help it? Simon was pulling you back against him with your back now flat against his warm chest, planting kisses on your neck and you couldn't do anything but watch from the mirror.
"You know exactly what I'm doing, babe" He laughed against your skin, humming appreciatively as you wrapped his hands around your waist. "Do you even have any idea... The things you do to me, hm?" He mumbled, pulling away from your neck and focusing on you now, looking right into your eyes.
"What do you even mean..." You furrowed your brows and it made him scoff.
"You don't know how many nights I've spent... thinking of you" His voice was low now, turning more into a whisper while he began to slide his hands under your shirt to feel your skin.
"I know all about your little... videos, y'know"
You felt your world stop at that, everything seemed to go by slowly as a mix of confusion and embarrassment crept into your skin. "You..." Your felt your face getting hotter at the realization that Simon, your roommate, definitely knew of this little secret you tried to hide.
"I know, and let's just say that I've become... Somewhat of your biggest fan" He chuckled, returning to your neck as he caressed soft circles into your skin. "You watch my videos?" You asked and although the answer was obvious, the thought that your roommate, of all people, was watching you made you feel a little embarrassed.
"I do" He chuckled, pulling your closer and you couldn't help but gasp softly, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants rub against your ass. "Y'feel it don't you? How fuckin' bad I need you" He scoffed, rolling his hips into you with a low groan.
"Simon..." You whimpered, the mix of his hands and his dick feeling you made it impossible to stand still, and in front of the mirror, it was something that looked like it came out of a terribly scripted porn video.
He growled lowly, seemingly enjoying the way you said his name.
"Can I show you just how much I adore you, love? Prove to you that I'm your biggest fan?" He whispered, glancing into your eyes as he kissed your neck. Your words couldn't come out no matter how hard you wanted to reply, so you nodded.
Simon hummed, turning you around in his arms as he connected your lips. It was slow at first and he gave you time to adjust until you found your rhythm against his lips and it was like fireworks had gone off in Simon's mind.
He walked you to his bed, keeping the kiss intact as he pushed you on your back, your head against the pillows as he made space for himself between your legs. The kiss had turned hotter now, faster and more passionate as he pulled your shirt above your head.
"You have no fuckin' idea how long I've wanted you..." He growled, trailing his kisses to your down to the valley of your breasts as he reached behind you, fumbling with the hooks of your bra in a frenzy. Once he got that off, his lips immediately found your nipple, taking it into his mouth and rolling his tongue on it while he pinched the other.
"You're so beautiful..." He groaned against your skin as he let his free hand wander down to your shorts, slipping past the waistband and he wasted no time in pressing you through your panties. "Slow down..." You whispered breathlessly, overwhelmed with the sensations you were feeling simultaneously.
"How can I slow down when I've finally got you all to myself" He asked with a mean chuckle as he pulled away from your chest and trailed his kisses down your stomach. He made quick work of taking your shorts and underwear off and it was clear he didn't want to tease you, feeling like he'd already done that earlier when he was holding himself back from fucking you in front of his mirror.
"You look even more gorgeous in person, babe" He groaned, moving lower until his breath was on your pussy, and at this point you were starting to feel hotter.
"Pretty fuckin' pussy..." He muttered and before you knew it, your back was arching off the bed as his lips wrapped around your clit, his fingers teasing at your entrance as he closed his eyes, humming against your cunt as he sucked your clit between his lips.
He hooked his arms around your thighs, spreading them wide as he ran his tongue between your sensitive folds, muttering praises about good you tasted and how long he's waited for this moment. Your fingers tugged on his hair in a desperate attempt to make him slow down but it only seemed to encourage him further.
"Sorry baby, s'too much for you?" He chuckled sarcastically, looking at you through his lashes as he stuck his tongue flat between your folds, lapping up all he could with an appreciative hum against your pussy.
He sat up, licking his lips as he looked down at you, stroking your thighs lovingly like he didn't just deprive you of an orgasm. You glared at him as your chest heaved, silently cursing him.
"Awe, don't look at me like that, love" He laughed, his words were teasing and soft as he looked down at you, his thoughts running wild at the sight of your in front of him, he just couldn't believe it to be honest, no matter how real it felt.
"I need you" The lust in his voice was unmistakable now, looking down at you like you were his prey and he, the predator.
Simon backed up a bit, allowing himself to take his sweats off. "Fuck... Do y'see what you do to me, baby? Hm?" he chuckled, running one hand through his hair as the other stroked his cock, heavy and twitching in his fist.
"Simon... That's not gonna fit..." Your heart started to race when you saw how big his cock was in his hand, spreading his precum all over the length. It was intimidating.
"Don't gotta take all of it, love..." He chuckled, moving closer and between your legs again. He pressed the tip against your clit as he started to grind against your pussy, covering his dick in your slick with a satisfied hum as he caressed soft circles into your waist. "You're in control, you tell me when to stop" He leaned forward to catch your lips in his in a soft kiss.
His words reassured you, and although the thought of him inside you was intimidating, you couldn't deny that you also needed it, needed him.
"Okay... But let's take it slow..." You whispered, taking his face in your hands as you cupped his cheeks, feeling your chest swell in a mix of emotions. "Of course, love..." He nodded, smiling back softly and leaning back in to kiss you again and letting it linger for just a moment longer before he leaned back up, lining his tip with your entrance.
You held your breath, shutting your eyes tightly as you anticipated the stretch, but before it came, you felt Simon's hand gently take yours, intertwining your fingers together. This made you flutter your eyes open and when you did, Simon was looking down at you as his expression softened.
"Keep those pretty eyes on me, love..." He whispered, squeezing your hand in his much larger one before he slowly moved his hips, letting the tip stretch you out. It helped that Simon was holding your hand because you had something to dig your nails into aside from the sheets.
"Fuck- Simon!" You gasped, throwing your head against the pillows as you felt him stretch you open. "You're doin' so well, just a little more okay?" He groaned, finding himself closing his eyes as well. He pushed in a little more, inch by inch until he was completely seated inside you with a small thrust.
The stretch made you feel hot all over, your walls fluttered around him as you tried to catch your breath after holding it in for so long without even realizing it. Simon leaned down, setting his arms on either side of your head as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.
"You're doin' so well... So well..." He whispered into your skin while his hands gently caressed your sides. You felt his heart beating against yours and it seemed to calm you down until your heart started to beat with his rhythm. He gave you time to adjust to his size, softly calming you down as he kissed your skin.
"M-move... Please" You whispered after some time had passed and the sting slowly disappeared. Simon nodded, keeping his head buried in your neck as he slowly retracted his hips, you felt his cock drag out of you and it made you whimper.
"Fuckin' hell, baby..." He moaned as he slowly thrusted back into you. You moaned softly, feeling so full with his cock slowly moving in and out of your now. It felt so different to your toys, it felt so much better.
The more he moved, the better it felt and your moans only encouraged him more. Your soft moans filled the room, absolutely engulfing Simon, your voice was like a drug and your voice was the reason he started to get so attached to you in the first place.
"You're so goddamn pretty..." He gave your shoulder a kiss before he leaned back up, groaning as he looked down at how his cock disappeared into you, your folds spread apart to accommodate for him. "And this pussy... Fuck" He groaned rolling your clit under his thumb now.
He started to get more confident now, moving his hips faster as he filled you over and over again. You were a mess under him and it only encouraged him more to keep on fucking you open on his dick.
"You have no idea..." He groaned, bottoming out inside you as he held your ankles on either side of him, "How much I've fucked my fist to the thought of you on my dick..." He spat, his grip on your ankles tightening slightly. You could tell he was losing himself, feeling how good you were taking him.
"Let me show you how big of a fan I actually am, baby..."
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endlessthxxghts · 4 months
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Need You
Husband!Frankie Morales x wife!afab!reader || W/C: ≈5k
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Summary: Tío Santi comes to the rescue when Frankie confides in him about how the two of you have been way too busy for one another.
Warnings: Crazy events of Triple Frontier don't happen; let's just give these guys some happiness. Instead of coke, Frankie’s drug is you (LMAOOO). No “y/n.” No physical descriptions of reader (besides clothing choices), she looks like you😏 and big strong man Frankie can carry you <333. Reader knows a bit of Spanish. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Oral sex (f receiving). Unprotected P in V sex. Slow and sloppy😵‍💫. Breeding kink. Domestic kink (they get really spurred on calling each other husband and wife/esposo y esposa). Possessive kink. Daddy kink (but in the sense that reader just loves seeing Frankie as a Dad and wants to give more babies to parent!!!). Pussy slapping... Cum play/eating. Vaginal fingering/fucking. Squirting. Slight Dom!Frankie (he just really wants to hear his wife beg for his cum!!). Mentions of shower ✨activities✨. A lot of love basically — physically and emotionally. Extra warning for the parents who can’t leave their child with other people �� Tío Santi takes their baby out to eat and get treats; she’s in good hands, I promise!!!
A/N: Husband Frankie is rotting my brain bad. Especially girl dad!Frankie. My ovaries are screaming. So here's this little 5k bad boy I whipped up. This is very much a porn with a bit of (yummy domestic) plot. Hope y’all enjoy. Thank you to my sweet sweet bae @javierpena-inatacvest for proof-reading this and hyping me up since it’s my first Frankie story to be posted! I love you so much 🥹🥹💚 (edit: someone had a comment about why Isa is amorcito instead of amorcita, so in case you had that question as well, read my explanation here!)
MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG
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“Querida, I’m home!” Frankie called out. 
“In Isa’s room, baby!” you responded. 
Santi tagged along on his treck home today, offering to take Isa out for lunch and sweets after Frankie told him how both of you have been crazy busy lately. He helps himself to the kitchen while Frankie makes his way to you.
Frankie lightly knocks on the door before entering, gasping out in delight to earn a bubbly reaction from his three year old daughter. “Ay, mi esposa (my wife),” he exclaims, giving you a soft kiss to your lips. He looks to his daughter and grabs her from you, “y mi amorcito (and my little love),” he says, throwing her up in the air, coaxing a few more giggles out of her. 
He sets her back down to play with her toys, and Frankie turns to you, pulling you in for a proper hello. Your lips slot against each other in a needy embrace, still as reserved as you two can be with your child in the room. He pulls away first, arms not leaving your waist. “Hi, mama,” he says with an adoring smile. “Hi, honey,” you respond, heart still skipping a few beats as if it’s your first time meeting him. He guides you to outside the doorway, closing Isa’s room ajar, so you both are out of her view.
“Santi’s here,” he tells you. “He offered to, uh, take Isa out to get food and some dessert,” he adds nonchalantly, trying to gauge your reaction. It’s been three years since your baby was born, and still you’re always reluctant to leave her with others. It’s not that you don’t trust the people you leave her with, it’s the fact that if anything were to happen — Gods forbid — you wouldn’t be able to be there, to comfort and protect her. 
Your eyebrow raises in response. He squeezes you tighter into him, ducking closer to your ear. “And I was thinking,” he kisses the sweet spot near your pulse point, “we could take some time for ourselves?” He continues kissing and nipping at your neck, uttering a small please baby as he makes his way back to your lips. 
Little did Frankie know, you didn’t need any convincing at all. You were just about ready to drop her off at your parents as soon as he got home from work today. You don’t tell him though. You like hearing him be a little desperate for you. 
His hand skates lower to your ass, the other hand making its way to cup your front. “It’s been weeks, baby, I need to taste her,” he says, damn near a whine. 
You grab both sides of his face and pull him into a searing kiss. “Go pack her bag,” you whisper as you pull away from his grasp, making your way to Santi to give him the rundown. 
In record time, Frankie packs Isa’s go bag in under five minutes: diapers, extra change of clothes, baby wipes, baby Benadryl, and some of her comfort snacks just in case she’s extra picky today. He picks up his baby, assessing if she needs a diaper change — she’s dry — and heads to the kitchen. “Wanna hang with Tío Santi today, mi amor?”
Her face lights up, and she squeals, “yes, daddy, pleeeeaaase!” 
He chuckles, his heart warming at how much she loves his best friend, his brother. 
He and Isa enter the kitchen to you giving Santi the rundown on her allergies. 
“We exposed her to all the major allergens already and no reactions, except for peanuts — she gets a little red, so just watch out for that. There’ll be Benadryl in her pack just in case.”
Santi gives you a salute, “Sir, yes, sir.” 
You playfully roll your eyes at his antics. “One more thing,” you say as you go to kiss your baby goodbye. “Usually I’d ask if you could send pictures throughout the time you’re gone…” you look at Frankie. 
Santi smirks, knowing where this is headed. 
“But you don’t have to. At least for today,” your face remains composed, but the heat spreading across your cheeks exposes you. 
“Got it. No peanuts,” Santi says, reaching for the bag off Frankie’s shoulder and the keys from his pocket, “and no interruptions,” he winks at you both. “Let me know when you guys are ready for us to come back,” he looks to his beautiful niece in her mother’s arms, peppering her with goodbye kisses. 
“Vamanos (let’s go), mija!” Santi says, prying her out of your arms. Frankie reaches to give her one last kiss on her forehead, and they’re out the door. 
As soon as the front door clicks shut, Frankie is on you in an instant, too riled up to wait until you’re in the bedroom. He needs you badly, and he needs you now. He’s caging you in between his body and the kitchen counter, lips on you like he’ll die tonight if he doesn’t touch you. Your lungs are burning for air, yet you don’t pull away. You can’t. He’s too addicting. Too much time has passed without the pleasure you two bring one another, so you’ll sacrifice one survival need for another. 
Before you know it, his hands are at the base of your ass, lifting you to the kitchen counter, and his lips are dragging down your jaw, your neck, and into your cleavage, nipping every little exposed place your cropped tank allows him. His hands are at the waistband of your sweats, pulling them down as he brings himself to his knees. 
“Oh, fuck, baby,” he takes a deep breath in. His eyes are impossibly darker, demeanor turning animalistic as he feels just your sweats alone and no underwear. He gets a view of your already glistening pussy, and he can’t help the growl that leaves his throat. 
He settles his hands under the globe of your ass and scoots you to the edge, your thighs finding solace on his shoulders. You immediately lean back on your elbows, knowing the moment his mouth is on you, your body will go weak at his touch. 
Without any warning, his tongue licks the entirety of your leaking seam, hands automatically gripping you tighter as the taste of you hits his tongue. The sound that leaves you sends shivers down his spine, his cock painfully hard and leaking in his jeans. He licks you a few more times, letting his drool drip down his tongue and spread all over you, making you a soaking mess of your arousal and his spit. 
Once you’re drenched to his liking, he dives right in, face completely flushed against your sex, sloppily sucking and licking into you, hitting all the right buttons to make you see fucking stars. By his hands or his tongue, he still knows how to steer you in the direction of the most beautiful constellations, even if they are behind your eyelids. 
“Frankie, fuck-!” you yell out, your inhibitions automatically down with the fact that the house is left to the two of you. Frankie’s hips involuntarily buck into nothing at your moans, missing the sounds you always made for him. Ever since Isa was born, both of you made a conscious effort to work on your noise levels — especially you. You were the most vocal he’s ever been with, and fuck if it didn’t make him all the more whipped. He almost forgot what your sounds do to him. Almost. But now that you’ve given him a taste again after so long, he needs more. 
He circles your clit a few times and sucks it, hard. He pulls off with a lewd pop, his dominant hand leaving your ass and making its way to your entrance. You’re such a fucking mess that his two fingers slide right in, giving you the extra push Frankie needed to pull more heavenly moans and whimpers out of you. “Let me hear you, mama,” he says, tongue circling your clit as his fingers work you to the edge. “Sing for me, baby,” and with what little strength you have, you force your head forward to watch his ministrations, and the sight is what sends you falling first. Frankie’s mouth is wrapped around the entirety of you, eyes dark and on yours, his hooked nose rubbing against all the right places while his arm muscles ripple as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. 
“Shit- oh, fuck-” you whine out, your head like a bobble head, too heavy to maintain upright. Frankie curls his fingers just right, and-
 “Oh my God, Francisco, oh my God!” Your hips are bucking into his face, his own strength unable to keep your hips down with how hard your orgasm is hitting you. He lets you ride out your wave on his face, drinking every last drop coming out of you. 
His fingers are out of you now, Frankie immediately cleaning them in his mouth, not wanting to Iet any of your sweet syrup go to waste. Your chest is heaving, eyes clamped shut, and your body is entirely limp. Frankie stands to his full height, and he’s pulling you up to sit up straight, his hands guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. He chuckles a little. “Still with me?” 
Your torso loses its strength momentarily, and you almost fall back. His arms immediately wrap around you, supporting you to maintain your upright position. You laugh at yourself, a blissed out smile gracing your face. He feels his heart flutter, just as strong as when he first met you. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here, you monster,” you lightly laugh, resting your head on him. “God, I love you,” your voice slightly muffled from burrowing yourself into his chest. 
His one hand leaves your back and wraps itself around your jaw, bringing your lips up to his. You can taste yourself on him, and you can already feel another fire being lit deep in your core, your arousal dripping onto the kitchen counter as your lips continue with his. 
You pull away, breathless, ready for more. “Take me to bed, baby.” 
“You sure you’re ready now?” He smirks. 
“Keep teasing, and I won’t let you cum inside of me, big boy.” 
His lips find yours again in a bruising manner, a growl leaves him as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. “Last I checked, you were the one begging for me to fuck my cum so deep inside you that it had no other option but to latch on. If that’s what you want again, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” 
You whimper in response, your spurt of dominance dissipating immediately. 
“That what you want, baby? Come on, tell me. I wanna hear it.” 
Your eyes are glossing over, too pent up with a fertile need to get your brain to come up with any kind of response. His grasp on your jaw tightens, his lips ghosting yours as he talks. “Tell me you want my cum, baby. Tell me you want me to fill you up so fucking full of me.” 
“Yes, baby, fuck, I need you. I need you inside of me, I need you to fill me. Please, you’re such a good daddy, I wanna give you more, please,” you ramble on. His mouth is on you again in a sloppy embrace as he picks you up and guides you two to your bedroom. 
He sets you down at the edge of the bed. He guides your shirt off, then his. He pulls back for a second and shucks his bottoms off, giving you a complete view of his tanned and toned naked body, his little tummy a little soft around the edges. Your pussy is crying at the sight. 
You don’t waste anymore time as you settle yourself to the center of your bed, your legs already falling open with muscle memory. Frankie licks his lips at the sight. Part of him just wants to go down on you again, but the way his cock is screaming at him for release and your pussy is clenching on nothing—yeah, his oral fixation can wait. 
He settles himself in between your legs. His hands are grounded into the pillow beside your head as your legs automatically hook around his waist. He rubs his length across your wetness, you mewl for him as he lets his tip drag across your clit. 
“Baby, please,” you whine. 
“I’ve got you, baby.” 
His tip breaches your entrance. God, you’ve missed him so much, and you tell him exactly that. 
His lips are on yours, never really satiated with the amount of kisses he takes from you, “I fuckin’ missed you so much.” He pushes deeper in. “God, my beautiful wife, I love you so much,” he breathes out as his lips graze your temple. 
His hips are flushed with yours, your hands secure themselves around his neck. “Please, baby, let’s never go this long again, I need you so bad,” he rasps. He’s pulling out again, his head kissing your core. “Need you always,” he says as he pushes back in, maintaining a slow but hard rhythm.
You pull him impossibly closer into you, your hands grasping and feeling him anywhere you can reach. You rock your hips to meet every push and pull of his own, lips ghosting each other with each movement, your eyes threatening to roll back at how entirely full you feel. 
He’s taking his fucking time with you tonight, fucking you slowly into the mattress, harder with each thrust, reveling in sound of your pussy each time he pushes in, and he can’t help the way he smiles into the sloppy kisses and shared breaths. 
You’re a complete mess, tears falling from your eyes at how addicting he feels mixed with the pure love you have for this man. You really don’t even register what you’re babbling about, but that doesn’t matter. Frankie’s in heaven listening to a mixture of your drawn out moans, the occasional Lord’s name in vain, and the repeated I love you, baby, I love you so much.
One of his hands drag down to your clit, rubbing clumsy yet perfect circles, forcing your dam to finally break. He’s completely soaked in you and so are your thighs and the bedsheets. Your fall is slow but all-consuming. Your back arches into him, your nipples rubbing deliciously against his chest, and the feeling is the final push that sends him painting your walls white. 
His hand leaves your swollen clit and wraps itself around your lower back, helping you maintain your arch form as he continues rocking himself into you well into his softened state. He can feel your body start to tense out of overstimulation, so he finally pulls out of you, leaving you a leaking mess of both your and his cum. He sits back on his hunches, his fingers drawing circles on your inner thighs, just admiring the sight until his cock begins to stir again. 
“Jesus, Morales,” you giggle breathily as you clocked the jump of his length.
He leans over you again, giving you a sweet, lengthy kiss as he begins to slide himself off the bed. “What can I say, baby? I’m insatiable with you,” he gives you a mischievous smirk. 
He heads to the kitchen, returning to the bedroom with a chilled glass of water for you. “Drink up,” he says.
Before he makes it to the en suite bathroom, he adds, “I’m not done with you yet, mama.”
Despite the sensitivity down there, your pussy flutters at his words, craving him down there in any way shape or form.
He returns with a warm cloth, cleaning you up as best as he can with your second round of slick and his endless load of cum pouring from you. He sets the cloth down somewhere on the floor and situates himself up against the headboard. He wordlessly guides you to lay between his legs, your chest resting against his. 
“Wanna check on Isa?” Frankie asks, albeit a little shy. You smirk a little, knowing you’re usually the one to cave first. You make grabby hands at your phone on the nightstand, nudging Frankie to grab it since his wingspan is much larger than yours. He hands it to you, and you immediately dial Santi, hitting the speaker button as it rings.
“Hey, Santi.” 
“Hey, Mrs. Fish,” you can hear him laugh at his name for you. Frankie also gives a little laugh. He thought it was the funniest thing he’s ever said during your guys’ wedding reception. He calls you that more than your own name now. 
“How’s it going?” you try to ask in an unconcerned fashion. Santi knows you both all too well to know that isn’t the case. 
“You know you two didn’t have to quit just to check on her, right? Tío Santi knows how to distract! Also, tío Santi knows how to put her down for a nap!” He says proudly.
“I believe you, Santi, don’t worry. Just checking. Frankie just kept bugging-” 
Before you could continue your sentence, Frankie’s hands immediately go to your sides, hitting all your ticklish spots. You scream out, a loud stream of giggles leaving you. 
“Coño, por favor, not while I’m on the phone!” You hear Santi say. “Sorry, Sorry,” you say, still out of breath from Frankie’s merciless attack. 
“Actually, Santi, can I ask another favor?” 
Frankie looks at you confused. You smirk at him. “Is tío Santi prepared for his first sleepover?” His confusion fades and immediately his eyes are consumed with pure lust, his soft brown eyes turning black. 
Santi is silent for a moment. “You two are downright feral, you know that, right?”
You stifle a laugh. “Ay Dios mío (oh my God),” Frankie mutters. 
“As long as I get another niece — or nephew, I really have no preference — in nine months time…” Santi trails off in thought. “Then I’d dedicate every damn weekend to her,” he says. 
You turn your head around and up to meet Frankie’s eyes, both of you in shock at Santi’s silent invitation, silence fills the air for a moment before you finally bring yourself to speak. 
“Oh? Alright, then,” you softly say. “Thank you, Santi, you’re the best. We’ll text you, okay? Bye,” you hang up, not giving Santi any chances to return the call-ending formalities. You and Frankie are still looking at each other, eyes wild at the proposition before you. 
“Every weekend, huh?” Frankie says, breaking the tension first. His head dips down to place a kiss where your neck and shoulder meet. 
You suck in a breath, arousal forming faster than a strike of lightning. “Mhm,” you barely get out. His hands are roaming your body now, your phone thrown haphazardly somewhere in the room, long forgotten. He places his hands on the insides of your thighs, spreading you open and keeping them atop his own legs, so he can hold you open. His one hand is spread largely over your lower belly while his other hand is already teasing your core. 
His finger circles directly on your clit, you yelp in response, your body twitching. “Every weekend, I’m gonna get to fuck my wife, huh?” Frankie says into your ear. “Gonna fill her full of me?” Your hips buck at the huskiness of his voice, of his possessiveness over you. Your response is incoherent, more of a moan than anything. Next thing you know, your room reverberates with the noise of a wet slap. 
He spanked your pussy. The sound that escapes your throat is beyond arousing, Frankie’s cock back to life, dripping on your lower back. “Answer me properly, baby,” he says again, softly. His fingers are circling your clit again, forcing more of your wetness out of you, his cum from earlier still seeking its place on your bedsheets.
“Mmm, fuck-” you breathe, “Yes, yes, every weekend, baby,” you’re nodding your head frantically as you try to keep your eyes trained on his actions down below. “Every weekend you’re gonna make me so full,” you whimper, “Gonna fuck a baby into me, daddy, I need you so bad.”
He slides two of his fingers into you at your words, his hips grind into your back at the feel of your warmth, of his spend keeping you nice and wet. His fingers pump in and out of you at a languid pace, his fingers arching in a come-here motion to beckon more of his cum onto his fingers. He pulls out of you momentarily, analyzing the mess he’s made. “Open, querida,” he whispers, likely in a trance at the sight. 
You open your mouth, tongue out and ready. He sticks his fingers into your mouth, and you lap up his salty spend greedily, as if it were the sweetest of syrups. You taste a distinct tanginess on his fingers, most likely the product of your own arousal. Your eyes fall shut at your taste, eyes feeling heavy and too blissed out to stay open. He pulls out of your mouth with a pop and grabs your chin, turning your face to his. He pulls you in for an open-mouthed kiss, wet and hot. His hand leaves your face and returns to your core. His fingers are back inside you, pushing in and out as his palm grinds perfectly into your clit. Your hips are moving in tandem, providing you with the perfect rhythm to soak him all over again. His lips never break from your own, tongues dancing in a way only you two get to know. 
Your hand seeks purchase at the back of his neck, tugging at the base of his curls, taking away his opportunity to break away from you. He moans into your mouth at the sharp sensation, your lower back a sticky mess from how much he’s leaking onto you. 
Finally, you break away, lips still connected by the thinnest of spit lines. “Baby, I- I’m gonna cum, shit-”
Frankie lets out a growl, desperate to have you fall apart on him. He maintains his same pace, adding a bit more pressure of his palm to your clit, his other hand pushing harder down into your belly, knowing how crazy the stimulation drives you. “Give it to me,” he mumbles in your ear, his heavy breathing fanning across your cheek. “Need it, baby. Need you,” he whines. 
“Fuck-!” you yell out, head pushing harder into his shoulder, eyes clamping shut and forming white, blinding fireworks beneath your eyelids. He fucks his fingers in you as you ride out your high, tears letting loose as your pussy squirts into his hand and all over both your bottom halves. 
The sight transforms him into a cumming mess, the only stimulation being the friction from your backside as he rutted into you. You don’t notice the warm wetness between your bodies until your body falls completely limp against him, breathing still heavy but slowly returning to normal. Frankie bejewels your face with sweet kisses — from your temples to the edge of your shoulder that he can reach — as you slowly come back to Earth. 
You look up at him now, a soft smile spread across your face. His heart stutters at the sight. You shift your back a little. “Did you…?”
“Yes, I did,” Frankie admits way too quickly, embarrassment flooding his face. 
You pull him into one more kiss before you start to get up. “Come on. Shower and then we eat,” you tell him. “You didn’t get to settle yourself down after work,” you add, slightly scolding him for his impatience yet also silently thanking him. 
“I can always eat in the shower,” Frankie adds suggestively, his eyes giving your body a once over as you stand beside the bed, waiting for him to get a move on. 
“Morales!” you gasp out. “Bad,” you say, shaking your head from side to side. 
“You know it’s gonna happen, mi amor (my love),” he says as he stands, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into him, seeking your warmth. 
And it does happen. He makes you fall apart on his tongue twice, and you pay him back by reducing him down to jelly legs as you fuck his cum down your throat. By the time you two actually start your shower, the water is completely cold, not one drop of hot water available. 
Post-shower, you two cook a fast, simple meal, too eager to be on each other again, but too aware of how important it is to give your body sustenance in order to continue with your feral behavior. You only get a few hours of sleep that night. Falling asleep after each round only to wake back up a horny, dripping mess just to fuck again. You don’t remember the last time you two did something like this, but damn were you two needing it. You made a mental note to thank Santi for his much needed offer.
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The next morning you wake up at seven, the first sensation you feel for the day is your sore pussy, red and puffy as she begs you to give her a break. You look at the knocked out man beside you, give him a kiss on the forehead and break away from his hold, bringing yourself to the bathroom. You take your phone with you. 
[07:13] Just woke up. Drop Isabela off whenever you’re ready. 
[07:15] God, no wonder she’s up already. She’s got your early ass schedule. 
You laugh to yourself, picturing Santi a half asleep man child as your daughter crawls all over him, forcing him to get up, too. What Santi didn’t know was that it was actually Isa’s schedule that you were on. 
[07:16] Pobrecito (poor thing). :( 
[07:16] She’ll probably be asking for Frankie soon. She always cuddles him in the morning. 
[07:17] Yep, she just did. I’ll feed her some breakfast now, then we’ll be on our way. That good, Mrs. Fish?
[07:18] If it’s good with little Fish, then it’s good with me. 
He sends you a thumbs up, and you set your phone down. You wash up and get ready for the day. 
After you brush your teeth and wash your face, you head to Frankie’s side of the closet and grab one of his soft, cotton tees to throw on. 
You head to the kitchen, your first course of action being to fire up the espresso machine. Espresso is the only form of coffee you drink, and soon enough, Frankie followed in your footsteps. Just as you suspected, as soon as the smell of the beans filled the air, Frankie appeared in the kitchen. His sleepy eyes and sexed out hair on display nearly cause your knees to buckle, your aching pussy betraying your want for a lazy morning. 
He makes his way to you and kisses you, soft and slow, probably needing a lazy morning just as much as you. “Good morning, mi esposa (my wife),” he says, voice still raspy from sleep. 
“Mmm, good morning, mi esposo (my husband),” you smile up at him. “Sleep well?”
“With the sleep that I did get, I’d say yeah,” he says. “You really tired me out, hermosa (beautiful),” he adds.
You pull him down for another kiss. You’ll never tire of the feeling. “Waffles?”
His eyes light up, a boyish grin on his face. “Yes, please.”
Around 8:30 as you and Frankie finish your waffles, the front door is unlocking. A little girl with crazy hair comes busting in, running straight for the both of you to pull you guys into a tight group hug. 
“Mommy! Daddy!” she screams.
“Mi amorcito,” Frankie responds, matching her energy. “Mi niña loca (my crazy girl),” you squeal. “I missed you so much!” you add. 
You and Frankie kiss each of her cheeks, sandwiching her little face. 
“Did you have fun with tío Santi?” you ask.
“So much fun, mommy! We had ice cream for break-”
Before she could finish, Santi chimes in. “O-o-okayyyyy, Isa!” he claps his hand once. “Why don’t you bring this to your room,” he hands her a tiny gift bag — probably the product of some shopping they did — “while I talk to mommy and daddy?”
“Okay, tío Santi!” She takes the bag and makes her way to her room. 
Your eyebrows are raised in mock scolding as you wait for Santi to explain himself. “Hey! In my defense, those puppy dog eyes are a killer. I couldn’t say no.”
The three of you break out into laughter, Frankie going in for a hug, clapping Santi on the back as he releases him. 
“Waffles?” you offer Santi. He graciously accepts, making his way to the other side of the kitchen counter, helping himself. 
“So-” you and Frankie say at the same time. Santi pauses his actions mid-bite. 
Frankie nudges you to speak first. You clear your throat to ease the awkwardness in the room. 
“So,” you start again. “Were you, uh… were you serious about watching Isa?” you ask?
“Every weekend?” Frankie adds. 
You giggle, nodding an affirmative at your husband. “Yes, every weekend?” 
Santi finishes the bite he paused on, and sets his waffle down. “You dirty dogs!” he says. 
“Pope, come on,” Frankie’s palms go over his cheeks that are currently turning red at Santi’s teasing. 
He lets out a laugh. “Sí, cabrón (yes, asshole),” Santi says, slapping Frankie’s shoulder.  “Of course I’m serious. I’d do anything for both of you, and especially that demon of a little girl.” 
Your heart warms at Santi’s sentiment. You’re beyond grateful Frankie has a best friend like him. 
“On one condition,” Santi adds, his eyebrow quirked up.
“Anything,” you say eagerly. Frankie nods his head in agreement with you.
“I also wasn’t kidding when I said I’d need another sobrino (niece/nephew).”
You and Frankie look at each other, your stares saying everything they needed to. Yeah, Santi didn’t need to worry about that. 
And you were right when the next Saturday morning, a month and four tío Santi sleepovers later, you and Frankie presented Santi with your pregnancy test displaying two pink lines.
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End note: Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc, — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback for my stories (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo
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sixosix · 3 months
Text
i want you for worse or for better | aether
synopsis your ex, aether, asks you to be his plus one; you were doomed from the very beginning.
tags wc 2.8k, gn!reader, modern au, profanity, getting back together, exes to lovers, humor bc i cant take my own writing seriously, ft 4GGRAVATE!!!
notes ty to @earthtooz and @naosaki helping me brainstorm w this one… our big brains were on the same wave while cooking.
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Aether moved around a lot. He was never the type to settle down. It was in his blood to explore the world and leave only a trace of him behind. He was something like a hero, coming in at the worst time and leaving them better than before. You couldn’t say the same about his effect on you, though.
You told him of this before, and he slumped over and rested his head on your lap, “I don’t even mean to. Are you at least swept off your feet by my heroic deeds?”
“I was so charmed I only dated you because you have overthrown the government,” you said.
Aether had laughed then, and kissed you sweetly. You couldn’t fool him for a second—how you melted to the kiss spoke for itself. You loved him for so much more than that.
But you also knew that it wouldn’t last long. Aether warned you about it, too; you couldn’t even be mad. How could you blame anyone but yourself when you deliberately brushed past all the warning signs?
“I don’t stay,” Aether told you, at the time. “If you want to do this…”
“I know,” you said, at the time. “I know what I’m getting myself into. So will you just kiss me already?”
Well, you should’ve known, too, that falling out of love with Aether wouldn’t be as easy as falling in love with him. Not when he kissed you like he would never leave, anyway. You were doomed from the very beginning.
“You’ve been staring at your phone for a worryingly long time now,” Tighnari said, eyeing you from the top of his cards.
You were seated on Alhaitham’s living room couch, the four boys lounging on the floor playing TCG. Cyno was winning effortlessly against Kaveh, but against Tighnari, he found himself at a loss. Alhaitham was continuing Cyno’s winning streak on his behalf, while Cyno was down two rounds from playing with Tighnari. You had been playing, too, but your phone lit up and displayed a name that had you dropping your cards and hiding your screen from your friends’ view.
You bit your lip and reread the message for the third time. The previous texts had been months ago, with him wishing you a happy birthday. You replied with a Thank you and a red heart emoji, because the &lt;3 emoticon felt too intimate.
“Aether texted me,” you murmured, then braced yourself for the explosion.
It was Kaveh that did. “Aether? As in your ex, Aether? That Aether?” Kaveh demanded.
“Do you know other Aethers?” Alhaitham quipped, then placed a card that had Kaveh clutching his head and groaning.
“Shut up,” Kaveh hissed, mostly because he lost. “The point is—that’s your ex! What did he say?”
You buried your face on the couch pillow, hating how your heart was racing. Like you were still in high school, or something, and not a full-grown adult who was having a crisis over their ex texting them. “He said hey are you up?, all lowercase, no comma.”
“No comma,” Kaveh repeated with a suspicious look on his face.
“No need to be so wary,” Cyno said. “His intentions don't appear to deliberately cause any 'comma-tion’.”
Tighnari’s ears dropped along with his face.
“Do you get it?” Cyno seemed proud that he was able to come up with that one right away. “There was no comma. It was a wordplay on commotion—”
“Did he also say what he was texting you for?” Kaveh interrupted loudly. “If he wants something, send a picture of us and tell him you’re busy.”
“Aether’s not like that,” you murmured in defeat.
Kaveh was making him out to be some sort of playboy. Aether wasn’t, which made you worry more. You didn’t want to entertain someone who left you, but you still cared enough to wonder if something came up and he needed you.
“You’re going to reply?” Tighnari asked.
“Yes,” you said, typing out a what’s up? and hitting Send. You didn’t know why you had butterflies in your stomach—you used to shower with Aether back when you were still together; there was no need to be so nervous. “He’s your friend, too, you know.”
“You were our friend first,” Kaveh said. “And he broke your heart. That’s not something to be taken lightly.”
You felt warm, a smile blooming on your face. “It’s okay. I wasn’t that affected.”
“You were,” Kaveh, Tighnari, and Cyno chorused.
“Fuck you,” you said, smile dropping.
Aether was typing again. You sat up straight and watched the three dots do the worm on the bottom of your screen. 
hi :) how are you?
Ugh. Furiously, you typed, aether spit it out. did something happen?
okay okay
You expected that he just wanted something. Something had to have come up for him to text you after months. That didn’t make it hurt any less, though. Maybe Aether was a playboy; the way he played with your feelings almost qualified him for it.
But then you think back to when Aether was still in Sumeru, lighting up the room, lighting up a fire in your heart. He was everyone’s favorite, too, not just yours. And even if Kaveh and the others denied it now, they hadn’t been able to deny him back then. Aether helped them out in ways they didn’t know how to repay. Aether made you so happy, to be thinking so negatively about him like this.
Aether sent: i’m invited to aymar’s wedding and i wanted to ask if you would agree to be my plus one
why me?
you’re the first person i thought of.
Perhaps he wasn’t in trouble—he was trouble enough. What were you getting yourself into?
i thought you didn’t want to get involved with Aymar anymore
i can’t turn down an excuse to eat free at a buffet
You sighed. You wouldn’t, either.
You frowned at your screen, wishing it was Aether in front of you instead. Maybe if you could read his expressions instead of reading between the lines of his texts, you could figure out why he invited his ex, of all the people he knew.
besides, Aether continued to text, this is probably aymar’s way of showing us that she’s over me. she has a groom now and all that
Aymar had the biggest crush on Aether, and she never hid it, even when you and Aether were dating. But despite her advances, she was a sweet girl who was just as infatuated with your ex as the rest of Teyvat was. Maybe this was her way of apologizing.
However—
she didn’t even invite me wtf
haha well is that a no?
“Guys,” you spoke up, grabbing your friends’ attention. Kaveh was still losing miserably. “Have you heard news of Aymar’s wedding?”
“Oh,” Kaveh looked thoughtful, “yes. We were invited.”
“What? Was I the only one not invited?”
“Maybe it’s because you got to date Aether and she didn’t,” Tighnari said.
You rolled your eyes. “Well, Aether’s asking me to be his plus one—and I’m going to say yes don’t look at me like that.”
Alhaitham, Cyno, and Kaveh wordlessly clear their expressions.
“Oh,” Tighnari frowned. “We weren’t planning on going.”
“We have to now!” Kaveh said. “We have to, if Y/N’s going.”
“Is this too much?”
You checked yourself out in the full-length mirror, performing a little twirl that had Kaveh clapping. Alhaitham sat beside him, briefly looking up from his book. Tighnari and Cyno were elsewhere, picking shoes for you that would be in the range of ‘cheap’ and ‘expensive, but not because I care about what Aether would think’.
“Of course not,” Kaveh said, giving a thumbs up. “You look great!”
You turned to Alhaitham next, who didn’t hesitate: “Looks good. Might as well wear yellow, too.”
You flushed hotly at his implications. “I’m not dressing up to impress him! This is a formal event, which he happened to invite me to—as friends.”
“Right,” Alhaitham drawled. He could at least pretend to believe you, but that would probably be asking too much from him already.
Kaveh nudged Alhaitham, with a bit more force than necessary. “Cut Y/N some slack.”
Alhaitham sighed imperceptibly, turning his full attention to you. “This would probably be the closure you needed,” Alhaitham said, and you recognized his way of comfort for the way it is. “You’ll find out that you’re over him after this.”
“You’re right,” you said, breathing in deep. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“So,” Kaveh stood up. “Is that what you’re buying? Let’s make haste—Cyno reserved a spot in the line for you!”
Excitement bubbled in your chest as you held the fabric to your chest.
You were definitely not over Aether.
As soon as you felt yourself fidgeting nervously a block away from the ceremony, you knew. As soon as a car rolled in and he stumbled out of the car, tripping because he was waving at you, you knew that you were so not over him.
You tried to blame the heat of the sun for how warm you suddenly felt, but you could be referring to the other sun making his merry way to you, his smile bright, all teeth. His braid could almost be a tail from how it waggled as he jogged over.
“Hey,” Aether, charming and beautiful Aether, gold and warm—your ex, Aether—breathed out, “you look great.”
“You, too.” Aether looked maddening in a suit, in the best way possible. You felt lightheaded and choked out, “Very dashing.”
“Yeah?” He grinned.
“Yeah,” you said, then turned away in case he saw the raw, unfiltered want on your face.
“Shall we?”
How cheesy. Still, you felt yourself flush as you linked your arms with his, like you were a couple. Kaveh was going to kill you—after he killed Aether first.
Aymar’s wedding was startlingly grand. You think she might just have invited the entirety of Sumeru; you might even find Lesser Lord Kusanali here, maybe. 
You found your friends and settled beside them while Aether awkwardly sat on the far edge. He seemed reluctant to have space from you, so you pulled him closer.
“Hey,” Tighnari greeted him. “How have you been? You stopped sending us letters.”
Aether looked extremely uncomfortable. He must be feeling Cyno’s stern stare. “Haha. Well, yeah.” 
The ceremony went as usual. The groom was someone you didn’t recognize; he looked like he was from Sumeru, all big and intimidating—the complete opposite of Aether. Aymar’s tastes changed drastically. All the same, you cheered along with the crowd when they kissed.
You haven’t been able to attend many weddings yourself, though you could always appreciate how emotional the newlyweds got. Vows were always the sweetest to hear. You’d never seen Aymar smile so wide before; then again, it was only fitting. This was her wedding day. Not that you’d know, though.
You glance to the side, catching Aether looking at the newlyweds kiss with an unreadable expression on his face. He looked like he longed for it, but that didn’t seem right. Weddings tied you down. Aether didn’t want to be tied down.
Kaveh clapped the loudest, which snapped Aether into clapping along as well.
You wondered what Aether was thinking. You wonder if he was thinking the same. Looking at the happy bride and the teary groom—could this have been you and him in another life?
Hah.
That’s a funny thought.
You bit your bottom lip to distract yourself from feeling your eyes go hot.
Aymar beamed at you two as she bounded over. “You came!” she said, though it was directed at you.
You wanted to tell her you weren’t even invited, but you felt like that would ruin the moment. Plus, it was literally her wedding. You were glad you ended up here after all the years you spent knowing each other. You smiled back, genuine, and leaned into her hug.
“Of course,” you said. “You look beautiful.”
Aymar blushed. “Thank you. You two look great as well!”
Aether shuffled beside you. “Thanks for inviting us.”
Aymar had that look in her eye that spelled suspicious.
But the past was the past. You weren’t going to get jealous when Aymar was quite literally married, and Aether wasn’t even your boyfriend anymore. “I’m glad you’re happy, Aymar,” you said.
Aymar glanced between the two of you, then finally at you. “I hope you find happiness, too, Y/N. Soon, hopefully.”
The reception started. While your friends were busy hoarding the food, you and Aether were left alone. He looked uncharacteristically nervous—it made you pity him. He was the one who asked you to come with him, but he must have felt out of place the entire time. Everyone thought he would never return, after all.
You traced the rim of your glass, hoping to appear nonchalant. “So, what have you been up to while at Fontaine? Finally moving off to Natlan?” you asked, then bit back a Find any other flings, too?
Aether sighed, twirling his champagne flute before taking a long sip. “Didn’t do too much, honestly. I spent most of my time there thinking.” His eyes flicked up to yours. “Lumine already found her place here in Teyvat, and I…”
Oh.
You were glad you held back from being petty while Aether was genuinely distressed over his journey to self-discovery. Again, you weren’t an asshole. And you still cared about Aether, despite everything, because he was hard to hate. With a sad face like that…
“Sorry,” you muttered. You didn’t mean to make him remember Lumine.
Aether laughed softly. “It’s not like that. It took me a while, but—I had already found my place, too. I was just too dumb not to realize it sooner.”
You wanted to chide him for calling himself dumb, but he was looking at you like he was waiting for you to get something. You blinked, feeling lost.
Aether tilted his head. “It’s with you.”
Your mouth hung open. “What?”
Aether went to repeat it, but Cyno and Tighnari had come back with plates heaping with food. Cyno had one on each hand, unabashed. He sat on his seat and said, in all seriousness, “We might have finished all the catering.”
Tighnari chuckled, “We didn’t, but you two should hurry and get your fill.”
You didn’t get another chance to talk with Aether privately during the reception, but it was still good fun. Aether seemed to warm up to your friends again—or, rather, your friends seemed to warm up to him again.
You shared laughs, food, and toasts with the newlyweds—but your favorite had to have been sharing glances with Aether all throughout the night.
You and Aether went ahead. Cyno and Tighnari didn’t seem surprised when you told them that you were letting Aether take you home, which would have certainly been a blow to your dignity had it been in any other situation.
“So,” you started, “what made you realize you wanted to get me back? Did you have some revelation while in Fontaine?”
“Yes, actually,” Aether said, his hands brushing against yours now and then. “For every sight and couple I saw, I just kept thinking about how you would’ve loved it there.”
“Oh.”
Aether looked bashful. The moonlight highlighted his blush well. “I thought it was because we had just broken up at the time, but I never stopped thinking about you.”
Aether kept going, but you were already sold. You already wanted to get back with him the moment he texted you with all lowercase and no commas. You were fooling no one. Not Alhaitham, not yourself. “What, so you want to take me to the City of Love?”
Aether looked at you fondly. “You would always be the first one I’d think of.”
“I curbed your wanderlust…?” You were fishing for it at this point, but being deprived of Aether’s affections for a long while did that to a person.
You felt outmaneuvered. Shouldn’t you be letting him chase after you a bit more? Why were you discarding your pride just like that? Over your ex?
Your not-ex-anymore now-boyfriend-again smiled. “You became my reason to stay.”
Well. You were doomed from the very beginning.
“Aether!” Paimon shrieked from the other room. “You have mail!”
“Alright, alright,” Aether sighed, lazily pulling himself up from his bed and trudging to the living room. Paimon held a brown envelope.
Aether opened it and withdrew the contents, puzzled.
“Ooh!” Paimon gasped. “Two invitations for a wedding? Is it for Paimon, too?”
Aether ripped the other envelope, heart stuttering at the sight of a familiar name inked on the vellum paper. He blushed. “This is—!”
“Huh? For Y/N?” Paimon snatched the invitation from Aether’s fingers. “Why was it addressed to us? Maybe they were mistaken…”
Aether read something on the back of your invitation. “I don’t think it was mistaken.”
Written with a ballpen, it said, Hi, Y/N! It’s Aymar! I don’t know Aether’s address and none of my colleagues seemed to know where his residence would be…? (Probably because Aether wasn’t even in Sumeru.) But I assumed you would be staying together, so here’s my invitation for you both—I hope you can come!
Aether recognized an opportunity when he saw one.
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extras!
the ending was rlly vague so let me add: aether was planning to go back to sumeru for you already and the wedding invitation was a perfect excuse—he flew out back to sumeru literally the next day.
earthtooz was making out with alhaitham & art was making out w kaveh during the reception which is why they dont show up during the end thanks
cyno brought his tcg deck and made tighnari bring his own—thats what they did during the afterparty lol
don’t ask if paimon was floating or if she was on the ground. sometimes we dont have to question things.
aymar was a name i just grabbed from the list of sumeru npcs—i don’t actually know if i butchered her personality horribly. if i did, forgive me.
THANK YOU FOR READING HOPE U ENJOYED!! LMK WHAT U THINK <3333 comments/rbs get a kiss from aether
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gothoffspring · 5 months
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baby's first tattoo set! I don't know what made me do this other than I really wanted some more simlish knuckle tattoos (it always leads back to simlish somehow) and it.. escalated into a full body endeavor. You can mix and match these, so they're not just full body! More previews, details and download under the cut! P.S: happy simblreen!!! (this KIND of counts because it has a spiderweb and plague doctor tattoo.. right??)
DETAILS:
these are tattoos for the masculine frame. I will absolutely be re-arranging some things and reuploading a fem frame version asap!
You can choose to pick which categories you'd like them to show up in (out of 4 different slots: upper chest, lower back, left upper arm and left lower arm) or download the merged package.
There are 54 swatches, with two different opacities for some swatches. I tried to give y'all as many combinations as possible, so there's just face tattoos, just chest, just arms, etc and then every single tattoo is also available individually. After calculating the math, that gives you... a fuck ton of combinations probably
for a full preview of all tattoos click HERE. I don't know why I made him naked, my brain did not realize I could show all of the tattoos with him in undies.... I blurred it i promise.
I will most likely never make tattoos again because this didn't spark joy BUT I am so happy with how these came out and I really hope y'all can get some use out of them. Please tag me or mention me if you use them so I can see!
CREDITS:
I definitely did not draw any of these tattoos. All credit goes to gold chain arts, tattoo_paine, maximumblack, woodcutter fonts, malflashtattoo, and simlish fonts found through franzillasims' masterpost right here.
thank you to the lovely and amazing jessie @bibliosims for testing!
also huge shoutout to @/vyxated for the perfect cas background and lighting, idk what i'd do without it now and the mirror background made taking this preview so easy! thank you so much!
DL:
IINDIVIDUAL: SFS / MF
MERGED: SFS / MF
@alwaysfreecc @mmfinds ❤️
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