Prompt: getting home from work (provided by @carly-they-jepsen)
The cottage is quiet when Shane gets back from the photo shoot.
He hadn’t wanted to go back to Ottawa, not in the middle of his summer, but it had been a good opportunity, and he hadn’t quite figured out how to say no. He scrubs at his eyes, lashes still tacky with mascara, as he sighs and slips off his shoes.
“I’m back!” he shouts down the hall, but the announcement is hardly necessary. Ilya is on him the moment the door is shut, mouth pressing against the soft, sensitive skin beneath Shane’s jaw.
It’s good to be home.
in love with Max reducing high-performance athlete Daniel into a pile of mush on the bed. Daniel’s definitely moving slower the next day on the court.
Anonstie, you know wassup. There's no way that that doesn't stay with you, you know?
Daniel in media all day: 🥴😵💫😵💫😵💫
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7
Pt 6?
"Oi!"
Daniel snapped out of his daydream, grunting as a tennis ball hit his stomach.
"Sorry. My bad." He coughed and readied himself behind the line. He shook his head to dislodge the dirty dirty thoughts that have been following him all day.
Last night with Max was amazing. Way more of a good time than he had anticipated.
Way way more.
He hadn't been folded like a lawn chair in a while. His body was still buzzing, his hole was feeling phantom thrusts at this point. Was that the breeze, it felt like Max's breath on his neck.
"DR!"
"Shit, fuck. Sorry" Daniel shook his shoulders out and bounced in place for a second.
He'd been spacing out all day, having all sorts of sex flashbacks at very inconvenient moments. Luckily he was able to save it in his media duties this morning. Making jokes in various interviews that he was reliving winning the Australian Open, which always opened the floor to follow up questions about the same then brought the interview back to whatever original question they'd asked him about the French.
Blake noticed though. Blake always noticed. And he wasn't happy with Daniel's distraction. He'd told Michael, like a fuckin' narc. And now here he was in punishment. Today was supposed to be a gaddamn rest day or whatever.
He'd already run fifty million laps, did too many burpees and now, well he wasn't paying attention now was he.
His body this morning was pleasantly achy and sore. Now though, now, he needed an ice bath something fierce. These fuckers.
"Maybe you shouldn't meet up with Max until after the Open, if this is gonna be what we have to deal with." Daniel heard Michael mutter exasperatedly.
"Whoa whoa there. Maybe we shouldn't be so hasty." Daniel chimed in. It wasn't that bad, there was no need to make such sweeping judgments.
"DR, you've been biting your lip and blushing all fuckin' day. You just daze off." Blake glared.
"You've been distracted as all fuck, and you keep reaching for your phone." Michael raised a brow judgingly.
Ok maybe it was so bad. Yikes on a bike.
"Jesus Christ we've never seen you so dick whipped."
"It's great that you got some. But can we not have it interfere with your season?"
"Ok ok so maybe, I kinda sorta am dickmatized." Daniel offered, placatingly. "It won't affect the Open. I promise."
"It better fuckin' not." Blake narrowed his eyes, fingers pointed. Daniel didn't want to disappoint his team. They worked too hard for this. He worked too hard for this. He can't be distracted now. Not by some guy. Even though he was hot as fuck and built like an absolute unit and his tongue felt so good and he already seemed to figure out how Daniel liked to be fucked an-
"Jesus H Macy!" Micheal threw his hands up and walked off the court.
The power rangers/kim possible theme went off in his bag.
Daniel smiled at Blake's annoyance, embarrassed. Just a little. He really got it bad.
Lando found Daniel after the whirlwind of his Imola podium
wc: 474
⧞⧞
”There you are!” Lando exclaimed, a bounce in his steps as he lessen the distance between him and Daniel.
Who already changed from his race suit and an added layer of the McLaren black coat. Hand in the pocket.
The various shade of tireness are displayed on both of their faces. While Lando has the seemingly permanent smile in his face, Daniel’s smile is more subdued and veiled in slight frustration and guilt.
Lando still has his trophy in his hand, Harry is nowhere to be seen — presumably arranging some pit lane celebration. Daniel has Blake by his side and a few of his engineers, circling around to discussed what has been.
With Lando’s approach, one by one they slowly leave Daniel to himself, therefore lending the two a private time before they’re thrust back into the swarm of cameras and ubiquitous interviews. Tom offered a nod to Lando before one last squeeze to Daniel’s shoulder.
“Hey champ.” Daniel straightened his stance and drinks in the sight of Lando. Wrapped in the haze of delight and all the exuberant sensation that came from a podium celebration.
“Oh boy, i think your long absence from the podium has made you forgot there Danny. Champ is p1.” Lando chided, head tilted up now that he’s leaning into the wall and Daniel slowly crowded his space.
Daniel laughs, the sound reverberate deep in his chest. Like it’s dragging pebbles with every inhale into his lungs. Yet he laughs when Lando is dripping with so much high energy that the smaller frame can’t really contain inside.
What else can Daniel do other than absorbs it all.
So he laughs, until Lando circles his arms low on Daniel’s waist. The small p3 trophy still stubbornly held between his palm. Lando buries his face into Daniel’s chest and inhale slowly. Eyes closed as he savour the moment. As if time has stopped.
“I need this so much.” Lando muttered. Burying his face further into the rise and fall of Daniel’s chest.
There’s a warmer impression crawling from where Lando’s arm are placed. Daniel savour it, letting the warmth turns his blue and grey into the flush much resembling the high point in Lando’s cheek. The remnants of a succesful race.
“You have your trophy there, what more could you need?” Daniel jokingly said, which met with disagreeing noises from Lando. He tighten his grip around Daniel’s waist. Some part of the trophy nudges itself to Daniel’s back but he pushed the feeling aside.
“I also need you. This. A hug.” Lando mumbled. There’s noises coming from the end of the hallways. The McLaren’s team slowly making their way to the pit lane. The celebration is about to start.
it wont be that stupid love at first sight shit, it’ll be that stupid best friend trope where he doesnt even know he’s in love until you start talking about some other boy.
he’s probably so angry and so confused why you would need someone else besides him. who could cook better than him? who could protect you better than him? and who could fill the gaps in your hand better than him? definitely not some random guy. did he know your favorite color? your fears? your favorite 3 am snack when you’re sad? fuck stupid boys that dont know your skin care routine, you deserved better.
but bakugou doesn’t even know he’s in love until the jealousy sets in and rattles each bone in his body when he sees you smiling at someone else. his eyebrows furrow, his hands curl up into fists, and he finds himself gritting his teeth. then he realizes he wants you.
he wants you to look up at him with those warm eyes. he wants you to flash that smile in his direction- the one that makes his stomach flutter and the color pink flush on his cheeks. and he even wants to feel your lips against his for once. how would your first kiss with him be? soft? your lips sure looked like it. fuck, they would probably make his knees weak and his brain turn to goo.
bakugou would probably try to keep his distance from you. the concept of love is something so strange- so foreign to him and honestly, it scares him.
so he ignores you for a week.
maybe two.
and you get fed up. where the fuck is your best friend? he wasn’t the type to avoid you when something went wrong. so you search high and low for him. he runs away when you corner him in the kitchen. when you catch him in his room, he’s busy studying. and when you attempt to talk to him during lunch, he walks off.
so you do what any sane person would do.
you pop up in the bathroom when he’s taking a shit.
at first he’s yelling at you to fuck off but you stand outside his stall arms crossed against your chest, he wasn’t getting away from you this time. and you go off on him. you’re firing off questions one right after another.
why was he ignoring you? why didn’t he reply to your texts? your calls? did you do something wrong?
but instead of a response, he flushes the toilet and goes to wash his hands.
you’re thinking he’ll probably run away again, maybe ignore you for another week. but the next words that come out of his mouth has you flustered.
“you..like me?” you repeat.
and he’ll look at you with those crimson eyes and that same scowl that never left his face.
“so what?” he barks.
you be standing there, a little smile crawling on your face while he grows flustered by the moment. mineta walks into the bathroom. there’s a stupid ass grin on his face but before you could even open your mouth to say something- he’s thrown halfway across the hall and bakugou’s running off again.
hes not really good at emotions but when you run after him he’s pleasantly surprised. he can hear the pitter patter of your footsteps behind and it’s matching his heartbeat.
“bakugou.” you say. the way you say his name so effortlessly it makes his heart crawl up to his throat and the butterflies in his stomach swarm.
but it gets even worse when you tell him you like him too.
those butterflies won’t go away for a solid week. actually, he’s not sure if they ever go away. because even on your wedding day they make an appearance.
Hogwarts!AU + Enemies To Lovers + “fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. fuck.” + Grimsoka jk unless Honestly anyone go ham on this choose whoever or whatever ship
"You turned him into a teacup?!" Ahsoka exclaims, snatching the delicate piece of china off the table."This is why I never do school work with a Slytherin!" She glares at the girl sitting across from her.
“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. Fuck!” Grim hollers, running her hands through her hair. "I wasn't trying to turn Anakin into a tea cup! I just wanted him to fall asleep for a few hours!" She looks away, ashamed. "I- I just wanted to talk to you without him hovering over our shoulders?
"Why?"
"W-well. Because I like you and I just wanted to spend some time to get to know you. Thats all." Grim grabs her back and off through the doors of the Great Hall, leaving Ahsoka confused at the Gryffindor Table, clutching her older brother the teacup.
It was in her seventh year when Sakura began to suspect there was something that divided her from her peers, something that had gone unnoticed by her mother, her father, the village elders, and all her older and younger friends alike. The only one who noticed might have been Baba-Tsunade who came to the village with the caravan and healed their sick and tended to the ill before drinking her fill and moving on to the next needy town.
“Don’t you hear the horn on the hill? Why am I the only one? What’s wrong with me?” Sakura asked in tears one day when the teasing from her friends had moved her to flee.
“There is nothing wrong with you,” Sakura’s mother would tell her even as her father took steps to close up the windows and doors against the sounds they couldn’t hear. “There’s no horn, there’s nothing over the hills, don’t listen to the wicked wind.”
“It’s not the wind,” Sakura cried, loud and angry. “I know the difference, it’s not the wind. I hear a horn! Where is it coming from?”
They didn’t let her out as punishment for the disrespect. But after her disciplining was finished, they continued to keep her close and would usher her back indoors if she ever looked too long at the hills, as if listening to something.
The next spring when Tsunade came Sakura’s parents paid her with their wedding wine to take Sakura out of the village as an apprentice healer-something Tsunade had never done before and sworn to never do while both drunk and sober.
The reason Sakura was an exception had less to do with the expensive drink and more to do with the story Sakura’s parents told the traveling woman. The story din’t make to Sakura who had been set aside in another room could only hear snippets through the floorboards.
“-Can hear his horn so she can’t stay here. What’ll it be like when she’s of age to fall sway to his thrall? -only a matter of time before we’re ruined.”
So in the morning, without ceremony or extended farewells, Sakura was packed up into Tsunade’s cart and driven out of town. The horn blew louder than it ever had, sounding almost desperate as the cart rolled on, further and further out of it’s reach.
“What was it?” Sakura asked once they were beyond the hill’s sight. Her home was less than a speck in the distance but her hunger hurt more than her sadness. She knew better than to mourn a family who couldn’t love her more than their comforts.
Tsunade didn’t turn around to look back, but kept her eyes on the scruffy ears of her gray mare. The road was long and softly winding down to the sea.
“You think it was something?”
“I know it was.”
Tsunade whistled low in mock surprise. “You know so much so why ask me, girlie? Why don’t you take a guess?”
“Was it…” Sakura swallowed her fear and licked her lips before finishing her words, “was it a demon kin? Is that why I could hear it, cause I’m evil-born?”
“Of course you would come to such a conclusion with a cut off community like that one,” Tsunade snorted. “Sure sounds like some sort of devil story, don’t it? But if I could hear it too what would that make me?”
“You’re too kind to be evil. You heal all the people…even the ones who are mean to you. You can’t be a demon’s spawn.”
“Then you’re not a demon’s spawn, though your parents were a rotten lot they were still human. You’re just one of the lucky ones. You have a ear for the world’s neighbors. Ever hear of them?”
In answer Sakura pulled herself up onto the bench seat behind the horse and held on whenever the cart bustled. She looked up at Tsunade expectantly.
“I’ll take that as a no. That’s to be expected. More than one court still pays tithe to the hells, but humans have no moral superiority in that department, so we’ve no ground to stand on when condemning the good neighbors. The horn you hear is blown by one of their knights searching for those like you.”
“Why?”
Tsunade grinned and reached down between her legs to grab at the wine flask. “You tell me. Give me your best guess.”
“I don’t like guessing.”
“I don’t like doing all the work, get used to it.”
Sakura pouted, but relented without arguing the point further. “Is it to abduct them and steal them away, for food?”
“Sometimes. They’re looking for champions, have been for centuries. You follow the call and there’s just another game for you to play. They’re a picky lot though, so only the ‘touched’ can hear ‘em anymore.”
“What’s so bad about playing games?” Sakura liked games. She was good at them too, she was fast and strong for her age and she was clever when she wanted to be.
“What happens when you lose a game?” Tsunade asked instead of answering.
Sakura thought of when she would play fox and rabbits with the other children, again and again, looping into new rounds with different children being foxes once everyone was found. “You start over.”
“That would make sense for children, but in their lands there is no ‘next game’ for the losers. A loser in their game is as useful as a chicken that won’t lay. What does your father do when a hen is too old for eggs?”
Sakura knew the answer without having to speak it aloud. She had enjoyed the meat dinner more than once when one of their hens grew too old to lay. The reality settled like a weight in her stomach. “If it’s so bad, why would anyone want to risk playing a game like that?”
“Maybe one day you’ll discover an answer for yourself.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Only that we have many more miles to go. My sister will worry if I’m any later.”
-
Word Count 1009 (I couldn’t trim those last 9 words so I fail.)
The base of her palm holds the most warmth, naturally, but the farther her hand extends, the more frigid it gets ; landing to the fingertips that are marked red from the invisible ice.
Some may say it has to do with Chloe.
The way that Max touches her heart in the fondest of ways--dating back to the times when they pretended to be pirates from centuries beyond, up to now--the present that holds the days of running away from the many pasts that still haunt them.
The ice berg that was once Chloe’s heart when Rachel left--or the one that she intentionally planted there to keep her guard up--is now thawed by the (initial) warmth of Max’s fingertips ; shaping it back to it’s original form ; the one that etches the details of their innocent memories full of pirate lingos and dragons.
She has the tendency of soaking up the hurt of those around her, tending to them with the upmost care, burrowing herself with their burdens and replacing her warmth with their bitter, until that melts away too.
She has always been the touchy-feely type ; touching with purpose, and in this case, it’s to melt the cold.
Not sure if I like it, but this not about me😅 so here we are Tennis AU;
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5
Part 4!
Daniel collapsed onto his back, star fishing on the court in the shade. His white shorts rode up to show off his pulsing sweaty thighs. His leg hairs were pressed down and slick. His tattoos glistened.
He'd been running drills for too long, if you asked Micheal (don't), he'd say it wasn't long enough. They'd been at it all day, running through their program steadily.
His phone went off in his duffle.
"Is that the power rangers theme?" Micheal paused and raised a brow.
"Kim Possible actually, rude." Daniel pointed his racquet limply in Michael's general direction.
"They're the same tone." Blake called out, chin tucked to his chest, typing away on his phone in the shade. "Doesn't explain why you've gone back to it though."
"It's Max's tone." Daniel was grinning, all teeth. "When my phone's like off silent anyway."
"We allow you on one extracurricular and you come back with a boyfriend." Michael teased throwing a tennis ball at him.
"hey!" Daniel cried out and shifted his hips, turning onto his side to avoid it. Micheal threw another and Daniel lifted the racquet to lob it away with a cheer.
The phone went off again and Daniel scrambled up to get it but was blocked by a new barrage from Michael. He ran off laughingly in the opposite direction to 'safety'.
"Nope." Micheal popped the p with his lips, a cheeky grin present. "We're not done yet, you can check your sexts after."
Daniel whined, pouting his lips and batting his eyes at his trainer.
"Save the pretty eyes for Max, now on mark let's go asshole."
"you can send him a pic of your legs after." Blake looked up quickly with a smirk before going back to his phone.
Daniel grumbled but prepared himself for work anyway. The quicker he got through this, the quicker he could see what Max sent him.
They'd been texting since the night of the beach party. They had spent the rest of the afternoon together, chatting away at a table mostly in their own world.
Max had introduced him to a few people on his team and a couple other drivers who had passed through. It was a great time getting to know Max the man outside of the paddock and around people he felt comfortable with. He was very funny, he made Daniel laugh breathlessly the whole afternoon. They bantered relentlessly, creating and extending jokes about everything.
That was two days ago, Max had escorted him back to the flat he and his team were renting and they exchanged numbers. Daniel kissed him at the door and ducked into the apartment quickly to hide his blush. Not the suavest move, but Max made his brain stop working.
Since then, they've been texting when Daniel wasn't getting his ass kicked by his best friend slash trainer. Max appreciated his training camp and he tried to avoid texting during the day knowing Daniel was busy and needed to focus.
They had dinner plans tonight, so realistically the texts could have been confirming their date or rain checking.
That thought stopped him suddenly and he missed an easy volley.
"Focus DR!" Micheal called, calmly sending over another ball. Daniel shook his head physically to dislodge the thought. He'd think of it all after.
They went on until he was gasping for breath, only stopping after Daniel declared a strike, demanded a union and then plopped himself bodily beside Blake who grimaced. He barely dodged the impending wet hug.
Daniel grasped for his phone, swiping away all the calendar notifications and social media messages to find the one he wanted. He was single minded, completely ignoring the freeze pop electrolyte drink that Michael chucked at him. It bounced off of his sweaty face.
He opened the text thread from Max;
Max V 🥵
Are we still on for 8?
Oops, sorry. Tell Michael not to be mean.
"Max says not to be mean to me Mikey, he's a world champ, you should listen to him." Daniel called out, grinning in delight. Micheal snorted a laugh. Daniel texted back
8 is still good for me. Mike's being evil as always. I swear he gets off on suffering😢
Daniel tore open the freeze pop with his teeth and sucked greedily at the cold drink. His phone went off again in his hands.
Max V 🥵
Poor thing. I'll have to take care of you then, I'll pick you up at 7:30.
Daniel tried to ignore the flutter in his chest at the thought of Max taking care of him.
Gonna show me a good time? 👀
Max V 🥵
Do you want to sleep over?
Daniel barely managed to keep from choking, the empty freeze pop plastic feel out of his mouth. He looked around swiftly and shifted in his seat, suddenly full of energy. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest now, a thrumming in his veins that wasn't there before.
He tilted his phone away from Blake's potential gaze, completely regretting sitting so close now. He bit his lip, unable to pinch his grin.
