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inkk-tv · 1 month ago

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[ ꜰᴏᴏᴛʙᴀʟʟ ᴘᴜʙ ɢᴏʟꜰ : ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ]

He can hear it in her voice, wants to hear more of it. “Yeah?” “You know,” Lucy’s got this smile on her face, something a little coy, teasing even. “If this wasn’t for a video, and we were on a night out, I’d probably take you to the bathroom to snog.”

in which: Arthur strggles with the will to move on.

5k words [ part two ] [ masterlist ] [ unseen (coming soon... ]

[warnings: excessive drinking, sexual innuendos and sexually explicit content]

Arthur doesn’t think he’s been this gone since uni, when he lost all his muscle mass after quitting boxing and pints were one two pound each. The walk between one beer garden to the next is nowhere near as sobering as it felt at age nineteen with worn down trainers scratching against the pavement.

It’s got him dizzy, that light headed floaty feeling that only arrives after at least six standards and a distinct lack of food.

Starting the day hungover did him no favours, he’d vomited up all the food (and the first two drinks) he’d consumed at pub number two. Somehow, he’s still gone. Probably the empty stomach and all of one glass of water’s contribution.

Pub seven came with another beer garden and the fresh air helped immensely. So does the pot plant at the end of the table- an emergency puke spot that’s a better alternative than the astro turf. Arthur doesn’t quite manage to snag the seat on the end and he’s not close enough to chundering to ask for it but if worse comes to worst, he can lean past Lucy to puke.

She'd probably kill him if he vomited on her. Infact, Lucy’s staring at him like she knows he’s thinking about it.

“You’re so gone.” A smile cracks her lips as she talks, leaning in a little closer to inspect his face and the semi-vacant look in his eyes.

Arthur feels his cheeks flare up in a blush. He’s not a prude or a soy-boy by any means, but it’s been a while since he’s had a girl that was as pretty as Lucy in such close proximity. His last few nights out have been soured by everyone’s attempts to get Chris to chat up a girl, which leaves a bitter taste in his mouth at the reminder of how painfully straight his best mate is. Then again, it is Arthur’s fault for going and ending up completely head over heels for straight man, an experience he became well acquainted with in his uni days.

Fancying Chris was an old hat for him, Arthurs had the better half of a decade to get acquainted with the misery of it. Devastatingly enough, his type is painfully cookie cutter. Blonde, around five-five or five-six, athletic and able to dish it out as good as they can take it.

So he’d always sort of strayed away from Lucy Bell. She’s the right shade of pretty that scares him off, not keen to make a fool of himself by making it obvious how fit he thinks she is. That’s gone out the window today.

“George is gonna take me home to sleep on his couch.” he offers, holding his phone for her to see the open text thread. “He’s worried I’m going to choke on my own vomit.”

“He’s so good.” Lucy goes to grab his phone, and Arthur hands it over easily.

Her fingers are a little clumsy with it, but she manages to open the imessage widgets and send George a game of connect four.

She does that a lot, Arthur’s noticed, the little games on her phone. He’d watched her do the wordle in the park while they waited for the production team to finish getting sorted. The evidence of their naughts and crosses games are littered up the insides for their arms- her left and his right. Now she’s started up another one with George.

Arthur wonders if she knows chess. He doesn’t ask though. “If you lose, George is gonna think I've fallen off.”

“One connect four loss won’t kill you.” She says, rolling her eyes.

“Hurt my pride maybe.”

Lucy tuts, like he’s given the wrong answer. “Well don’t worry, I never let George win. Even when we’re drunk.”

“Is connect four a normal thing for you when you’re drunk?”

She shrugs. “Gotta get the boys interested somehow.”

“Don’t think you need connect four for that, Luce.”

He must have gotten it right that time, because, although still looking down at his phone screen, some semblance of a smile appears. Smothered by the way she bites at her bottom lip to contain it but most definitely there. “Flattery gets you everywhere, Arthur.”

Flirting is a bad idea. They’re both fairly drunk and the last time he’d been this drunk and tried to flirt with a girl, was Ibeza when he told the story of getting a hard on from a surfboard and having a wank in the ocean. Lucy still has a somewhat respectable opinion of him, no need to go and drag it through the mud.

But at the same time, he can’t not flirt with her.

There’s an opportunity presenting itself here, something in her words. He can hear it plain as day, she fancies him too. Arthur’s gotten better at picking it over the years, what it means when a girl sits close enough to press their legs together, fiddles with his fingers or asks to compare hand sizes. (Flo, his flatmate at the time, had to explain that last one to him after he’d left some poor girl at a club, not realising she was interested in him at all)

He can hear it in her voice, wants to hear more of it. “Yeah?”

“You know,” Lucy’s got this smile on her face, something a little coy, teasing even. “If this wasn’t for a video, and we were on a night out, I’d probably take you to the bathroom to snog.”

He sits up a little straighter, the way he always does when a compliment is lobbed at him, brain playing catch up to make his posture better, his jaw a little tighter, presenting the best version of himself. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She repeats with a smile, looking him over. “But I get the vibe you’re not that kind of guy.”

“I can be.” Arthur says, feeling the need to assure her that he would, if she showed up on future nights out and asked. “Depends on the person.”

Lucy purses her lips. “Waiting on someone special, are you?”

He can’t help but glance back to where Chris is stood, chattering to the camera and his production team.

“Ah.” Lucy lets out, nodding her head a little as she connects the dots. “It’s Chris isn’t it?”

“It’s not- I mean, I’m not hung up on him or anything,” he scrambles to defend himself, because he's never really had to explain it to anyone else besides his older sister, and he’s never had to lay it out drunk before. “But I feel bad sometimes, talking to people at some bar or club when I still kind of fancy my best mate.”

“I don’t blame you. He’s easy to fancy.”

And Arhtur’s learnt to spot it, so he hears the way she says it. The same way she’d been speaking to him. Only this time, she wasn’t talking about him.

“No,” Arthur looks at her for a moment, as she squints at the screen to read whatever text has pinged though amidst the game she seems heavily invested in. Something that feels like disbelief hammers about in his chest. “Surely not.”

Lucy glances up to give him a flat look. “You are literally the last person who can judge me.”

“You’ve got a better chance than me.” He offers, because yeah, she does. Lucy’s proper fit, she’s funny and she’s smart. If she went up to Chris on any given day and asked him out for coffee, there’s no doubt in Arthur’s mind he’d say yes. “At least he likes women.”

She bites at the inside of her cheek as another message pings though, Arthur’s phone buzzing silently. “I put too much effort into getting over him to backtrack now.”

“See, I saved your pride.” She says with a smile, sliding his phone across the table to display the connect four game, a little crown spinning around on the screen.

He sort of wants to say something else.

Encourage her to go for it. But part of him is selfish, wants to keep her to himself. Maybe if he does that mindset she’s built will rub off on him and Arthur can claim some of it for himself.

Arthur doesn’t want to backtrack.

It’s in her eyes when she looks at Chris, the resignation, the decision to get over it. He wonders if there’s truth to it, if this really was a night out, and Lucy had spent an hour drawing naughts and crosses up the inside of his arm, that she truly would snog him in the bathroom. If he’d take her up on the offer.

He could fancy her, if they got talking one day.

Maybe at one of George’s house parties. She used to go to those.

Or at a club. Arthur could imagine her there. She’s the kind of girl that would have guys scrambling to prove themselves, peacocking about and buying her drinks to win her favour, wanting nothing more than to take her to a club bathroom, push her up against the wall and lick into her mouth.

Maybe she’d let them push her to her knees, like she’d done to him an hour ago. Maybe she’d go home with them and let them kiss her into the mattress. He’s seen comments about it, when she features in videos, what people on the internet thinks happens behind closed doors or how they reckon they would pull her.

Arthur doesn’t think that sort of thing suits her though.

Lucy’s the kind of girl that should be treated right.

If it was him, he’d ask for her number, maybe kiss her goodbye before leaving- so she knew he meant it. Bring her flowers before the first date, hold her hand and buy her coffee in the morning. Arthur would work for it, work for her.

For a few moments, as everyone else settles around the table, he entertains the idea of it, going out with Lucy Bell. She would be fun to waste time with, Arthur can envision her curled up on his couch watching a nature documentary, her head in his lap or back to his chest. Maybe she’d go to the theater with him, or to see the new exhibitions at the museum.

The two of them could have fun, be good together.

He stews on it while Cal dishes out shot glasses to them all, smells his own with caution. One more would finish him- It would probably finish off any of the English team. Lucy’s a little more giggly than she had been earlier in the day, and the little nose scrunch of displeasure she does has been appearing much more frequently. She’s getting cuter by the minute.

There’s only two fake shots in the mix and luckily he’s been handed one. Maybe it’s because Cal can see how gone Arthur is already and is preemptively slowing down his alcohol intake. But skipping one shot probably won’t make all that much of a difference when they’ve still got two pubs to go.

It takes his brain a few seconds to catch up with the fact he’s supposed to trick the other team and cringes at the ‘burn’ of it a smidge too late. Becky knows him well enough to spot it and they come out of the challenge three-nil, to Germany.

The penalty is a choice between three points or three shots and Chris speaks for all three of them when he decides, as captain, that they’ll take the points.

Harry takes Lucy inside with the aim to get some for the six of them. Arthur watches them go, she’s wearing these heels, chunky platform style ones with delicate little silver buckles that are just high enough that he’s worried she might tumble. She’s steady though. He wonders if a few more standards will change that, if by the time they’re all ready to head home, she’s gonna be the one needing piggy backs instead of handing them out.

His phone pings with a text. It’s from George, asking how he’s drunk enough to misspell every word in his texts but still win connect four. It’s accompanied by a rematch.

Georgie Poo [connect four]

Arthur 2 Idon’t think i can wein Luce har my phone

Georgie Poo luce? as in Lucy Bell?

Arthur 2 Yeah< Shes prety gon too Still betterr off than me rn< Cna we take her home too?<

Georgie Poo you don’t mean my house right? she hates it. too dirty. and Alex is here. they don't get on.

Arthur 2 No nono< Liek ehr flat.< Don’t want her onthe tube alone.<

Georgie Poo how noble of you, king Arthur.

He almost tells George to fuck off but it might not come across right over text and if George does actually fuck off, then Arthur will have no one sober to keep him sane and offer advice when he inevitably considers doing something stupid, like asking Lucy Bell to snog in the bathroom.

Admittedly, Arthur does give the game of connect four a go as Chris settles down next to him, more so that he doesn’t stare and inspect every aspect of him that somehow managed to pull Arthur and apparently Lucy Bell at some point.

“Look at these biceps man…” Chris murmurs, pushing up the sleeve of Arthur’s jersey. His hands are softer than they used to be- the change in focus at the gym evident though less calluses and crack on his palms.

He licks a thick stripe up the skin of Arthur’s arm. “Oh my god.”

It doesn't get much of a reaction, Chris’ been licking him all afternoon. All their lives. Arthur, for a while, used to think it was a them thing. That it was just something about him that made Chris want to sink his teeth into or run his tongue over to taste. He knows better nowadays of course, and if he didn’t the accumulating tally marks on Lucy’s arm would be telling.

“Such little fat on there.” He pinches and pulls at the skin of Arthur’s arm. Picking the next box in connect four is a little harder, hearing the praise, knowing Chris’ eyes are on him and only him.

The bite comes half a second later, and it’s enough to actually get Arthur pulling away. “Oh my god.”

Nowadays, the biting is so common that it doesn’t even make Arthur’s stomach flutter anymore. And when it’s time to leave the pub, and Chris hauls him up, arms looped under his and braced on his chest, murmuring about how good Arthur smells, he realises he is far too drunk to unpack it.

So many compliments had been lobed at him in the last few hours. They swirl around his head in a dizzying storm. It’s got him stumbling.

He’s not lying when he walks out of a store, a hundred and twenty quid poorer with a pair of shoes in hand that aren’t even for him and says, “Financially and emotionally, I’m in ruins.”

But he’s on camera and there’s not a whole lot of time to pour his guts out on the pavement, cry about how he feels guilty for wanting to ask out a girl he’s only just met and still being hung up on his best mate.

Looking at her, feeling his stomach flutter when she laughs, it’s different to checking out a girl at some club. This is Lucy, she’s not just some chick, she’s so intricately woven into the lives of his friends, and how she’s not managed to end up in his before, is a mystery.

It seems that everyone knows her.

He knows she’s Geroge’s gym buddy, and that she works in the fellas offices with more than half of the UK Youtube scene. Evidently she’s got some kind of friendship with Chris- he talks about her fondly, with nicknames and stories- and they must have spent enough time for her to get hung up on him for a while.

“Do you fancy her?” Becky’s question sort of throws him, not just because of the implication, but more so because he hadn’t even realised she’d appeared at his side.

He blinks a few times, slinging his arm over her shoulder, more on instinct than anything. “What?”

“Lucy, Do you fancy her?” Becky asks, slurring a little with a smirk on her face, like she already knows the answer already. “She thinks you’re ‘well fit’.”

She makes air quotations when she says it, and Arthur wonders where she possibly would have heard Lucy say that. Unless she’s kidding. “Is that a direct quote?”

“Oh yeah. When you were opening up a new overdraft to buy Harold shoes, he asked for one word to describe you.”

“Well-fit is two words.”

“She said it’s hyphenated.”

Yeah, that seems pretty on brand for what he knows of Lucy Bell.

The question is dropped though when Becky stumbles over her next word and he lays into her for it, sending the pair of them spiraling into laughter as she continues to butcher it.

Further ahead, he can see Chris and Stephen in some sort of playful scrap. Today’s been a good day for Chris.

It’s been an iffy few months, some days where he seems like he’s on top of the world, others where he doesn't leave or let anyone in his flat. Arthur’s been worried about him, most of their friends have been. He’s moving in with Gorge and Arthur Hill in a few months, the three of them flat hunting every other week. Everyone agrees that it will be good for him, to get out of the home he shared with Shannon.

He doesn’t talk about it; the break up. Everyone’s walking around it like broken glass, the remnants of Chris’ love life splintered and shattered on the floor. Nobody even knows why it happened. He’s not said anything to Harry, Will or Arthur- just avoids the elephant in the room.

For some odd reason, he seems okay with the jokes, but any serious talk, he shuts down quickly.

There’s a group of them that’s pretty dedicated to keeping his spirits up. Arthur has been ending up at pubs and bars most weekends with Chris, George and Arthur Hill. Will and Lucy make efforts to check in with him at the office- even his production manager Jess gives them updates, although they are admittedly becoming less frequent now that it’s been a good six months. Even Harry drops by his flat once a week or so.

Things might be different if he wasn’t so weird about the whole thing. Six years was a long time, but being so shut down about it all, even after half a year, was worrying.At least he doesn’t seem hung up on it.

Arthur wants to move on.

He doesn't want to be holding out hope for the same guy. Not for a seventh year in a row. Analysing every little comment and action amounts to nothing everytime a hinge notification appears on Chris' lock screen.

He'd tried it himself, for a few weeks. It was too weird, to read a comprehensive list of character traits and decide if he could like them a few dates down the line. None of them ever felt right. With chat that was a little too dry or an over-fascination with the title 'youtuber'. Tinder hadn't worked out for him in uni, so why Arthur thought Hinge would now, he's not entirely sure.

Meeting someone organically has always been better for him, at a bar or in some club. The problem was that Chris' latest ventures as a single man meant he actually went out with them all. Nights that used to end with a girls number in his phone or his legs tangled in someone else's sheets now conclude with an uber home to someone's flat- whoever's closest- and passing out on the couch.

It's hard to chat someone up when Chris is sitting at the same table, a physical benchmark of all Arthur's preferences that he can't help but compare them to.

Sometimes it's worse, when he goes to Chris' flat and there’s a ripped off club-band on the kitchen counter. Or when he shows up to filming and the ink stain of a club stamp on the back of his hand. To know that Chris is going out, looking for someone to be his other half in places Arthur isn't. It's as much of an answer to his affections as Arthur would get.

He wonders if it pricks at Lucy the same way. The club stamps Chris never cares to wash off, telling of his night, lingering when she sees him in the office.

The thought sticks in his mind as they finish off the last pint of the afternoon, sending Chris off as their champion of drunk keepy-uppies and watching Stephen stack it and effectively eat pavement.

Lucy leans into him as she laughs warm and solid against his side, a steady presence that reminds him of what he could have.

She’d made it clear she was interested, Left the ball in his court.

At the next pub, whenlucy heads inside to find herself another glass of water, Arthur makes vague excuses of needing a piss and follows her inside to the bar.

She’s leant up against it, one foot planted on the ground and the other crossed over it, tapping against the wooden floorboard. There’s a cup of water in her hand, a pink and white striped straw poking between her lips as she drinks it down. She smiles around it as he joins her at the bar.

“You know that thing you said about snogging?”

Lucy turns to look at him. “Hmm?”

“Would you?” Arthur swallows thickly. He might be about to make a fool of himself but it’s worth the risk. “Or was that just banter.”

“I would.”

Arthur can feel the blush rising on his cheeks and there’s a smile pulling at Lucy’s lips as she glances once out the door then back towards the bathroom sign.

Her hand is a little cold in his, from the half drunk glass he abandons on the bar. Arthur’s nerves are spiking but he goes, follows as she pushes the door to the women’s bathroom open to peek inside before turning and pulling him in by the hand.

He’s done this sort of thing before, in clubs, bars- once at the uni library- but never on a shoot. Then again, he’s never met someone quite like Lucy Bell.

She’s a vision, pretty blonde hair and dark green eyes blinking up at him as a blush blooms on her cheeks. Arthur finds the soft curve of her waist, hidden by the baggy jersey and pulls her in close, backing himself into the door. He’s a little stunned and very drunk but Lucy’s lips are so soft.

When he licks against them, she still tastes a little bit like the last pint they’d downed. She presses onto him, slides one hand up to cup his jaw and scratch at his stubble in a way that leaves his skin tingly, the other one settling against his chest.

Everything about it feels right. Lucy fits against him perfectly, and he can almost imagine doing this in his kitchen. Cooking something together and stealing kisses, snogging while it sits in the oven then again on the couch when they’re supposed to be watching a movie. He wants to kiss her into the mattress and fuck her propper, then maybe make her a cup of tea afterwards and hear about her day.

Lucy Bell isn’t the kind of girl you’re okay with only having once, and as she snogs him into the bathroom door, runs her tongue against the points of his canines, Arthur knows there’s no getting past her. Not now that he knows what he’d be missing. Pressed right up against him, a leg slotted between his as she presses as close as possible. Arthur kind of wants to turn her around, press her into the door, but he likes the way they’re stood a bit more, where he can hold her close by the hips, palm low at the skin of her thigh, just under her skirt hem.

She breaks the kiss to huff a breath or two and Arthur ducks his head to mouth along her jaw. A trail of kisses down her throat that stings with the taste of rose that must have dribbled off her lips a few pubs ago.

“Arthur,” She gasps out when he finds a spot along the hollow of her collarbone and nips at it. “I don’t have concealer on me.”

He’s lived with enough beauty influencers to know what she’s saying. Don’t leave marks. He presses one more kiss there that’s probably a little soft for what they’re doing. “Sorry.”

Then her lips are back on his and she bites at his bottom lip, slips her tongue past too.

It’s only when he tugs her that last half a step closer and feels the pressure of her against him, that Arthur realises he’s got a problem.

This time, he breaks the kiss, letting his head thunk back against the door. Lucy nips at his jaw and he’s forgotten how good it feels to be taken, wanted and desired. Feels too good.

“Luce,” Arthrur murmurs. “We gotta take a breather, or else this is gonna get away from me.”

Maybe it’s selfish, or dickish, to drag her close for one little grind against the tightened fabric of his shorts, but there’s a little hitch to her breath that makes something stupid like pride bloom in his chest.

“Yeah,” She says in nothing more than a whisper. “We are supposed to be doing something else right now.”

There’s no reason to be whispering, considering they’re alone in a room and the world outside is more than noisy enough to smother any noise coming from the bathroom. But keeping quiet, it lets Arthur believe that for a while, the world is just the two of them. Him and Lucy.

“Okay. Game plan. Thirty more seconds,” He interrupts himself to press another kiss against her lips. “Then you go back out. I'll sort myself out, then I'll join you.”

“‘Sort yourself out?’” She repeats with a teasing smile, leaning in to kiss at his jaw again. Then whispers against his skin, right by his ear “Arthur are you going to wank in the pub toilet?”

It wracks a shiver down his spine and Arthur has to tighten his grip on her hips to stop his hands wondering.

“No.” He replies, a little petulant, even though he’s not really sure how he’s going to dispel the semi that’s only getting worse.

She looks like she wants to ask another question, maybe tease him a little more but there's a shine to her lips- red and kiss bitten- and today, rather uncharacteristically, Arthur is an impatient man.

It’s a struggle to rein himself in, stick to the allotted thirty second time he’d set himself that they almost definitely go over, but there are people expecting them, and at least one more drink to down.

So Arthur detaches himself from her, sticks a kiss on her cheek that’s definitely too tender to come from the bloke she snogged in the pub bathroom, and watches her slip out the door. Eyes drifting over the skin, just under her skirt that swishes with each step, and the little crescent indents from his fingernails, dug into her skin. It’s possessive, the feeling that curls in his chest, even if he has no right to feel that, no reason for his stupid monkey brain to lay claim over her.

Arthur’s not sure how long he stands there before readjusting himself in his shorts and walking over to the sink, splashing some cold water on his face. He looks like he’s chundered.

But it’s not like another red card would make much of a difference, they're so far behind in the points it’s ridiculous. Although, Arthur isn’t all that saddened by the loss of a domino's pizza; he’s gained a lot more from today.

Even if he only does get to have Lucy Bell once, in a questionably clean pub bathroom, she's offered him something a bit more special than a snog.

Perspective.

Arthur’s not backtracking anymore, he’s not going to read into it when Chris goes for the fake lean-in and says, for the cameras, that they’d shag. He doesn’t have to be over Chris, but the willingness to move past it, that's what's important. It’s all out in the open with Lucy, she knows, and he guesses, that he sort of knows too. She’d fancied Chris, at some point. When that was, isn’t all too clear but evidently, it was sometime recently, If she was scared of backtracking at least.

Maybe they could be good for eachother, him and Lucy.

Thankfully he wore the black corduroy shorts today, initially it had been in case he spilt a drink on them but he’s learning that they do wonders to hide the outline of his dick. Arthur clicks the lock open on the door, prepared to go and pretend he’s a lot more sober than he is and definitely not half hard from snogging a girl, only to be met with a very unimpressed look. “Arthur Television.”

For a mortifying moment, he thinks Becky is here to scold him, for snogging a drunk Lucy and having the gaul to consider wanking about it. Thankfully, he’s been in the bathroom a lot longer than he realised.

“Get your arse out of there, or I’m going to piss myself. Use the mens next time, you dirty bastard." She all but shoves him out of the way, and hurries inside, leaving Arthur a blushing and apologetic mess in front of the two other women queuing up to use the bathroom.

Everyone’s outside and it doesn’t seem like anyone’s really missed them; he’s not sure if that’s worse or better than being caught.

He feels like he’s spotted a checkmate in three, having to bite his tongue and play it cool, not let anything slip. Lest someone find out how ecstatic he is.

[ part two ] [ masterlist ] [ unseen, coming soon... ]

ink note: let it be known, Lucy and Arthur's ship name is 'Bell-evision' and George is the one who coins it a few chapters down the line.

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if you would like to be added to the fic's tag list, let me know in an ask and you'll be tagged when each chapter goes up :) ]

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starrbright · 8 months ago

Text

Iwaizumi Hajime (30) Athletic Trainer

The man of all.

1k. all my y/n are afab, fat and of color. smut. wet and messy as usual. this man reeks of daddy kink and you all know it and it is known :D finally finished this, damn. hbd again, papi.

@seijhoeist & @iwaberry 💌

The heat of the summer is immediately nearing these days, everything easily goes warm and sticky, especially if one is out in the day.

And you're out in the day of Saturday, running errands. Despite you're comfortable in just your dark leggings and white short top, sweat has already been clinging to you even with the refreshing wind was present.

But an hour later more, you're back home and just as you're about to get out of your clothes in the bathroom—your lover arrives and almost immediately calls for you.

"Haji? What is it?" You voice as you walked out of the bathroom and meet him halfway in the living room.

The man just held your hand and pulled you to him, "Hey, baby." He greets before kissing you in haste with his other hand gliding everywhere your thick curves.

You don't question anything as you kiss him back just as eagerly, knowing how his work despite he so loves, could easily drain him a lot of times, even as working sometimes on weekend just like today. Though you'd be lying if you say you wouldn't mind continuing this instead of hopping in the shower and just cuddle with him after.

"How was today?" You ask in between his kisses as he remains his hold, pulling you with him to the couch.

"Okay." Haji barely replied, not wanting to stop kissing you at all, he sat down on the couch and simply placed you on his lap. Immediately groaning as your weight fell on him, all his energy regained and his sex needing relief.

You breathe out a little laugh, caressing his hair and he keeps groaning. "Don't you want a bath first?" You ask again, seeing how his shirt clings to him even more tightly, all the tension of his body you feel, wet patches because of his sweat, his hair tussled and thicker. Always glorious.

"You know I always prefer you like this." He mutters.

"I know, but you seem worn out." You counter plainly, holding his jaw gently to stop him from coming back for more kisses, a smile on you.

His other hand now holding your wrist that holds his face, pressing his lips firmly on your pulse. It does nothing but rile him up more, "And you're making it worse." He grunts, making you let out a surprised laugh as he bites your thumb.

"Haji!" You gasped and dragged as he suddenly flipped you to flop on the cushions and him above you. The man never fails to surprise and fluster you whenever he just manhandles you so effortlessly.

And each time of him being ruthless in his indulgence, you don't forget to remember to be glad that almost all the furniture in your shared apartment is big and strong enough for both of you. The amount of times he's fucked you on the dining table, the bathtub, you on top of the bathroom sink, on the couch you're both on right now, all of the chairs in your home, hell—even the bed.

He rolled his tongue on the inside of his cheek. "God, you always make me hungry." He keeps your wrists pinned besides your head, eyesd raking you all up. "Look so damn good." He heaves, tempted to just tear off your clothes right then and there.

"Hajime," you lightly groaned in called for him as he only stared at you and kept you in place.

Any fitting clothing always tempting him. Your plush belly so snug in your little top and thin cotton leggings ending on your waist, your mound getting more evident in your panties and leggings as he spreads your thighs further with his thigh.

But not yet. "You really went out dressed like this, huh?" then again you've worn clothes far more tantalizing more than a few times before—but, he's just too greedy in the moment more than usual.

"It's hotter these days," you rolled your eyes, more so in attempt to distract your rising arousal as he gazes at you so, already knowing what he wants and will do.

He only hums, ignoring that, and he doesn't need to check if your cunt is already wet, he knows it is. "A good thing for me." he sighs, before he pulled you up with him as he carried you, thighs hooked underneath his strong arms, keeping his mouth kissing yours.

Haji laid you down on the bed when he walked in your bedroom, hovering above you once more, still smothering you with his kisses. His hard on against his pants, heavy on the high of your thigh, now grinding himself against you.

You want to tease him of his eagerness, but that would be too hypocritical of you, given how you've missed him from not seeing each other since earlier morning when he had to leave that early for work, both of you too busy in the past week as well.

"I know what you're thinking." He says as you continue to kiss. Faint ragged breaths and moans mingling together while you're dry humping on each other, skins burning against your clothes.

You laugh, "Mhmnn, of course."

"You're annoying." He groans, his hands finding its way to your face, lips continuing to chase one another.

"I know."

Hajime grins then so breathlessly, his toothy smile you cherish, lips a mess. "I really hate you."

"I love you." You smile softly.

A growl he exhaled before he kisses you hard. Relieving yourselves by rubbing your desperate heats together for now. His cum seeping through his boxers and pants onto your leggings. "I really like this on you." he says, his right hand going down on your center that now had his cum on it, his thumb smearing it further against the thin fabric on your mound, rubbing your clit firmly just for a moment and giving you aftershocks of your high.

"Your cum or my leggings?" You moan against your laugh.

Haji smirks. "You know it's both."

You exasperated in your laughter still. "You're so annoying,"

"I love you." He joins your laughter as he kisses you again.

It's no sooner that his cock is out rubbing on your still clothed cunt. Left he was only of his black tank top, veiny hands and arms tensed, to his flexing biceps, dripping of his sweat everywhere. His hand firmly keeping his cock against your mound as he drags himself again and again, the spot there thickly soaked from his cum and his drool he spits. Your pussy melts from it all, the tightness of your panties and leggings as it's been straining on you. Haji's eyes never left you, continously revering the mess he's done. He's only taken off your bra, breasts and nipples dented on your shirt from how wet you are of your sweat, brown skin of your face, neck and arms glowing from the sun lighting through the windows with the sheen and drops of your sweat, to your lush body moving like water with each move he makes.

"Pretty girl," Haji praised, squeezing on your side as he picked up his pace a bit, giving what you both need to get high again a few long seconds more—and he's spilling his cum again.

There's no better way he can spend the torture of the heat, skins searing, drowning in sweat as he keeps fucking his cock on your cunt. "You're so fucking good for me." Hajime groans on your ear, his hard and broad chest heavy against your back with one arm around your neck as he fucks his cock between your fat thighs and sliding on your pussy. The sensation of the wetness of your leggings with your abundant flesh sucking him in is just heavenly. "Gonna give you all my cum later, doll. All of it in your pussy that Daddy owns, yeah?" he went on through his grunts, his left hand dragging down its way to trap your own on the sheets with his body following as he keeps thrusting in and out, fingers tightly twined together.

"Haji," you slurred, barely awake anymore, your right hand weakly going up to caress his hair.

"I'm here, love. I'm here." He'll always be.

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sinofwriting · 1 year ago

Text

Made For Each Other - Max Verstappen

Words: 3,486 Summary: Max never put much stock into love at first sight until meeting her. Note(s)/Warning(s): Near Physical Cheating, Some Emotional Cheating (on Kelly not reader). So this is the toxic!max fic I mentioned and uh yeah this isn’t super like toxic but it’s something. Also, I will not apologize for inserting found family into this fic.

Masterlist | Support Me!

“What?” Max presses his lips together, jaw twitching and he’s happy that P isn’t here, but with Daniil’s parents. “Things haven’t been good for us in awhile.” Maybe ever. He thinks and nearly winces, because they had been good in the beginning. But things had changed halfway through the 2021 season and it had only gotten worse as the weeks and months went on. “Kelly, it is unfair to you for me to pretend that I want to be with you anymore.” He nearly says that once the season was over he was already planning on breaking up with her, but manages to hold his tongue. She’s looking at him in that way that he hates, that’s caused arguments because it reminds him of his father. “What do you want me to tell P?” He can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes him at her easy acceptance. “Tell her that I will always love her and that if she ever wants to talk to me, she can call and I’ll do my best to answer.” “Okay.” Her voice is quiet and she looks around his apartment. “There shouldn’t be much here, but what you do find, have it shipped to me.” “Of course.”

He watches as Kelly walks towards the front door and maybe he shouldn’t say anything, doesn’t want to give her false hope, but he can’t help it. “Kelly.” She stops, her hand on the door knob ready to turn it. “Thank you for the past few years and all your support.” He sees her shoulders move as she sighs. “Your welcome, Max.” And then she turns the handle and walks out of his apartment.

He watches the door for a moment, feeling like if he looks away, suddenly she’ll be back. But the handle doesn’t turn and he’s spinning around to move to the couch where he had thrown his phone when Kelly had unexpectedly come here.

His thumb quickly moves across the screen, opening his last text message thread and sending a simple text.

I broke up with her.

It stares up at him and three dots appear along with those little check marks and he can’t help but smile. And god if the media could see him now, smiling after just breaking up with his girlfriend of so long, they’d use this as some sort of proof that he is the devil.

And now what?

His smile grows and his thumb moves again.

And now I come to you.

—

“You know, I thought you athletes had to train. Keep fit for the season.” She teases as he watches her move around her small kitchen. “I’ve barely been here a day and you’re kicking me out?” She shakes her head at him. “No it’s just I know that China got canceled, but you do have another race soon.” He shrugs, “It’s at the very end of the month. Besides, there's a gym close by. I can go there.” “And did you tell your trainer that you wouldn’t be home so he shouldn’t drop off any food or expect you?” His eyes widened. “Fuck.” He curses, scrambling out of the kitchen and to the bedroom where his phone is, her laughter ringing in his ears.

Calling Brad, he hears the phone ring three times before his trainer picks up. “Hello,” “Hey Brad, uh I’m not home right now. I mean, I’m not in the uh country.” “Did they call you for some testing?” “Uh no. I’m not there either. Just took a bit of a break, so don’t worry about meals or anything.” There’s a bit of silence before Brad speaks again. “Max, is everything alright?” “Yeah, yes. Everything is fine. I just needed a bit of a break. I’ll see you in Milton on the twenty-first, yeah?” “Sure.” “Great.” And Max hangs up the call, feeling a bit like a hurricane.

“You’ve made me go crazy.” He tells her when he sees her standing in the door of the bedroom, raising an arm when she doesn’t move. She immediately moves into his space, wrapping her arms around his waist, as his arm wraps around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Have I?” “Yes. Meeting you has made me crazy.” “Do you regret it?” “No.” The answer is swift and firm, because no he could never regret it.

So much had changed since he had seen her for the first time just barely two weeks ago. Most of those changes happened in the past forty-eight hours. But he liked those changes.

He liked how he felt ever since she first looked at him, shook his hand, said his name. Liked how she made him smile and laugh. Maybe it was fucked but he liked how in Austrailia when he won and he nearly kissed her at the afterparty, she had to press her hand on his chest and hold him back. Remind him that he had a girlfriend. Had to stop him from pulling out his phone to call her and break up with her right then and there. Liked that despite that, she had taken his unlocked phone, added her number and told him to text her. Pressed her lips to his cheek and let the scent of her bury itself in his brain. He liked that when he first texted her asking when he could see her again, she hadn’t asked who, just told him they could talk when he was single. Liked that barely a day later he had texted her telling her he was and now he was here, with her, in her home.

Max loved however, her. The way she kissed him when he showed up at her doorstep. The then slight shyness she had over her giving him her number and her text, though there was no guilt or apology to be found in her words. Just more disbelief that she had done so. How she smelled, her house smelled. The way she sat, how her fingers brushed over his skin. How passionate she was about her job, about the music she listened to, and the candle that sat beside her bathtub.

And so it comes out. “I love you.”

He shouldn’t be saying it. People would and will call him crazy for it, but he knows himself. He knows what he’s feeling. And he loves her. Loves this woman that he hasn’t even known for a month. And fuck, people like to talk about how love at first sight doesn’t exist and you don’t know when someone is the one immediately or so soon after meeting them, but that isn’t true. There are outliers. He’s got a cousin that married her husband barely a year after dating him and they are happier than any couple he’s ever seen. One of the guys he grew up karting with met his girlfriend and a month later they were moving in together. He thinks they have three kids or maybe it’s four now.

And she, she feels like he was made for her and only her.

“I love you too.” The words aren’t whispered, no shame or doubt on them. Just certainty and he doesn’t know that she’s thinking the same thing. That she was made just for him.

—

She doesn’t come to the next race no matter how much he begs. Even when he’s about to run late for his flight back to the factory, head buried her neck as he pleads with her to come. But she only laughs, brushing her fingers through his hair.

“You just barely made a statement about no longer being with Kelly.” And he kind of hates that there’s no distaste in her voice about him having a girlfriend when they met. He knows that if she had been seeing someone his blood would be boiling everytime his name got brought up or even hinted at. “Give it a bit to settle.” He straightens with a bit of frown, “I won’t hide you.” She laughs, eyes lighting up and it makes him smile. “I’m not asking you too. Just for patience. I don’t want your PR team to end up hating me.” “Miami, then?” She shakes her head, pushing him away. “You have a plane to catch, Max.” “Imola?” He asks, backing up. Eyes widening a bit when she shakes her head again. “Monaco?” “Max!” And she’s laughing again. “Spain?” And this time she nods her head and he groans, picking up his duffel bag that’s been sitting by the door for probably thirty minutes now. “That is so fair away. You will make me wait that long?” “Oh, poor baby. Having to wait just a little over a month.” He pokes his bottom lip out, unashamed to pout. Because yes, not having her with him for the next four races sounded like torture. He had only gotten a taste of what her support was like in Australia. He wanted all of it now.

She must see that on his face because her smile turns fond, no more teasing and she’s capturing his lips in a quick kiss. “It will go by faster than you think, Max. And it gives me enough time to get everything situated so I can really be comfortable working from anywhere in the world.” “So, you’ll join me for the rest of the season?” “Yes.” He grins, pressing their lips together once, then twice. “If it does not go by fast like you say,” She stops him before he can continue. “Go, Max, it will. And I’m always a call away.”

—

The press eagerly awaits Max’s arrival in Baku. Hoping to see the two time world champion, downtrodden, miserable, regretful. Instead they get an even better story. He arrives at the track on the phone laughing, smile wide and body relaxed. It wasn’t the image of a man who had just separated from his girlfriend of a few years. It was the image of a man happier than he ever had been before.

They all want to ask questions, want to ask who he’s talking to, what or who perhaps has him smiling. Why did he and Kelly break up? Did he break up with her? Did she with him? But none of them are willing to risk the odd relationship that Red Bull has with the press, kind even generous until you cross the line.

—

“No more races without you.” He murmurs when she arrives at his hotel in Spain, his breath causing goosebumps to appear on her neck. “No more.” She agrees, before pulling slightly away, just so they can look at each other. “Hi.” She greets. He smiles at her. “Hi.” “Congrats on Monaco.” He huffs, but something warm fills him with her words. “You said that on the phone.” “That was on the phone.” She teases, before lifting her arms to loop them around his neck. “Proud of you, Max.” He doesn’t know how to respond to that, to how sincere her words are, so he presses their lips together.

“I love you.” She breathes when they break apart, panting slightly with shiny and swollen lips. “I love you too.”

—

The camera's shuttering intensifies as soon as Max’s car that he was given for the race weekend arrives at the track on Saturday. And it only gets worse when instead of just locking the car and starting his walk to the red bull garage, he rounds to the other side, opening the passenger door and helping a woman get out.

This woman is not one that any of them recognize. She is not Max’s mother or sister. She is not Kelly or some sort of model, super, instagram, or swimsuit. And even better they don’t recognize this Max. Who as soon as she is out of the car, purse in hands, shuts the door for her, which is fairly typical for him. But what is not is the way he presses his lips to hers for a quick kiss, before snaking an arm around her waist, a sort of love sick smile on his face as they begin the walk.

“I can’t believe you wanted me to come to one of these things earlier.” She murmurs to him, giving a wave to all the cameras. If she was going to do this, be with Max, she’d have to get used to them and quickly. “I still wish you had.” He murmurs back, squeezing her waist and turning his head to press his nose quickly to the top of her head. “Did you tell anyone about me or that I was coming?” She asks, though she already has a feeling what the answer is as they move further into the paddock and sees some of the drivers do double takes. He smirks, “now why would I do that?” She shakes her head, “your PR team is going to kill you and I’m going to watch.” Her eyes then catch on a slightly familiar man who’s looking at Max with murder in his eyes and she amends her statement. “Daniel is going to kill you and I’m going to watch.” Max pales slightly as he takes a look at the man she only knows from his stories and a few brief clips she’s seen on youtube.

As soon as they enter Red Bull’s hospitality for the weekend, Daniel pounces. Dragging Max and her since Max refuses to let go of her, to Max’s drivers room.

When the door closes, Daniel shoves Max though she expects more gently than he normally would due to her and stands in front of the door, hands on his hips, anger and disappointment warring on his face.

“Max.” “Daniel.” He replies, though it's a bit meek and she can’t help but give his hand a quick squeeze before letting go and stepping away. Not returning to his side despite the offended and hurt look he gives her. She shakes her head. “I told you that you could tell people.”

Daniel turns to look at her, giving her a quick grin. “I like you.” He declares before turning back to Max, grin gone.

“Seriously Max. First there was Kelly and you breaking up, which I found out through social media and you still haven’t told me how that whole thing went down.” She winces at the exasperation in Daniel’s voice. She knew from Max how close they were, considering themselves brothers just about and she couldn’t imagine how Daniel felt learning about Max’s breakup from social media and not the man himself.

“And now this!” He waves his hands around between her and Max. “I’m sure you're great.” He tells her quickly and she gives him a sheepish smile. “I mean really Max. What gives?” Max stares at the older man, unsure of what exactly to say to him.

It wasn’t like he didn’t think the people he was closest to weren’t going to have a reaction to the news of his breakup and now new relationship. It’s just that besides Daniel none of them had really reached out wanting to know what happened because they were all right with not knowing. They knew that if Max wanted to talk about it with them, he would. But Daniel was different.

He talked to Daniel about everything. A side effect of the older man having to deal with him as a teammate for those few years when he was so young and trying to really figure himself out. They had developed a different kind of relationship. One where he knew that he could go to Daniel with anything and everything and receive no judgment, only support. Daniel to him was a weird cross of a friend, brother, and father.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes and his hands tighten into fists a little. Always unsure of himself when apologizing. “I should have called. Told you, explained what happened.” He hesitates, but knows that Daniel deserves the truth. “I nearly did.” And wasn’t that the truth. There were many times he nearly called or texted Daniel to tell him about the stunning girl he saw, then met, then nearly kissed, then got together with. But he hadn’t. He knew if he told Daniel, he’d end up telling everyone. Daniel stares at him, face giving away nothing, making him fidget, before he sighs and gives Max a smile. “It’s all good mate. You’re a bit of a cunt. But,” he shrugs, grinning. “You’ve always been like that.” Max lets out a laugh, relaxing at the familiar energy of Daniel. “Yeah, just a bit.”

He turns to look at his girlfriend, who's looking between the two of them with a smile, beckoning her back to his side. Enjoying how she easily fits into his side. “Daniel, this is my girlfriend,” and he knows his voice is lovesick when he says her name with the way Daniel looks at him. “Darling, Daniel.” “It’s nice to meet you, Daniel. Max talks about you a lot.” Daniel’s eyes flicker to Max, expecting some sort of an embarrassment or denial, but the younger man just nods. And that’s good enough for Daniel, who immediately grins at her before pulling her into a hug. “Nice to meet you as well. Max treating you well? I taught him everything he knows.” He tells her with a wink when he releases her. She lets out a small giggle at his words, but nods. “Very well. And thank you for your services.” She winks, making Daniel laugh.

“Oh, you are amazing. Now, tell me how this happened and what happened with Kelly.” He says gesturing between the two of them, sitting on the folding chair in the room, while they sit on the couch. “They are very much connected.” She laughs, before patting Max on the arm and sitting back fully.

“Oh, no.” Max groans, running a hand over his face. Daniel was going to have a fucking laugh. “So, we met a little before the Australian Grand Prix. Nearly had an incident there.” He tilts his head towards her and Daniel nods, understanding what he’s saying. “I actually nearly broke it off there. She managed to stop me however. But when I got home to Monaco, I broke up with Kelly then and there. Was already planning on doing it at the end of the season.” Daniel nods. “You mentioned that before.” “Yeah.” Max sighs, before telling him the rest.

Daniel stares at him for a moment after he's done before shaking his head, with a sort of breathless laugh. “Only you, Max. Only you. I’m happy for you though.” Max smiles at the older man’s easy acceptance. “Thank you.” “PR’s going to kill you for not giving them any warning.” He rolls his eyes, she had been telling him the same thing. “They won’t do anything. Besides, didn't they want me to be more personable?” “Don’t think this is what they meant or had in mind.” She tells him. “Probably hoping you’d vlog. Do what Charles and Lando do.” His nose wrinkles at the idea, making her and Daniel laugh.

—

“You’re good for him.” Daniel murmurs as they watch qualifying. She turns her head a little, still keeping most of her focus on the track. “Think so?” “Know so.” He corrects, taking a moment to flash her a smile. “Max and Kelly,” he sighs. “They had a lot of issues.” She says for him. “Wanted different things or the same things but not at the same time.” “Yeah,” the older man breathes, feeling at ease with how much she knows. “She made him happy at first ya know? But you,” he pauses to shake his head. “You make him into the person I think he would’ve been without Jos. Relaxed, at ease, happy.” His voice is a little quieter with the last word and she has to blink so she doesn’t start to cry. “I want him to be happy. And I know we fell into this fast, but Max.” She sighs, feeling a smile stretch across her lips as her heart flutters in her chest all at his name, at the thought of him. “I was made for him.” Daniel chuckles, taking in the infatuated, lovesick, expression on her face. It was the same look he had seen earlier on Max. It was nice to see that it really did go both ways. “There might be some fuss around it, but it’ll die down eventually.” He hesitates not wanting his next words to seem to much, but thinks fuck it. They went to the extremes here, and she’d have to get used to it fast with Max, if she wasn’t already. “I’ll message a few drivers that I know will support you and Max. We’ll have your guys back with the media or anyone else.” His support and approval make her reach out, squeezing his forearm for a few seconds. “Thank you, Daniel. It means the world to me.”

---

Tagging: @lapb @gemofthenight @peachiicherries

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #my brainrot for max is so bad #i had to finish this one because last night i came up with another idea for him #he has a hold on me #sins fics

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maretinelli · 5 days ago

Note

Oiiioii vidoca, vim te pedir algo bem foffinho com o Ollie

To meio pra baixo esses dias pq não consegui entrar na faculdade e eu só queria o Ollie aqui me consolando, mas como não temos, eu me contento lendo o que você escreve perfeitamente

Beijocas❤️

Oii, querida!!! Sinto muito por não ter conseguido, espero que essa história conforte seu coraçãozinho❤️

DAWN WITH SNACKS

Ollie Bearman X Academic!fem!reader

Summary: When they are both exhausted from the day and forget to eat dinner, what makes Ollie take his girlfriend for a late-night stroll with snacks.

Words: 2.8K+

Warnings: Mentions of fast food stores, cute couple, childhood best friends to lovers, mentions of songs and romantic.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And you can request stories on my profile. ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

The day had been tiring for both of them. Y/n spent hours at college, dealing with tests, activities and demanding practical training for the Physical Education course. Every muscle in her body seemed to protest with every step she took towards the apartment.

On the other hand, Ollie had an equally exhausting day, spending hours with his fitness trainer, dedicating himself to the maximum to be ready for the return of racing.

When Y/n finally opened the front door, it was already night. The apartment was silent, lit only by the soft light of the television. Ollie was already on the couch, showered, wearing a comfortable sweatshirt. As soon as he saw her, he gave a tired smile.

"Finally home." He commented, extending his hand to her.

Yin dropped her backpack near the door and walked over to him, throwing herself onto the couch and laying on her boyfriend's lap, letting out a long sigh. Ollie chuckled softly, running his hand through her hair, giving it a light caress.

"Tough day?" He asked, his voice calm.

"You have no idea." Y/n murmured, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the affection. "Biomechanics test first thing in the morning, then a group project that almost made me pull my hair out, and to top it off, practical weightlifting training. I swear my arms will never work again."

Ollie let out a low chuckle, his fingers sliding gently across her scalp.

"So at least now you understand how I feel after resistance training." He joked.

"I don't know... I think I'd still rather run than lift weights for hours." Y/n grumbled, snuggling deeper into his lap. "What about you? How was your day?"

"Basically being tortured by my fitness coach," Ollie said, feigning drama. "Sprints, weight training, reaction drills... and all this with him saying, 'You'll thank me for this at the next race.'"

Y/n opened one eye, looking at him with a lazy smile. "And you will?"

"Maybe." Ollie laughed. "But right now I just want to be like this with you."

They stayed there for a while, talking and enjoying each other's company. Ollie's caress of her hair almost made her fall asleep right there. But eventually, Y/n forced herself to get up.

"I'm going to take a shower before I fall asleep here." She said, stretching.

"Good idea." Ollie agreed, though his expression made it clear he didn't want her to leave his side.

Y/n chuckled softly and headed to her room, grabbing a comfortable pair of sweatpants before heading to the shower. The hot water helped relax her tired muscles, and when she returned to the living room, with her hair down and dressed in her sweatsuit, she found Ollie still on the couch, now holding the TV remote.

"Come here." He called, making room beside him and pulling back the blanket.

Y/n smiled and settled next to her boyfriend, laying her head on his chest and hugging his waist. He wrapped one arm around her, while his other hand browsed through the movies on the screen.

"How about The Princess Diaries?" He suggested, already knowing the answer.

"Again?" Y/n looked up at him with an arched eyebrow, but a smile played on her lips.

"It's your favorite." Ollie shrugged. "And I like seeing you happy."

She laughed, squeezing him into a hug. "You're such a cute boyfriend, Bearman."

"I know." He replied, smugly, which made Y/n roll her eyes.

The film began, and at first, they watched it attentively, commenting on the scenes they already knew by heart. But as time passed, the story on the screen took a back seat and the conversation between them took over.

"So, what are we going to do the weekend before the race?" Y/n asked, playing with the hem of his hoodie.

"We could go out to dinner somewhere special," Ollie suggested. "Or maybe we could make it a day just for us, no commitments, no schedules... just relaxing."

"I like that idea." She murmured. "Maybe a picnic? I'll bring the snacks, you bring your date."

"Deal." He smiled. "But only if you promise not to complain when I steal your dessert."

"No way!" Y/n laughed. "If you touch my chocolate, I revoke your right to pet me."

Ollie feigned a shocked look. "That would be cruel."

"Exactly." She said, smiling mischievously.

He chuckled, pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head. "Okay, no stealing your chocolate. But only because I like you so much."

"Great choice." Y/n replied, snuggling closer to him.

Hours had passed, and they were still on the couch, snuggled up against each other, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. The movie had already ended minutes ago, but neither of them bothered to turn off the TV.

"Did you know that otters hold hands while they sleep so they don't get lost in the water?" Ollie suddenly said, his voice calm as his fingers gently slid through Y/n's hair.

Y/n lifted her head to look at him with a smile. "Really? That's so cute."

"Yes," he confirmed. "And if an otter loses its mate, it grieves much like humans do."

She frowned, feigning a hurt look. "Why do you tell me such sad things before bed?"

Ollie laughed. "You're the one who started asking random trivia questions!"

She rolled her eyes, but smiled and snuggled back into him. A comfortable silence filled the room until Y/n murmured,

"I am hungry."

Ollie sighed, seeming to realize that he was too. "Now that you mention it... me too."

Y/n stood up slowly, grabbing her cell phone from the coffee table in the living room. "We can order something, like pizza or a burger."

Ollie raised an eyebrow, looking at the clock on the wall. "At this time? I think our favorite restaurants are already closed."

Y/n frowned and looked at her phone screen. "Oh, shit, it's late anyway..." She sighed and threw her phone on the couch. "But I don't have the energy to cook either."

Ollie thought for a second before shrugging. "We can go out and try to find an open drive-thru."

Y/n laughed at the suggestion. "Do you have any idea what you're talking about? Two athletes, one of whom is a health student, going out in the middle of the night to buy fast food? It seems wrong."

Ollie rolled his eyes playfully. "Okay, if you want I can drop you off at home and eat alone."

"No way." She replied, laughing.

He then held out his hand to her. "Then come on, let's go before I change my mind."

Y/n smiled and put on her slippers, heading to the door. "I'll wear sweatpants."

Ollie laughed. "I'll just put a sweatshirt over my pajamas."

Y/n laughed as he disappeared down the hallway, heading to his room. When he came back, he was wearing a dark green hoodie and plaid sweatpants, clearly something he would wear to bed.

She looked at him and let out a low laugh. “You really didn’t put any effort into looking presentable.”

Ollie held up the car keys with a smile. "And do you mind?"

"Not at all." She replied, still laughing.

With that, they left the apartment, ready for their little nighttime adventure in search of food.

Ollie held Y/n's hand as they walked through the building's parking lot, their steps slow and carefree. The night air was cool, and the city around them seemed to be asleep, the silence broken only by the distant sound of a few cars in the distance.

"Okay, we need to decide what we're going to eat before we go driving around aimlessly." Ollie said, shaking her hand lightly.

"Hmm... burger and fries sound like a great idea." Y/n suggested.

"I agree. But what if we find a place that has milkshakes too?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Perfect!" She smiled. "But only if you don't let me mix strawberry milkshake with chicken nuggets again. Bad experience."

Ollie laughed. "I warned you, but you wouldn't listen. Now you've learned your lesson."

She rolled her eyes, laughing, as he unlocked the car with the button on the key fob. They each got in on their own side, and Ollie started the engine, pulling out of the parking lot with no clear destination in mind, hoping to find an open drive-thru.

The city streets were quiet at that time. The streetlights illuminated the dark asphalt, and few people walked along the sidewalks. There was almost no movement, which made the walk even more pleasant. The silence of the early morning brought a sense of calm, contrasting with the hustle and bustle of the day they had.

Y/n was talking about something when suddenly the car radio started playing Wannabe by the Spice Girls.

Her eyes widened and without hesitation, she turned up the volume.

"Oh, not that song!!" Ollie exclaimed, laughing.

"That song YES!" Y/n replied excitedly.

He shook his head, still laughing. "I can't believe this song haunts me. You've embarrassed me enough with it."

"It wasn't embarrassment, it was free entertainment!" Y/n replied, laughing. "Have you already forgotten when I played that song on the speaker in the garage?"

Ollie let out a loud laugh, remembering the scene. "How could I forget? I was trying to concentrate and all of a sudden I hear 'IF YOU WANNA BE MY LOVER' blasting through the speakers!"

Y/n laughed.

"I was trying to get you excited for the race!"

Then, she started singing the song loudly, acting it out exaggeratedly while looking at him and making dramatic gestures.

"I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want" Y/n sings loudly. "Now it's your turn, sing, love!"

Ollie laughed and shook his head. "No way. This moment is all yours."

"Coward." She joked, but continued singing enthusiastically until the song ended. When another song came on the radio, Y/n turned the volume down and turned to him with a mischievous smile.

"I want this song at our wedding. Instead of the bride and groom's waltz, we'll dance Wannabe at the reception."

Ollie laughed out loud, nearly missing the turn. "Do you really want our wedding to be remembered like this?"

"Obviously! It's going to be iconic!"

He looked at her with a smile and shook his head. "Okay, but only if I can wear a plaid suit to go with this madness."

Y/n laughed, throwing her head back. "Deal!"

The love between the two was evident in every look, in every joke and even in the silliest moments. Since childhood, they had loved each other purely and truly, and they would continue to do so until the end of time.

After driving aimlessly for a few minutes, Ollie finally spotted an open McDonald's. He immediately turned the car into the drive-thru and smiled in satisfaction.

"I should get a prize for finding food at this hour," he joked as he stopped in line.

"Congratulations, Bearman, your trophy will be... a snack and chips." Y/n laughed, clapping exaggeratedly.

When it was their turn to order, Y/n stared at the illuminated menu for a few seconds, undecided.

"Hmm... I think I'll have a Big Mac... or a McChicken... no, wait, maybe nuggets..."

Ollie lightly banged his head on the steering wheel, laughing. "For God's sake, Y/n, are you choosing your last meal of your life?"

"This takes some thought, okay?" She countered, still studying the menu.

"Reflection?! It's McDonald's, not a five-star restaurant!"

"Do you want nuggets? Because I can change to nuggets." Y/n asked, completely ignoring his impatient tone.

"I want you to decide before morning!" Ollie joked, rolling his eyes.

She laughed and finally made the request. Ollie ordered his soon after, and within minutes they had bags of food in hand. He drove into the parking lot and parked in a quiet corner, while soft music played from the playlist they had created together.

Y/n opened the bag of fries and, without hesitation, began stealing from Ollie's tray.

"Hey!" The pilot glared at her, feigning indignation. "That's theft of private property!"

She shrugged, popping another potato into her mouth. "You should know that sharing food with me is a lifetime contract."

Ollie grabbed a potato from her tray in response. "So that's how it is? Taking justice into your own hands?"

"Exactly."

Ollie laughed and took some more of her potatoes, teasing her.

"That's not exactly an athlete's diet." Y/n commented, looking at the snack in his hands.

"We burn it all tomorrow in training, so technically this is... strategic refueling."

She laughed and they continued eating, while the conversation flowed naturally.

"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe penguins see humans as strange beings who can't swim well?" Y/n said suddenly.

Ollie stared at her for a moment and then laughed. "Is that what goes through your head while eating a burger?"

"Yes. And another thing, how do fish drink water?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Y/n, for God's sake..."

"No, seriously! They're already in the water, but do they need to drink?"

Ollie thought for a moment and shrugged. "I don't know... maybe they do? Or maybe they absorb it through the skin?"

"That makes sense... wait, do you have dehydrated fish?"

He laughed. "If they do, I hope they find a water McDonald's to solve the problem."

They continued talking about random theories, mixed with childhood memories and inside jokes. Time passed without them noticing, and soon the snacks were gone.

Now, with the empty packages, they sat there in the car, enjoying the calm of the night. The comfortable silence between them was filled only by the soft music from the playlist, as they exchanged knowing looks and discreet smiles.

They didn't need big moments to feel happy together. Just each other's company was enough.

When the next song started playing, Ollie recognized the first few chords immediately. Talking To The Moon, by Bruno Mars. A smile appeared on his face, and he raised the volume a little, turning to Y/n.

"You know... that song made me realize that I was in love with you years ago." He said, his voice soft, full of affection. "Every time I heard it, I remembered you..."

Y/n blinked a few times in surprise before smiling. "Why that song?"

Ollie sighed lightly, as if he was reliving that moment.

"Because whenever I was away, traveling to races, you found a way to text me, to ask how I was doing, even with the time difference and your crazy schedule. You always made sure to be there, to support me, even when the whole world seemed too busy to care."

Y/n blushed slightly, lowering her head and playing with the hem of her sweatshirt.

"I'm so lucky to have you in my life." Ollie continued, his eyes fixed on her. "And dating my childhood best friend? That's the best gift I could ever ask for."

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes shining with tenderness. Without saying anything, she smiled and leaned in slightly, her lips meeting his in a sweet, lingering kiss. Ollie brought a hand to her face, deepening the kiss with affection, feeling the comfortable warmth of that moment.

When they pulled away, he smiled and placed a kiss on her cheek, while Y/n leaned back against the car seat again, letting out a yawn.

"See? You're too old to be out this late." Ollie laughed.

"Hey, I'm only 20!" She retorted, rolling her eyes but laughing.

On the way back, the atmosphere in the car was calm, a comfortable silence filled with low music and the good tiredness after a fun night.

Y/n put her feet up on the dashboard and sighed. "That was one of the simplest, but also one of the most wonderful moments we've ever had together."

Ollie smiled, agreeing. "Sometimes impromptu nights are the best."

As soon as they entered the apartment, Y/n let out another yawn and practically threw herself on the couch.

"I could sleep easy here right now," she murmured, burying her face in the pillow.

Ollie locked the door and laughed, approaching her. Without warning, he lay on top of her back, making Y/n let out a little cry of protest.

"OLIVER! Get off me!" She laughed, trying to push him away.

"No, it's comfortable here." He teased, but soon rolled to the side, pulling her into a hug.

Y/n snuggled against his chest, feeling the warmth of Ollie's body.

"You know what? I could sleep here easily too," he said, his voice already a little sleepy.

"So that's what we're going to do." Y/n muttered, closing her eyes for a moment.

Ollie got up quickly, turned off the lights in the apartment and went back to the couch, arranging the blankets for the two of them. As soon as they lay down again, he hugged her from behind, fitting his face in the crook of her neck.

"Good night, my walking insomnia." He whispered, smiling.

Y/n chuckled softly. "Good evening, my favorite pilot."

Little by little, the silence of the night enveloped them both, until they finally fell asleep, cuddled together on the couch, as if that moment were the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. After all, they didn't need anything other than each other to feel at home.

#fanfiction #y/n #romance #imagines #lovers #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #fem reader #ollie bearman x female reader #ollie bearman x y/n #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman #imagines ollie bearman

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months ago

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How was catsitting Lucius? *This happens in glomas if you forgot!*

Omg yeah 😭 Crewel had to watch Lucius while Trein chaperoned the students and dealt with the fire lotuses—

If he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will.

Displeasure flickered across Crewel’s face, as speedy and as sudden as a gaggle of puppies leaving muddy marks all over a clean rug. He openly pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

“Lucius was a handful, even for a diligent trainer and master like myself. Of course, a familiar is not on the same level as a mere pet. Familiars are intelligent, prideful creatures with their own thoughts, wants, and agency separate of their masters. A distinction must be made between how one treats a pet versus a familiar.

"That being said!! The simple act of bringing him home to my apartment was a hassle! His claws came out and threatened to tear apart my leather car seats!

"The problem failed to correct itself by the time we arrived at our destination... Lucius saw it fit to cling to my furniture and the works of art on display. I had to remove him without risking any damage to my possessions!

"Trein-sensei has truly spoiled him. Stay, come here... He refused to listen to a single one of my commands, even turned his nose up at the fancy canned tuna I offered for dinner!

"The worst of it was Lucius's refusal to take a bath. I had to discard my coat and stealthily capture the miscreant!! He struggled every moment of it, kicking up water and suds and flooding my bathroom.

“And what do you suppose Lucius did at the end of all that? He proceeds to curl up and fall asleep right on top of my fur coat!”

You pictured a grumpy Crewel, expensive tailored clothes soaking from the aftermath of the Bath War. He tiredly padded into his living room with a towel and came upon a bundle of fur napping peacefully in a spotlight of sun. Then, in your mind’s eye, he leaned against the doorframe with a lopsided smile and a sigh.

“… What a bad boy.”

The scene was all too comical, it was difficult to suppress a giggle. Your teacher didn’t seem to notice, too swept up in his own recollections.

"Tch, this is why cats are so…” Crewel stopped himself short, forcing down his bubbling annoyance. “Dogs are clearly the superior companion animal! Trein-sensei is so ignorant as to not recognize that, no matter how often we clash on the subject.”

“You don’t like cats, but you still agreed to look after Lucius in Trein-sensei’s absence,” you pointed out, "which I'm sure is greatly appreciated."

You carefully eyed him.

Despite what he says… Crewel-sensei actually cares a lot about everyone, doesn’t he?

"Hmph, perhaps next time Trein-sensei is predisposed he should find a familiarsitter that is more aligned with his incorrect opinions."

He shook his head vigorously, as if he were a dog dispelling water from his fur.

“But enough about that, tell me about Noble Bell College and the City of Flowers. Surely the trip was nowhere near as eventful as my time with Lucius here.”

You laughed nervously. "Ahahah... Weeeell, y'see, how do I put this…”

#twisted wonderland #twst #Divus Crewel #Lucius #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Reader #self insert #glorious masquerade spoilers #It’s Raining Crows and Dogs #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #Mozus Trein

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pokemonshelterstories · 7 months ago

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Hi hello!

Houndoom was always one of my favorite Pokémon, and I'm currently doing research to see if the line is a good fit for me. To that end, might you have any pointers on keeping Houndour/Houndoom specifically?

the houndour line are interesting pokemon to keep! it can be done, but it's a lot more work than other canine pokemon. houndour, unlike the similarly-typed growlithe and maschiff, are not domesticated pokemon. they have some quirks that make keeping them tough.

the first step you need to take is checking if you can actually have a houndour where you're living. if you live in an apartment or belong to a housing association, they most likely have a ban on houndour. this is partly because undomesticated fire types are considered a moderate fire risk and thus are usually banned automatically, but it's also because the houndoor line is noisy. they have a complex system of communication consisting of dozens of unique vocalizations ranging from yips to howls, and much like a combusken cock, their favorite time to start up the chorus is at dawn. you're going to have to be okay with a lot of noise to raise them, and not everyone who lives near you is necessarily going to agree with that choice.

if you are able to keep one, then you need to do the typical fireproofing you would do for any fire type, and make sure it has a safe area where it can use its fire (they routinely flame themselves as a form of parasite control and coat maintenance). you then have to choose how many houndour you want to keep. houndour are pack pokemon and have high social needs, and it's not recommended to keep less than two at a time. some people keep a single houndour because they will bond very tightly to their trainer, and they claim it makes it easier to train them, but it results in other behavioral issues down the road. trying to be their only social structure at home is a bad idea.

getting your houndour from the right source is also really important, because they absolutely need to be raised with littermates so they can learn proper bite inhibition from each other. i've been around houndour that were allowed to bite in play, and i've still got the arm pain to show for it- that is not a bite you want to risk. if you get a weaned puppy, puppy socialization classes are a really good idea for these guys to help them get that social fulfillment.

make sure that you can meet their exercise needs, too. they're active mostly at dawn and dusk, and they're fast; they need plenty of heavy-duty fireproof chew toys and time to run around. this is part of why i don't recommending evolving them unless you have a battling team, because they really need to ability to go head to head with other pokemon once they evolve. it's part of establishing their social structure, and you don't want them to turn that need onto you.

they're definitely pokemon that take a lot of work and careful planning to keep! but they're also remarkably loyal, playful, and affectionate in the right circumstances. you just have to make sure you can provide an environment where they can show off their best qualities.

#charlietalks #pkmn irl #pokemon irl #pokemon behavior #pokemon care #houndour

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lowcallyfruity · 1 month ago

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DOES BENNET HAVE A POKEMON TEAM IF HE DID WHAT WOULD IT BE :333

Bennet didn’t have a Pokémon team before this but NOW HE DOES 😎😎😎😎 I spent 500 hours on this got bless

I don’t think he would be a battling trainer mostly because he can’t, and also even if he could he wouldn’t be interested.

So the Pokémon he has are because they’re just silly little guys and/or they help him with his job :)

I wanted to give him water/grass Pokémon bc he’s a plant guy and also bc hes a manatee so yeahg 🙏 the other two are bc they fit his vibe 💜

Explaining my Pokémon choices. If u even care

Psyduck: they’re a silly little guy. Bennet thinks they’re cute so he keeps them around ^_^ also hashtag relatable

Quagsire: also a silly little guy. He’s so cute 😭😭 also bonus he kinda looks like Bennet… my sister even agreed with that so ofc I have to add him. I also think he can help out Bennet with his tasks

Lotad: lotad and its evolutions are water/grass so I thought it was a perfect mix. And I read all of their descriptions and they seem very chill and fit Bennets personality very well 🙏 so I think he would like them. Also lotad can also help out Bennet with his job :3 extra but I think lotad would evolve the quickest out of all of them

Polteageist: at first I added them for the vibes. But then I read their story/lore and was like “hell yeah this is definitely a Pokémon Bennet would have” so yeahg. It helps out Bennet , and also bc they trust Bennet, Bennet gets to have a nice sip of tea 😎😎 I think Bennet found them forgotten in a basement when he was little, and kept them ever since :)

Hatterene: also added her for the vibes. And kinda lore too? Bennet probably ‘rizzed her up’ with his epic cosmetology skills 😎 also he’s a very chill guy so they can chill together :) he doesn’t overwhelm her (most of the time) also she can lazer beam his ex and that’s funny to me. I think that she was a later addition to the team

Steenee: I added her bc she’s a grass Pokémon and sooo very cute :) and bc I think she and Bennet would get along. Also bc steenee helped mallow in sun and moon , I think she would be helpful for Bennet as well ^_^ also probably a later addition ? But earlier than hatterene.

Okay now technically he doesn’t have a gulpin. But I added it bc the people he works for would never allow a gulpin in their home, so Bennet just takes care of this random one that shows up near his work place. He thinks their cute :)

#I put wayyy to much thought near the end #that was really fun honestly lol #prospero Pokémon team when 🤔 /j #or /hj…. unless #hashtag I love Pokémon au Bennet #💛! asks #💛! sapphywaffy #My twst ocs🪞💛#I don’t think I have a Bennet tag #oh well 🙏#BRU TOO* 💀💀 whatever I’m not fixing that first tag

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physiotherapydelivered · 2 years ago

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#fitness #health #physiotherapy #personal trainer near me #in home personal trainer mississauga

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coramatus · 1 year ago

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Black Reshiram AU - part 3

Part 1 - Part 2

Emmet has to take a few days off work. The revelations that Ingo shared were just too much.

He spends the time cuddling his and his brother’s Pokémon teams. The gathered Pokémon do their best to take care of him in turn, keeping him fed and functional. They can do little more than watch in sadness as he cries.

To know that he was so close to getting his brother back, only to lose him to the machinations of higher powers…

It’s not fair… why did they both have to suffer for another’s amusement?

If Emmet ever meets Reshiram, he’ll… Well, he won’t be able to do anything really. But he’ll certainly give that feathery jerk a piece of his mind, Legendary Unovan dragon or not! And to think he liked Reshiram too!

It’s a lot to reconcile.

He wonders how Ingo is doing…

Ingo is not faring much better. He hides away in a cave, curled up in his dragon form, struggling to come to terms with his new reality.

But it feels impossible. Anger and guilt keep bubbling up, constantly reminding him of the unfairness of it all. Why should he have to suffer for the poor choices of others?

But that’s not fair either.

Everyone made the choices they thought best. His parent did it out of a love so misguided and oblivious that only a near-immortal could conceive it. And the old Ingo hadn’t known the full picture before agreeing to essentially die.

Current Ingo didn’t ask for any of this. He’d been perfectly happy living as a dragon, doing whatever he pleased. And now he’s stuck with a mess he didn’t even cause.

But Ingo is not so heartless as to be blind to the greatest victim in all of this:

Emmet.

Ingo’s heart aches at the thought of his once brother left all alone, going through life with half his soul ripped out. He had no voice in the matter and yet he still lost half of his world. Emmet deserves better. He deserves his Ingo, whole and home again. He doesn’t deserve some sad echo of his dead brother. Perhaps he would heal with time, but to even make him suffer through that pain in the first place is unconscionable.

Ingo doesn’t want to abandon Emmet.

But it’s better for everyone if Ingo stays away. He’ll only complicate and confuse things with his identity issues. This mess doesn’t need new layers of mistakes added on top.

Yet he still has no idea what he truly wants out of all this.

Ingo shifts and catches sight of Chandelure’s ball tucked in a safe corner. The urge to talk to someone suddenly proves too strong and without thinking, he releases her.

Chandelure pops out looking a bit rough around the edges, her flames dimmer and glass cloudier than it should be. Her eyes grow wide upon seeing him, her glass ringing out in surprise at the black dragon laying before her.

“…hello,” Ingo awkwardly greets her, lowering his head to her level.

Chandelure stares at him long and hard before asking, “…Ingo?? Is that you?”

Ingo winces and sadly informs her of his circumstances, that he’s just her trainer’s reincarnation and not the actual person she knew.

Chandelure floats over him, carefully scrutinizing his massive feathered form. Reincarnation certainly explains why his soul is in a dragon’s body now.

Ingo tries to argue, but Chandelure doesn’t care as she happily cuddles up against his feathery cheek. To her, Ingo is still Ingo even if he is a Legendary Pokémon now.

Her words remind him of his parent’s odd reassurance over a century ago, that he is Ingo no matter what. Now that he knows what his parent meant, it makes even less sense.

“I don’t understand. I have the old Ingo’s memories but… but they just don’t fit anymore. It feels wrong… like I stole his place.”

“That’s not how I see it,” Chandelure hums. “At your core, you’re still that little boy who caught me as a Litwick all those years ago.”

Ingo winces, “Then, why doesn’t it feel like that?”

Chandelure sighs sadly, but with understanding, “Reincarnation is tricky, even for ghosts. But sometimes bonds can transcend lifetimes. Maybe a bit more literally in your case.”

Ingo isn’t what to make of all this. Everything was dumped on him so suddenly; he isn’t ready for any of it.

Chandelure senses his distress and presses him to talk to Emmet again. She knows how desperately Emmet has missed Ingo. And it's clear to her that even with the reincarnation, part of Ingo desperately misses Emmet too.

Though he can’t deny it, Ingo is still reluctant. He doesn’t think that’s fair to Emmet. It’ll only confuse things between them. He just can’t be Emmet’s brother. He’s physically not that person anymore.

Why not? Chandelure points out that Emmet’s soul is still linked to Ingo’s, there’s nothing stopping them from forging a new bond. It doesn’t have to be that of siblings; they can still be friends, can’t they?

But Ingo still worries. It can’t be that simple… Emmet probably hates him for what he stands for…

At this, Chandelure bonks his snout with a sconce. Emmet doesn’t have a single hateful bone in his body! He is upset and he is hurting, but there is absolutely no way that he hates dragon Ingo. Emmet wouldn’t have given him her ball if he were that upset.

Besides, Ingo is hurting just as much. He needs someone besides just her to be there for him.

Ingo considers Chandelure’s words. He isn’t sure if she’s right, if Emmet would want him in his life at all. But she has a point. Moping in a cave won’t give him answers. If Ingo talks to Emmet, if he gets that ultimate rejection… at least then he’ll know he can move on from his past life completely.

With a soft sigh, Ingo shifts back to his human form. Chandelure floats up to him and he presses his forehead against her glass globe. He agrees to go back to see Emmet. Possibly for the last time. But he has an odd feeling that won’t be the case.

Four days after Ingo’s last visit, Emmet gets a knock at the door. He’s still shaken up and not feeling particularly sociable but answers it nonetheless.

He’s surprised at what he finds.

He hadn’t expected to see Ingo again. At all.

Ingo looks just as tired and miserable as Emmet. His black, feathered dress is a ruffled mess. He keeps his gaze lowered, ashamed.

“…you came back,” is all Emmet can say, clear shock coloring his otherwise dull, hoarse voice.

Ingo visibly winces and says with an uncharacteristic softness, “I… I wanted to talk to you.”

Part of Emmet’s spirit lifts with hope but the more realistic side of him knows better. If Ingo wanted to come back, he’d have said so already. What Ingo wants from him this time, he has no clue. But Emmet is patient and lets Ingo in. He has to hold himself back from simply clinging to Ingo as hard as he can.

Though Emmet is encouraged to see Chandelure hovering at Ingo’s side, her flames burning much brighter than before. She gently bumps her glass against Emmet’s forehead in a familiar act of comfort and he closes his eyes, leaning into her touch. With that, he follows Ingo to the kitchen table.

Their talk is an uncomfortable one.

Ingo speaks first. He expresses his hopes that Emmet can offer some insights as to their next steps. Does he want to be brothers again? Does he want Ingo out of his life? There’s so many ways to move forward but Ingo doesn’t have a clue which tracks to follow.

But all his questions do is uncover the uncertainty that Emmet feels. In growing frustration, Emmet openly admits that he doesn’t know the right choice any more than Ingo’s parent did. Hell, he knows even less about whether or not there is a right choice!! As Emmet starts to break down and cry, he buries his face in his hands, whimpering that all he knows is that he is so tired of being by himself.

Without another word, Ingo steps forward and wraps Emmet up in a hug. Emmet sobs and hugs Ingo back, practically collapsing in his arms. As they sit there embracing each other, Ingo decides that maybe this is enough to start with.

That night, Ingo stays by Emmet’s side, gently comforting him to the best of his ability. Emmet eventually falls asleep crying, cradling Ingo’s hand against his chest.

When Emmet wakes up, he’s alone. For a moment he wonders if last night was just a dream. Then the smell of cooking catches his attention. He gets up to find Ingo making breakfast. He looks a little strange doing this in his feathery dress and long hair, but otherwise it feels like a normal morning before Ingo… Emmet shakes himself off and shyly approaches. Ingo quietly passes him a plate of food before going back to cooking for the Pokémon. Emmet feels his heart twist in his chest at seeing the meal made for him. It’s all his favorites. He sits down with a soft thank you and starts to eat. It’s not long before he’s sniffling, his eyes stinging slightly from forming tears. He laughs between a full mouth as he starts to cry. Ingo drops what he’s doing and moves to Emmet’s side, but Emmet shakes his head and swallows his food. He just… he needs a moment… the food tastes just the way his brother made it…

Ingo hovers uncertainly before reaching out to rest a hand on Emmet’s back. He quietly rubs between Emmet’s shoulders as he cries, at a loss. As Emmet slowly calms down, Ingo apologizes for causing him so much pain. He knew that being here would just make things worse. If Emmet wants him out, he’ll go, no questions asked.

To his surprise, Emmet is quick to grab his hand, asking, almost begging Ingo to stay. It will be strange and uncomfortable and heartbreaking, but he does want Ingo to stay. He meant what he said before; he does not wish to be alone anymore.

Ingo considers this solemnly.

He gently squeezes Emmet’s hand.

“I’ll stay,” he softly promises.

If the pain in their hearts eases for just a moment, then they don’t say anything.

#pokemon #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon black and white #pokemon black 2 and white 2 #black reshiram au #submas #subway boss ingo #warden ingo #subway boss emmet #reshiram #chandelure #wow this took forever to finish sheesh

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thiswasneverthat · 2 years ago

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ㅡ personal trainer

❅ bangchan x female!reader

❅ smut, nipple play, groping

❅ wc: 1.2k

What did you expect the first time you sign to yourself to the gym near your apartment? Nothing much, really. Your intention was purely to get fit because you have been feeling kind of unproductive these days.

You were not much of a gym person to begin with, so you request a personal trainee to help you. What you didn't expect though, was the personal trainee to be hot as fuck. God, even hot would be an understatement to define him. You believe he was personally carved by the gods above and he was certainly their favorite creature. He could easily be your favorite too, to be very honest.

And what did you do on your very first gym session with him? Trying to get on his pants, of course. Because now, your definition of being productive has completely altered.

When the session was about to end, you set your plan into motion. All you need was to delay him from going home.

"Chris, do you mind helping me some more? I kind of want to try boxing," you asked him with a smile. "Oh, but of course, only if you are not busy."

"Sure, yeah. I don't mind."

You discreetly cheered. It was going smoothly so far.

Almost forty-five minutes later when you both were done with the boxing session, the gym was pretty much deserted. There were no more trainers or staff in sight.

"I think we're the only ones left, is that okay? Who's going to lock up the gym then?" you asked in fake concern.

"Don't worry about it, I got the keys."

Of course, you know it's fine. You heard from the other trainers that all of them got the keys to the gym because they usually come to work out early or went home late.

"Alright then, if you don't mind waiting a bit, I need to take a quick shower. Please don't lock me up in here," you joked before you sprinted toward the women's changing room. Faintly, you heard him laughing at what you just said.

And what about your plan? Well, it was about time to add some spices to it.

"Chris, you here?" you called out from the front door of the men's changing room.

"Yeah, I am here. You need something?"

You couldn't see him from where you were standing but you heard the sound of water running. He was probably taking a shower, you thought.

And while chewing on your lower lip, you sneakily entered the room. There were several rows of lockers covering the view of the showersㅡ where he was at.

"The water in the other room didn't work. Can I use the shower here?"

That was a blatant lie. The water in the women's changing room worked just fine.

"Yeah, sure. Just let me finish real quick, I am almost done heㅡ" the words then died in his throat the moment he caught you through his peripheralㅡ suddenly standing under the shower next to him that was only separated by clear glass.

"Oh no, it's fine, Chris. Take your time," you told him casually as you rid of the towel that was covering your body, leaving you completely naked.

When you tilted your head to glance at him, you caught him staring at you but he quickly averted his eyes to look at anything but you. A low giggle then rolled out of your mouth as you twisted the faucet, letting the cold water run through your bare flesh.

Acting as if this wasn't a strange occurrence at all, like the two of you have done this so many times before, you hummed casually as you tried to spread your shower gel all over your bodyㅡ intentionally ignoring him who was quickly rinsing off the remnants of his shampoo from his hair.

"Chris, wait! Can you help me?" you called him out when he was about to step out of the shower with a towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist.

"Help you with what?" Chris turned his head to look at you, however still keeping his gaze above your bare shoulders.

With a flirtatious smile, you handed him your shower gel. "I can't reach my back, help me out?"

"Yeㅡ yeah, sure," he stammered a little as he took the shower gel from your hand. "Where?"

"All over my back, please."

"Yeah, of course."

As you turned to face the wall, you pulled your hair around your shoulder to give him full access to your backㅡ somehow feeling a little exhilarated that your plan was working fine until that moment.

The next second when you felt his big hand on your back, you couldn't help but let out a small whimper.

"You okay?" Chris instantly asked as he run his hand up and down your back.

"Mm yeah, your hand feels so cold on my back."

"Oh, sorry about that," he said with a low chuckle and it sent a tingle up your whole body.

"It's fine, but can you rub the gel a little higher?"

"Higher?"

"Yes, higher," you confirmed with a slight nod before placing your left hand against the wall in front of you.

And behind you, Chris did as he was told. He squeezed more shower gel from the bottle before bringing his hand to your shoulders, rubbing the gel gently on your soft flesh.

"Can you add more gel here as well?" you asked once again, pointing at the area in the middle of your back, a little closer to the side of your breast.

"Yeah, sure."

He was so compliant that got you biting your lower lip. Oh, your urge to ask him to put his big hands all over your body was so, so huge.

"A little to the front, please?"

"To the front? Where?"

"Here," with no fear, you abruptly reached for his right hand and brought it to your breast. "Rub it here, please."

"What?!"

Even without looking back at him, you could already imagine his surprised expression; eyes wide, jaw dropped and a red tinge crept up his face.

"Like this," you then put your hand on top of his and guided him to gently massage your breast in his palm.

For a fleeting moment, his hand only moved because of your assistance but then he gradually massage your breast harder as he cleared his throat.

"That feels so good, Chris," the words escaped your mouth along with a heavy moan. "Put your other hand on my left breast as well, pretty please."

Once again, he obliged and brought his other hand to your other breast. He massaged both of your mounds harder when more and more moans escaped your mouth.

"Can you feel my nipples hardening under your touch?"

He only hummed in response as he twisted your nipples in between his fingers.

"Ah, fuck!" you groaned with eyes shut tightly, head thrown to the back against his chest. "I am so dripping wet downㅡ"

Your words ceased in your throat when a loud ringing of a phone was heard inside the room.

"Oh, shit," Chris hissed sharply and pulled his hands away from your body. "I am sorry, we shouldn't haveㅡ fuck, I am so sorry."

"Chris, what?!" you turned your body to grab his hand but you were too late.

He was already walking toward his locker in a hurry.

A moment later, the phone stopped ringing and you heard his voice at a close distance.

"Hey, yeah, sorry, I just finished taking a shower but I will be there soon. See you soon, babe."

"Oh, fuck!" you cursed harshly as you tugged on your wet hair.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfiction #chan smut #bang chan fanfic

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years ago

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Running from the Flames {17}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, panic attack - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven* || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen || Sixteen || Seventeen || Eighteen || under construction

Ilies was kind enough to take Pierre, Addie and I to the airport early on Monday morning. Pierre had put his Audi on one of the car transporters heading to Alpine’s mechanical headquarters in Paris and he would pick it up from there later in the week when he returned for some training. With the next race being in Canada there was a two week break so he was going to spend a few days in London with us as long as he kept up his fitness routine.

I was apparently the one in charge of making sure that happened but his personal trainer might have been shocked to hear that my idea of exercise involved us tangled in bedsheets. I kept that to myself of course and just agreed. As long as I got to watch while Pierre worked out in my home gym then it was a win-win to me.

“Thanks for the lift, Granny,” I said as I kissed her cheeks after boarding the private jet.

“It’s on the way to New York so it’s no hassle, honey. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Fashion Week with me?”

I grimaced at the idea. “And have you try to use me as a model again, no thanks.”

“What?” she asked innocently as she buckled up into her seat. “You’ve got the legs for it.”

“She’s not wrong,” Pierre whispered in my ear. “They are very sexy.”

I elbowed him lightly but he just laughed it off and I continued on my way down the aisle. Two rows down I found dad, who was half asleep, and heading home to see mum. I sat Addie into the seat beside him and buckled her in before setting up her latest animated fixation, Mulan, on the screen in front of her.

“Let mummy know if you need to go to the loo,” I reminded her before pulling the earphones over her head.

There was no reason to be all sat together so I passed the last two rows before sitting down. There was only the galley behind us but since the flight was a little over two hours I doubted anyone would ask for refreshments and we would be left alone.

“Are you okay?” I asked as we hit some turbulence coming into Heathrow and Pierre clutched the armrest between us. His eyes were closed and his lips pressed in a firm line as he nodded his head. He had been uneasy since takeoff but repeatedly lied and said he was fine. “You couldn’t have picked a sport with more travel if you tried.”

“I’m fine with flying…until it gets bumpy.” He let me pull his hand from the leather material and replaced it with my own as we watched the GPS of the plane inching closer to the airport.

“Miss Vowles, Mr Gasly, if you could please fill these out before we land that would be wonderful,” the stewardess said as she handed me three Passenger Locator Forms before moving on to dad.

I filled out mine and Addie’s while Pierre did his but he took a little longer since he wasn’t a UK Citizen like us and had more pages to complete. I actually had dual citizenship through the ‘grandfather scheme’ which meant I was entitled to apply for citizenship where my parents and grandparents were citizens. Legally, I could hold a passport of Mexico, the USA and the United Kingdom but I preferred to use my UK one since it had the least restrictions.

If Erik ever tried to petition for access to Addie and won, then she could have all three passports and a Norwegian one too.

The thought turned my mood sour and as we touched down on British soil I began to rue my decision to come back. I knew I needed to be here to pack up the house for the move and visit Dr Pascoe in person but there was always a little storm cloud in the back of my mind when I was in London.

The city was tainted of memories with Erik, the restaurants we had eaten at, the cinemas we have gone to. I couldn’t even drive near Islington because that was where our house had been. Just thinking about it had the walls of the plane closing in around me and I reached for the paper bag in the storage pocket.

The paper crinkled in and out with each breath, the speed too fast for any rational thought and shadows moved around me until two faces came into focus.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” dad said but it was hard to catch the slippery words as my head swam. “Deep breath, in through your nose. Do it with me.” I tried to copy him but my intake was as shaky as my hands. “Good girl, now out through your mouth, nice and slow.”

My clothes felt too tight and my hair clung to my clammy forehead and I tried to brush it away but my hands were shaking too much. The strands of hair remained and I grew frustrated.

“I’ve got it, Bri, just focus on breathing,” Pierre said as he brushed it back for me. A cool damp cloth came to rest on my forehead and I closed my eyes as I leant back in the seat. “Mama’s alright, princesse.”

My eyes flashed open to see Addie looking afraid and I opened my arms for her. “Mummy was just a little overwhelmed, sweetie, I’m sorry it scared you.”

“Was it a bad dream again?” she asked as she clung tight to me.

“Kind of. You know, I could do with your help.” She perked up at the idea of helping and listened intently. “We have no food at home, so I need you to choose where we will have brunch. You don’t have to tell me now, but why don’t you hop back in your seat and have a think about it while we land.”

“Come on, little bug,” dad guided her away, his own worried stare looking back at me as he went.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Pierre asked when we were alone but I shook my head.

“No, I just want to erase the memories of this place.” I tipped my head onto his shoulder and looked up at him. “Tell me that it’s possible.”

He kissed my forehead and I cringed as I realised I was a sweaty mess but he didn’t seem to care as he wrapped an arm around me. “I don’t know about erasing them, but we can make new ones instead.”

–

We landed without a fuss and while we were taxiing to the terminal we started to say our goodbyes before we would part ways. Dad was already out of his seat, ignoring the seatbelt sign, and kneeling next to Granny having quiet words with each other before they both looked at me with concern.

Dad rose to his feet and let Addie climb up for a hug, a bright smile deepening the wrinkles at the corners of Granny’s eyes. “I’m going to miss you, honey. You let me know if you want to come visit alright? We’ll get rid of that posh accent in no time.”

“Don’t want you to go, Granny,” she replied with a trembling lip.

Betty sniffled and blinked away the tears that quickly built along her waterline. “You’re going to make me ruin my makeup.”

“You’d still look beautiful,” I said as I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the visit and the ride.”

“Of course, you’re welcome to use it whenever you need, especially trying to juggle work, motherhood and a long distance relationship,” she said looking between Pierre and I. “Take all the help you can get to make it work.”

Pierre’s hand took mine and gave it a squeeze while I answered through my widening smile. “I might take you up on that.”

The Gulfstream had come to a stop and I saw two cars parked outside the little window as the stewardess opened the door. Dad would take one to the domestic terminal for his next flight to Manchester while we would be in the other heading home to Twickenham.

“Oh, and Damien, give my love to Otmar when you see him,” Granny said with a fond smile for the man she thought of as the second child she never had. “I’ll see you in Italy, unless I decide to pop by before that. Never know when I might need a holiday at my age.”

“Mom, you’re retired.”

She scoffed and waved him off. “I retired from designing but I still own the company, dear. I can’t trust anyone else to run it right, unless it’s family.” Her eyes darted to me and I held my hands up.

“Don’t finish that thought, Granny, I’m an engineer - I like tinkering with mechanics and engines.”

“I’ve heard Pierre’s a man of fashion and business or so the internet tells me. You could always marry him. Just an idea, honey.” She sent me a wink and I stumbled over my feet, nearly sending myself out down the steps. “Take care of my precious babies, Mr Gasly.”

“Nothing would make me happier,” he replied with such sincerity that I missed the step in front of me and his hand shot out, catching my arm and pulling me back. “Was that a test?”

“No,” I sighed and blew a strand of hair out of my face with a huff. “That's just how clumsy I am. Let’s go before I break my neck and never get to walk down the aisle Granny’s busy daydreaming about now.”

“I’ve had the design of your wedding dress waiting since you were 18. You tell me when to start sewing it.”

“Bye Granny, bye Matthew!” I concentrated on walking down the stairs with an amused Pierre behind me carrying Addie and dad coming down last.

“Your mother said she’s blocked out her calendar for Wednesday if you can come to dinner.”

I looked at Pierre since he was meant to be flying to Paris on Thursday morning and Addie and I would be flying into Rouen to meet him on Saturday. “It’s a four hour drive.”

“It shouldn’t be difficult to change my flight to leave from Manchester instead, if you want to stay the night?”

I nodded to dad, “it’s a tentative yes but I’ll let you know once he’s checked the flights. Addie say bye-byes to grandad.”

Our farewells were far quicker and our luggage had already been put into the cars by the time we were finished and going our own separate ways. I would have preferred to have my own car but it was at home after getting a cab to the airport when we left two weeks ago but thankfully it wasn’t peak rush hour and it wasn’t too far to get home.

“Addie, have you decided where you want to eat?”

“The dog park!”

Pierre looked aghast as he spun in his passenger seat at the front and I laughed at the face he pulled. “It’s just a cafe that happens to be on the same block as a dog park. It’s called Ivy and she knows it too,” I said as I tickled Addie’s toes for being a little trickster. “It’s just around the corner from our house so we can drop the bags off first and walk.”

He relaxed back into his seat knowing he wasn’t going to be eating in a dog park and I scoured the inside pockets of my handbag until I found my keys. I gripped the remote to the front gate as the driver pulled onto our street and suddenly had a new fear - had I tidied the house before we left? No. The answer was, no. I had been running around like a madwoman trying to get Addie ready so I decided the toys on the floor and unfolded washing on the couch could wait for my return.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath and Pierre’s eyes shot to me through the little mirror on his sun visor, his eyebrow cocked in a silent question. “My house is a fucking mess.”

Click here for chapter eighteen.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @anotheroneiforgot

#pierre gasly x poc!oc #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly x oc #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #running from the flames

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savebatsartedition · 4 months ago

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Whumptober 2024 Day 30!!

Summary:

Wally lays in his hospital bed. Emerald watches on. Prompt: RECOVERY | Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

Notes:

I wrote this while looping Meteor Shower by Cavetown, who isn’t a regular artist for me. (But one I like a LOT.) Perhaps that’s why I wrote a ship I like a LOT but haven’t really ever written before. :) Content Warnings: Crying, hospital setting, implied/referenced asthma attack and something else probably, mentions of ableism, past bullying Words: 1,048

(Fic also under the cut.)

Despite the fact that this marked the tenth time it had happened, Emerald was scared.

His hands twitched as they held the thin fabric of his green and red tunic. He wanted to move them, to hold Wally's hand or pet his hair gently. To do something that could maybe actually be of help to his sick boyfriend. Boyfriend? It had been such a short time of them actually being officially together that Emerald really couldn't think the word without a feeling of wonder washing over him.

But as his eyes burned with tears in the familiar prick of pain that all his life he had fought to hold back and ignore, that feeling of wonder was closer to one of horror. Wally had, as far as Emerald had known him or been told about his childhood, always been a rather sickly kid. As the green hair stereotype went, he was the type of person who could get hurt just by running too fast. The type of kid to recognize the white walls of a hospital room more than those of his own bedroom back home.

But he had never let that stop him. Like Emerald, Wally had always wanted to fight for more and to keep moving, despite everything about his physical body that tried to hold him back. Like Emerald, he wanted more than to be looked down on and coddled or laughed at. Emerald respected that, loved it, and loved the way it meant that Wally could understand him.

They were so similar, the two of them. Fit to be nervous around the word, but boyfriends nonetheless.

And now he was in the hospital again, hooked up to several beeping machines as Emerald waited at his bedside for him to wake up. He should be fine, he always was. The combination of super potions and surgery nearly always did a guy good, but that didn't mean Emerald wasn't rocking back and forth in near panic anyway.

:Oh Arceus,“ he whispered to the beeping room (he wasn't even religious, but he invoked the Pokemon's name aloud anyway), ”Please let him be okay,“

Honestly, he hardly even knew what had happened. It had been just the two of them, practicing a few moves with their Sceptile, and suddenly Wally had collapsed onto the ground. No matter how much the doctor had reassured him that he had done nothing wrong, and that Wally would be okay, and that the Super Potion that had been sprayed down his throat was enough to keep a man almost unharmed without air for up to ten minutes, Emerald still blamed himself.

What had he done, what had he done?!

He stared at Wally's still form. Hooked up to machines that Emerald had always been too orphan and homeless to see before starting to go out with Wally, he was quiet. Emerald would have called it too quiet, if he couldn't see the blankets rising and falling gently over his boyfriend's chest. (And if he hadn't always seen his seniors frozen into literal stone just a few years prior.)

They were okay. Wally would be okay. He always was. Recovery was sort of his thing! If the professors had kept it in their heads that he was a true dexholder, he could have been named something about it, that was how good he was. (Emerald hardly felt he deserved his own name, despite how impressed he was of his own skills, whenever he watched Wally go through the daily treatments he needed to complete just to keep fighting.)

But just knowing all that didn't make it any easier to hold back the tears. Emerald may have been a ridiculously strong trainer (and, let's face it, a ridiculously strong human being in general), but that didn't mean he hadn't missed out on a good cry over close friends he should have been able to have earlier in his life. This young man was his first boyfriend, and, honestly, one of his first actual friends. Just knowing he would be okay didn't mean that Emerald suddenly could ignore the idea that he wouldn't.

Emerald wiped his eyes on his oversized sleeve and sniffed loudly. His bangs, which he had allowed to grow out slightly without the gem to center them there, fell into his face and green eyes. Despite how hard he tried to force them dry, they still swam with tears to the point of blurriness.

Wally stirred slightly and Emerald looked up with hope. For a few seconds there was nothing, and then Wally's eyes were opening and searching the room. He did not seem the least bit surprised to find himself there, and smiled when Emerald made his way into his vision.

”Emerald,“ he murmured, his voice a decent bit scratchy but definitely better than it would have been if Emerald hadn't forced that super potion down his throat, ”Your face is really red.“

Emerald sniffed for longer than was probably necessary and wiped his eyes again to cover them, hoping against hope that he wouldn't just start sobbing. He was strong, he had to be. (Despite the fact that it was just him and Wally there, he couldn't help but automatically assumed someone would burst in and start laughing at him.)

”Ahw Emerald,“ Wally said, sitting up as best he could, ”It's okay, I'm right here...“

”That's not right,“ Emerald half joked, half sobbed, ”I'm the one who's supposed to be comforting YOU.“

He felt weak, weird, like the world had almost been pulled away from him but had been brought back at the last second. He felt like younger him would have laughed at him just as hard as those bullies once would have.

But Wally wasn't like those bullies, or like Emerald had once been. He was just Wally. Adventurous, sickly, strong, lovely Wally. ”Why can't you do both?“ Wally asked him with what must have been a slight smile, ”You beat Ruby and Sapphire once, you know. Can't you do anything?“ He laughed quietly, and Emerald finally tore his face out of his sleeves. Snickering (with difficulty) despite everything.He was so glad that Wally was okay, he was alright with looking a little stupid. He loved him. There was nothing more that he could hope to do.

#whumptober2024 #no.30 #RECOVERY | Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | ''What have I done?''#writing #fanfic #pokespe #pokemon adventures #pokemon special #hospital #crying #asthma attack #ableism mention #past bullying #trainer wally #trainer emerald #whumptober

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