#handshake was a bit sweaty

[fishthegenderwitch]

Well goodness.

I have had a dreamy crush on Ben Barnes for literal years, and a man walked in today who looked like him IMMENSELY.. greeted me like a friend and started chatting me up about.. everything. It was mesmerizing. I am enthralled.

It was this man with lighter hair and blue eyes. I know his name. He asked mine and introduced himself, after talking for 20 minutes.

Today is s goshdarn great day.

[dmitriene]

continuation to this small work, cw: two freaks in love.

könig finds out you're kind of shy, a meek, pretty thing, sure, you send him such a revealing, unabashed polaroid pictures, but now, with him appearing out of nowhere at your door, giant and rugged, your fingers fiddle nervously at your own clothes, tugging down and trembling at your sides, wide eyes looking at the letter he holds in his gloved hand, from colonel, to you, name written by the way you already memorized, making you understand that it's really him.

the man you sent your nudes to, who would've know that he'd get so obsessed to try and find you like possessed dog, but you welcome him nonetheless, shuffling aside to let him in, bend his head down with a curl to his back so he would get past the doorway to your living room, dirty boots leaving a crumbs of dirt, his gear coated in things you don't want to know about, but his bright, unmovingly focused eyes look at you with a crinkle of delight, pupils could've dilate by now.

sure, könig is a little bit sad you didn't welcome him naked, or undressing at the very first sight of him, but he can work from what he got, from your shy touches when he wraps a hand around yours, for a handshake, that's it, but his by now ungloved, sandpapered fingers rub and circle around your wrist, curious, almost shuddering at the feel of your much smoother, gentle skin against his, and just this is enough to turn him on, cock swelling hard in his cargos.

he wonders if you'll let him bend you over the couch and eat your pussy from the back, or just stretch your pretty hole around his swollen cock, but you ask him questions, how he found you, why, does he wants something to eat, but könig already plans a small wedding for you two so he could make you his forever, an adorable housewife that will take care of her hard working husband with sending him pictures of her holes he could pump full after coming home.

könig tells you everything, how much times you made him cum, that he fantasized about you in any possible situation and position, dreamed of entering his quarters, and instead of a empty, boring room see you curled at his bed, his thumb tracing along your knee all the while he babbles your ears off with all disgusting, horny talks, but it's amuses you, to the point your thighs start to clench together, pressing harsh, as you lean in, watching his eyes nearly eclipse from the very little contact.

you put the letter he brought aside on the table, instead, asking your questions, and then answering his, which only contain of awkward, boyish laugh and stuttering words of if he looks the way you imagined, and könig is, a little bit awkward, in the same time cocky enough to touch you, nearly groping, looking enchanted on the outline of your breasts from beneath your sleeping shirt, before rubbing an sweaty hand against the back of his hooded head, such a silly man.

nearly jumps out of his pants when you offer him to take a bath at your place, voice mellowy and inviting, and könig trots behind you with a wagging tail when you lead the way, filling the bath full of warm water and couple drops of shower gel, making some bubbles that not really suit him, but would make the room smell nice and block out all that reeks out from him when he starts to undress, preening under your touch when you help to unclasp couple of things off his gear, könig holding down from to not shove your hand down his crotch.

it's when you join him that he gets insistent, all your shy act dropping down, your nails raking down the expanse of his toned, tissued back with tiny, reddening streaks, as könig corners you against the bathtub ceramic, moaning raggedly and humping your pussy persistently, messy, hips grinding and twitching, and the way he acts so eager and silly makes you really aroused, mewling right against his wet ear as he sloppily makes out with your neck, his hair and stubble rubbing all over your sensitive, bruised skin, sharp teeth's closing around the warmed flesh.

seems like now, you have a strange kind of boyfriend, a military colonel, a right pervert, and a pussy drunk pup that pumps your soppy, gummy cunt full of his thick, creamy release, one he kept in his balls especially for your meeting, his vision nearly blackening from how long his cock throbbed and spurted, squeezed tight by your pulsing, milking walls, enjoying your palms stroking his face, cooing at him hushed and lulling, everything könig dreamt of.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[yuvany]

HEART SHAPED EYES

꒰ 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 when they're caught admiring you ꒱

OT7 ENHYPEN x f ! reader CONTENT / WARNING(S) fluff WORD COUNT : 976 CHECK BOX !!

don't forget to reblog or like if you liked this !

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

"You look like a fool, Heeseung." His friend, Riki commented with a cackle and cheeky grin. "You don't get it, you're too young." Heeseung snaps back, his eyes still trailing your figure as you walk around the library with your friends whilst looking at books, giggling amongst yourselves. "If you really love her, just go and confess." Heeseung shakes his head with a click of his tounge. "I can't." "Then don't stare at her like you two are already together." Riki rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers in his face to wake his friend from his trance that you had unintentionally set him under. "I'm not staring!" He calls out, a bit too loud, accidentally making you and your friends' heads turn to him.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

He had stayed behind after their training session to 'catch-up' on his own. The others believed him and told him goodnight before heading to their own rooms. Jay hums to himself and groove along to the songs he had been singing. Jay takes a deep breath and picks up his phone to send you a message. As he clicks the send button, he sprung up and throws his phone onto the bags for a cushioned landing before running around the studio. After calming down, he sits in front of the mirror and looks at himself before talking with himself. "y/n, you are so pretty and funny-" before he manages to finish, he hears the door creak open and Jake walks inside with a stunned face. "I heard that." "No you didn't." Jake then bursts out laughing.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

He had created a playlist just for you, though it was more like a playlist inspired or meant for you since he never had the courage to confess his feeling. The playlist was labelled with your initial and a heart, and set on private so that no one, absolutely no one, would figure out his little secret. Jake had been playing the same playlist for what seemed to be over a week by now, but he could never get tired of it. One day though, he shared his airpod with Sunghoon. "This song is nice. What is it called?" He asked, and Jake carelessly handed his phone over to Sunghoon who looked at the screen, his eyes noticing the title of the playlist. "Am I seeing this correct?" Jake starts getting sweaty and gulps. "What?" "The name of the playlist is very...how do I say this." Jake snatches his phone back, cutting him off.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

You had tagged along for their photoshoot to help when needed. It all seemed to go smoothly, everyone knowing what to do and the day's schedule. You had gone onto your phone, trying to find something to entertain you when Sunghoon walks up to you. He clears his throat nervously. You look up and raise an eyebrow. "Hey y/n." Sunghoon stands there awkwardly with his hands on the sides of his body. "Hi Hoon. Need something?" You ask. "Could you help me with this tie, please." He says and hands you a navy and white striped tie. "Of course." You smile, and stand up from your seat. As you tie it around his neck, his eyes are glued to your face and slowly trail down to your lips. Of course Jake had to bump into his shoulder just then and give him a smirk.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

Everyone was gathered behind the scene, you as their special guest and vip to be able to support them from behind the stage. Everyone poses at the sound of their manager counting down and then the camera snaps. The two youngest run over and inspect the photo closely before calling the rest over as well. You take a quick glance at it and approve of it. "Could you send it to me later, please?" You ask, and they nod. You then take a look at the time and say farewell because you need to be part of the crowd, and they let you go after handshakes and hugs. "Sunoo, look here." Riki taps Sunoo on the shoulder and points to him in the photo where he is looking at something. "What is it?" Sunoo asks, and Jungwon who at first was confused finally seemed to connect the dots and balled up in laughter. Riki's pointer travles to where Sunoo's eyes are, and they led to you.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

"You're doing it again." Sunoo sighs from beside him. Jungwon looks at him puzzled and then turn around again, trying to remember what he was doing. "Doing what?" He asks. Sunoo diverts his eyes over to you before looking at him again. When Jungwon doesn't get it, Sunoo repeats it again, but a lot faster and aggrevated. Sunoo sighs before leaning over to whisper to Jungwon, "You've been staring at her for a while. Again." When Sunoo parts he sees that Jungwon's eyes have been connected with you again. "So?" He asks. "So...it's creepy." Sunoo wrinkles his forehead in confusion and looks inbetween you and Jungwon before groaning and giving up.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

When rehearsing, Riki finds himself turing to you for feedback and opinions even though he is a lot more of an exppert when it comes to dancing than you. "It literally looks perfect, not sure what input I should make?" You comment, shifting your weight from one leg to another as you speak with him, your eyes shifting around the room's ceiling. "Really? Thanks." He says and spins around, letting you be for a while. As he is faced away from you, he has a grin on his face. The rest of his group members stare at him with wide eyes as they look around to see if anyone else was seeing what they were seeing. "What?" Riki hisses after noticing. "You're lovetsruck and it shows bro."

[cas-spirit]

Give me more platonic affection.

Give me omega timeline residents approaching Asgores because they give the best hugs.

Give me Ink, learning about physical affection by observing people, having Blue explain the different ways people hold hands. Him tackling Top and Aster to the ground trying to figure out how hugs go.

Give me Dream who only cries when someone’s hugging him because it’s the only time he feels shielded enough to break.

Give me Nightmare and Error, who after years of working together, finally end their deals with a handshake.

Give me Blueberror who’s off button is any kind of physical affection.

Give me Core Frisk, still a child, clinging to people’s hands, holding a larger hand in both of theirs.

Givr me Nightmare falling asleep on a movie night and the rest of the gang can’t move because his tendrils lay on top of them like sleeping cats.

Give me Blue forcing his two semi-immortal friends into cuddle piles so they actually sleep for once.

Give me Fresh showing trust by letting people hold his head, so close to the eyesockets that hold his true form.

Give me Error and Geno readjusting to touch after the emptiness of their containments, telling the other that they’re there by knocking knees.

Give me Frisks in the omega timeline offering a shoulder to lean on for Charas, or anyone who asks.

Give me Underfell where the skelebros curl up around eachother to watch the other’s back, even in sleep.

Give me Outertales where handholding is common to make sure no one floats off into space.

Give me Gasters who use their many hands to give head pats to their sons/coworkers (Sans, Papyrus, and Alphys) as well as doing science work stuff.

Give me Nightmare who curls his tendrils on top of his subordinate’s heads like a strange pat on the back.

Give me Horror who will simply pick his teammates up and hold them like the wet cats they are.

Give me Cross who’s so unused to any physical affection he freezes up, and Killer using this to his advantage by grabbing his hand to distract him from the cow nearby or to get him to stop training for a bit.

Give me Nightmare laying a tendril over Dream’s shoulder to remind himself that his twin is there, and they aren’t fighting anymore.

Give me Dusts that will curl up on top of people like a cat.

Give me Inks who give surprise hugs to his friends.

Give me Errors who wrap his strings around people to give them hugs.

Give me Horror Papyrus becoming the center of hug piles in Nightmare’s gang because the boys miss their brothers a lot, and he’s the closest they’ll get with the gang’s reputation.

Give me Killer, just met Nightmare, and the baby goop clings to him while they explore the multiverse.

Give me Ink and Error pulling eachother along by the scarfs.

Give me Dancetale where duo dances end with a hug (or high five if too sweaty for a hug)

Give me Fell Papyrus holding Fell Sans’s hand out and about, using the excuse of making sure Sans doesn’t wander off when asked.

Give me post-truce spontaneous skeleton cuddle piles.

Give me Killer randomly tackling his teammates.

Give me Ink being so physically affectionate people think he’s flirting (he’s not).

Give me Papyrus calling Sans a cat while he curls up on his shoulder.

Give me Sans holding Geno’s hand carefully when things get a bit too much after his time of the Save Screen.

Give me careful fingers tracing the edges of Papyrus’s rarely-seen hands.

Give me Dust trying, and failing, to touch his Papyrus.

Give me Passive Nightmare’s ghost curling up around Dream’s shoulders like a purple boa, hugging him around the neck when things get rough.

Give me the gang curling up on Nightmare’s tendrils when he’s not paying attention.

Give me Dream learning about the different meanings behind touch after he breaks out of stone.

Give me Gaster’s who are almost too scared to embrace Sans and Papyrus incase getting out of the void was a dream, and Papyrus accidentally sending him to the floor with his enthusiastic hug.

Give me Undyines randomly carrying their Alphys around.

Give me Frisks who press their forehead onto people (Sans’s back, Papyrus’s thigh, Toriel and Asgore’s arm, Alphy’s side, Undyne hip) and lean on them.

Give me Frisks who randomly lean on people, almost falling over because Chara is a ghost and incapable of being my leaned on.

Give me Dust laying his head on Killer’s lap when Killer gets twitchy, because what’s he gonna do, move Dust?

Give me Error who’s glitching feels kinda like a massage, holding his hands to Nightmare’s back, Horror’s skull, or Geno’s wherever when they get pain.

Give me Ink who uses hand holding like a recalibration test after he goes blank.

Give me hand holding and head pats and hugs and cuddle piles.

Givemegivemegivemegivemegivemegiveme

[misctf]

Country Living

When he stopped to help you on the side of this lonely country road, you couldn’t have been more grateful. You didn’t expect your car to breakdown on these desolate backroads. Nor did you expect a lack of cell service. Your years studying in college didn’t exactly give you the knowledge on how to diagnose and fix cars. But based on all the smoke, you figured something was wrong.

“Aw, don't you worry none, I'm right happy to help y'all out.” He removed his ball cap and ran his hand through his short brown hair, “Name’s Bucky. What brings y'all to this neck of the woods?”

He was certainly taller and more muscular than you- not to mention ripe with the smell of a hard day’s work. And you could tell he was looking you over, the juxtaposition couldn’t have been clearer. Country vs city boy, manual laborer vs keyboard warrior, dropped out of high school vs college educated. The list could go on. But despite the bias you held towards these country folks, you were happy he was helping. And so you introduced yourself and expressed your sincere gratitude. Bucky smiled and gave you a bone crushing handshake.

“Ain't no trouble at all, I'm just glad to help out.” He smiled warmly, his dark eyes, while lacking intelligence, were filled with kindness and just a bit of mischief.

He winks at you and you felt your heart flutter for just a moment. Maybe it was the way his stubble framed his tanned face. Or the way the sweat dripped from his muscular arms as he worked on your car. Or perhaps it was the occasional glances he gave you and the sly smirk that told you he knew you were checking him out.

“I reckon I know what's wrong. Just need to grab a tool from my garage.” He said, wiping the sweat from his brow, “You care to join me? Looks like you could use a sip of somethin’.”

It was true. In the sweltering heat, you were certainly thirsty. And while part of you wanted to stay with your car, you felt beckoned to go with him. And so you did. You climbed into his pick-up truck and watched as he revved the engine. And before long, you were cruising down the old country road with your car disappearing from sight.

“Well, dang if this ain't my favorite tune!” Bucky said, turning up the volume, “You figure you into this kinda music?”

It was some country song. One about cars, beer, and living on a farm. Not something you’d listen to voluntarily. But as Bucky sang in his southern twang, you found your foot tapping along. Soon you were mouthing the words, almost as if you knew the song by heart. And a moment later you joined in with him, the two of you putting your hearts into every lyric. You barely noticed the southern twang that garnished your voice.

“Well, I'll be darned! Can’t believe you like these kinda tunes. No offense intended, but you don't quite fit the mold, do ya?” He says with a chuckle.

Bucky gives your arm a playful punch and you look down at the exposed, tanned skin of your bicep. Your muscles were contracting and seemingly getting larger, highlighted nicely by the wifebeater that clung tightly to your skin. You look up at Bucky and he gives you a wink. Again, you feel comforted by his kind smile and playful dark eyes. You turn away and absentmindedly run a hand over your growing biceps. So firm and tight, the skin somewhat weathered. But deep down you know something isn’t right. Its nagging at you, begging for you to say something. To at least find out what’s happening to you. You want to tell Bucky, but he’s just pulled up to his garage.  

“Mind givin’ me a hand findin’ my toolkit?” Bucky asks. You nod quickly- your anxiety being pushed deep into your subconsciousness. And as Bucky enters the garage, he pulls off his sweaty wifebeater, “Don't pay me no mind, it sure gets mighty hot 'round these parts. You’re welcome to do the same.”

And you follow his example. As you do, you catch a whiff of your pits. The musk that invades your nostrils is a far cry from the vegan deodorant you applied this morning. Moreso, your usually well-trimmed pit hair is now a curly damp bush of dark brown hairs that poke out when you lower your arms. The smell makes you dizzy and you feel like you might fall over, but Bucky lends you a hand.

“Don’t go faintin’ on me now.” He says with a grin, “We got a lotta work to do.”

“Don't you worry 'bout me none, I got this here handled.” You say- the words leaving your mouth without much input from your brain. Bucky’s eyes light up and he grins.

“I shoulda known that.” His laugh fills your ears and you swear it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard. He notices you admiring him, “Gotta find those tools now.”

You nod and start rummaging through his garage and workbench. You pick up a wrench and place it down. Then another and another. You never really needed to learn basic mechanic stuff, let alone the names of wrenches. You were more focused on your degree. Your degree in... In...? You stare at the composite wrench in your hand and your eyes narrow. You were studying something at that univer... uni... book-learnin’ place of yours, right? Your thoughts are distracted when some oil spills on your hands.

“Gosh darnit.” You mutter, wiping the oil on your work jeans. Work jeans that were stained and torn from years of laboring.

You turn towards Bucky to say something, but instead find yourself gawking. His perfect stubble across his face, the sweat gleaming on his firm and toned muscles, and the way his chest hairs frame his pecs. Your dick gets hard and you quickly start to massage your bulge. And when you see how well his work jeans fit tightly around his juicy ass, you can’t but help let out a whistle.

“You say somethin’?” He asks, turning to face you, “Yeehaw! Look at you!” He says, clearly gawking.  

You turn to catch a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror and your eyes widen. You bounce your juicy pecs, appreciating the light dusting of hairs that decorate them. You raise your thick, meaty arm and flex, causing your muscles to bulge. And then you look at your face. It had squared out a bit, giving it a masculine edge and your cheeks now sported stubble. You felt powerful, and you couldn’t help but continue to flex.

“Hey there big fella.” You let out a masculine moan as Bucky comes from behind you, his arm reaching around, and his hand grabbing a fistful of your muscle tit, “You’re bigger’n a bull in springtime!” You just nod, unable to produce words as pleasure courses through you from his teasing hand, “It sure does get lonesome out here in these parts. Reckon I wouldn’t mind some company, if it ain’t too much trouble.”

He spins you around, your bodies pressing up against one another. His hand moves down your abs and then down your work jeans. He’s staring deep into your eyes now, a primal lust replacing the prior warmth from earlier. And for the first time, you feel lost. Scared even. As though you’re going down a path you wouldn’t be able to back away from. The end of one chapter of your life and the start of another you weren’t sure you wanted.

“Wait a minute... somethin’ don’t feel right. I... this ain’t who I am.” You say, unable to talk like you used to.

“Now, don’t go overthinkin’ it. Just keep your eyes on me.” Bucky whispered, his hands working to undo the buckle on your jeans.

You watch as he pulls down your pants and slowly gets down on his knees. Your enlarged, throbbing dick continues to grow, adding inch after inch. Bucky is nearly salivating as he comes face to face with your monster, and without another word, his tongue traces along the shaft. You moan as his mouth expertly works your cock. He bobs up and down, taking its entirety into his mouth. You feel as his hands wrap around your waist and he grabs a fistful of your muscular ass, causing you to let out another deep, masculine moan. You can feel your dick throbbing, your balls growing heavy with your seed. And as he expertly works the head of your cock, you can feel it. You’re getting close... so close. And then it stops. You’re breathing heavy now, and you look down at him. A sheen of sweat covers your body, dampening your body hair and filling the air with your country musk.

“Wh... why’d ya stop?” You breath out.

Bucky smirks, “You sure 'bout this, darlin’? Leavin’ behind all that city livin’ and book-learnin’? Just you and me, livin’ simple out here?” He licks along your shaft again, “Once you say yes, that’s it. No turnin’ back, no second thoughts. You sure you’re ready for that?”

Was this what he wanted? To bring you so close? To send you into a horny frenzy? To make it so that in this moment, all you’d be able to say was yes? With a smirk and a wink, he went back to sucking your cock. And as he did, you could feel it. You could feel your brain shrinking. Your memories growing up in suburbia vanished. As were your memories of going to college in the city. Nerdy interests like videogames and comic books vanished from your brain, and you felt terror as you forgot about your friends and family. Everything that made you you was vanishing from your mind. Instead, you could feel new interests: farming, hunting, woodworking, lifting weights, and drinking beer with your husband after a long day. Your fashion sense simplified: wifebeaters and work jeans, and honestly going shirtless was preferred. And as your eyes dimmed to reflect your lack of intelligence, and Bucky bobbed up and down on your dick, you finally came, releasing all of who you used to be. And as you filled your husband’s eager throat, you blacked out.

If someone told you who you used to be in your past life, I’m not sure you would go back. When the police came by a few days after your transformation with a missing persons poster of some kid, you had no idea who they were talking about. You quickly forgot all about that encounter. You had more important things like fixing the truck. But before you did that, you should check on Bucky. It’s been a few days, and your balls were mighty full.

[sturnioz]

imagine frat!boy chris loosing reader at a party baisically going crazy not being able to find her then he finds her passed out drunk somewhere then princess carrying or over the shoulder carrying ( you choose ) her to his bedroom then taking care of her AHHH

sorry i fw frat!boy chris fluff heavy

you are only supposed to grab a drink — so what the fuck is it taking so long? chris' eyebrows knit together in frustration as he pushes himself off of the sofa, adjusting the cap on his head as he shoves through the crowd of sweaty bodies, peering over their heads to try and catch a glimpse of you.

the pulsating music of the frat house thumps in his chest, but it's drowned out by the growing annoyance in his mind as he chews on his cheek, a tell-tale sign of his growing irritation, ignoring anyone who dares reach out for him — whether they want to talk or buy drugs, he doesn't give a fuck.

his mind is solely focussed on finding you.

chris pushes his way into the kitchen, full of drunken bodies, some lost in conversation while others are high, eyes glazed and minds somewhere else. it's a familiar scene — one he's seen countless times — but tonight, the sight of tangled limbs and slurred words only heightens his frustrations.

he scans the room, searching for you, but his gaze meets a sea of other faces, causing the knot in his stomach to tighten, and his fists to clench and unclench at his sides, knuckles cracking.

he does spot matt in the corner of the kitchen though, absorbed in his phone with a joint dangling lazily from his lips. chris moves forward through the crowd, ignoring a girl who reaches out to him with a flirtatious giggle, her attempts to grab his attention fading into the background.

as he approaches matt, he cuts straight to the point, direct as he asks. "you seen the kid anywhere?"

matt looks up, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips as he answers, "like, five minutes ago, yeah."

chris almost rolls his eyes. "right, 'kay, so," chris gives him a look, his impatience bleeding through. "where is she now?"

"nate 'n his girl dragged her to play beer pong or some shit."

chris rolls his tongue across his teeth and nods his head slowly, turning sharply to head towards the familiar spot where the beer pong table usually stands. the crowd shifts around him as he moves, but when chris approaches, his brows furrow deeper when he finally spots nate with his girl — your friend — huddled together, alone.

nate's eyes light up when he sees chris, a drunken grin stretching across his face. he loosens his grip on your friends waist, letting her sway slightly as he steps froward to greet chris with a handshake.

chris' grip is firm but distracted, his gaze immediately flicking to the beer pong table, where empty cups lay askew, remnants of a game that has clearly gone off the rails.

"where is she?" chris asks, tone sharp and urgent.

nate shrugs nonchalantly, laughter bubbling in his throat. "i dunno, probably throwin' up or somethin' — she lost baaad, bro," nate thumps his chest with a fist. "undefeated beer pong champion."

chris feels his irritation spike, nearly pushing him over the edge. "you uh, you let her get fucked up?"

nate seems to sense chris' attitude and sobers up just a bit. "hey, easy... its a game, yeah? she's safe in here."

ignoring nate's reassurance, chris' gaze locks onto your friend, snapping. "why didn't you go with her?"

"she's a grown adult," your friend drawls drunkenly with a roll of her eyes. "let her live."

chris' lips curl into a humourless smile, a bitter laugh escaping him as he turns to nate, pointing to your friend. "y'know, she uh, she was fuckin' tom before gettin' with you.. and y'know tom has that thing, so.."

nate's expression shifts from confusion to horror, his eyes widening as his head snaps towards your friend, who screeches back angrily, spitting drunken curses at chris who walks away without a word.

he heads towards the crowded staircase, moving through through the bodies in the slightly vacant hallways, stepping over discarded cups and spilled drinks that litter the floor as he approaches the main bathroom at the end of the hall.

his fist curls tightly around the handle, and without bothering to check if it's free, chris pushes the door open. the hinges creak slightly, and his gaze immediately lands on your passed-out body sprawled next to the toilet.

a deep exhale escapes him, his jaw clenched tight as he steps further into the cramped space. the familiar stench of stale beer hits him hard, mixing with the faint smell of vomit, and his nose wrinkles in disgust, shaking his head as he crouches down beside you. his heart races a little with a mix of irritation and slight concern, and he reaches out, tapping your cheeks gently.

"hey, kid," he says, his tone sharp but low, echoing in the tiled room. when you remain unresponsive, he taps again, a little harder this time. "wake up, dumbass."

with no reaction, chris leans in closer, his hair brushing against your face, the strands falling like a curtain as he listens to the laboured rhythm of your breathing. his expression subtly shifts, a flicker of worry breaking through his irritation.

"great," he mutters under his breath, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

with a huff, he awkwardly slips his arms around your body, feeling the dead weight of you against him. he adjusts his grip carefully, his muscles straining as he lifts you up, your head lolling against his shoulder.

he carries you out of the bathroom and into his own room, kicking the door open with his foot and closing it behind him with the same motion. he eases you down onto his unmade bed, letting out a frustrated sigh, his tongue prodding at his cheek.

he kneels beside you and begins to untie the laces of your shoes, tossing them carelessly to the ground with a dull thump. he glances at your face, the discomfort evident even in your unconscious state, and his expression softens slightly as he unbuttons your jeans, pulling the material down your legs gently.

his hands reach for your shirt next, but he pauses when you make a soft, gargled noise, and his eyes flit back up to your face.

"s'me, kid," chris murmurs, low and steady. "calm down."

you seem to respond to his voice, the noises fading as he pulls the shirt off your body. he throws your clothes into the hamper beside his bathroom door, then grabs one of his own shirt — a soft, oversized shirt that he dresses you with a little difficulty due to you not cooperating.

"know y'can hear me," chris grumbles under his breath. "makin' me dress you like a fuckin' baby.. could be helpin' me, make this shit a lot easier f'you. but naaaah.. gotta do alllll the work."

[unsolvedjarin]

Hi! If this inspires you, could you write a platonic fic where reader (who is around Charles’ age and is also teammates with him at Ferrari) is on the podium alongside him and Seb (this being set when Seb is at AM), but like that video or Lewis (that I can’t remember when it’s from) she already seemed exhausted while receiving her trophy, and when they exit the podium, she collapses onto Seb? Just hurt/comfort vibes from both drivers, really. Maybe Seb is close to her like a mentor, he’s worried about her? I think that’s it. Even if you don’t find it inspiring, thank you for sharing your fics. They’re really good. 😊💚

note: thank you for the kind words anon! i saw the word “exhausted” in the request and i kinda ran with it so this might have strayed from the original idea a little bit, but i hope it’s to your liking!

gif by overtake

THERE FOR YOU

pairing: (sebastian vettel x ferrari driver! reader, can be read as platonic or romantic) (charles leclerc x platonic! reader)

summary: you overwork yourself, and pay the consequences for it by passing out on the podium. lucky for you, a certain german driver has the means to catch you and take care of you.

word count: 2.1k

content warning: hurt/comfort, mostly fluff, not grammar checked writing because its 2am

You were going to throw up or faint any time now, you were sure of it.

“Are you sure you’re good?” A voice asked from beside you. You recognized it to be Charles, who was preparing for the race the same as you were.

“With this excessive asking I won’t be,” you retorted.

“I’m just looking out for you, amour. You haven’t been looking great.”

He was right, you looked awful. Everyone knew Spa was a tough track, but you looked like you had just gotten back from war— and the Sunday race hadn't even started yet.

You’d been feeling horrible all Saturday, but decided to ignore it. After all, Ferrari was counting on you that day to get a high position in quali since Charles was out in Q2.

You were starting in 4th today, Ferrari praising you for your good qualifying result. But the sleepless nights on the simulator along with the strain of being in a car going roughly 200 mph yesterday were detrimental to your health.

But of course, you were too stubborn to call in sick for Sunday— Ferrari was counting on you. And you couldn’t let them down.

“AND IT’S LIGHTS OUT IN SPA!”

The race was long and tedious, but eventually you managed to overtake Lewis and end up p3. Considering the heavy rain and how Charles spun out, you were surprised you even made it to the top 5.

You can’t remember how the race ended as you exited your car, weaker than you’ve ever felt before. The roar of the Tifosi was loud, cheering on your podium win. Whenever you won or got a podium they made you feel proud, a large grin on your face and goosebumps all over.

But not today.

Today, it was too loud. Too overwhelming. You could feel your head ache and pound at the noise. You felt a hand on your shoulder, Max coming to congratulate you. You think he had won the race but you couldn’t be sure, everything was too hazy.

“Congrats Y/N! Your first podium this season!”

You give Max a weak smile and a firm handshake, the pressure almost making your vision fade. God you needed to get out of there.

You looked around, there had to be an exit. Some place where you could rest your head for a second and regain your senses.

Thankfully, a guiding hand led you to the cooldown room, and you recognized it as Sebastian’s. He had gotten 2nd, that you knew, you were battling for his position earlier.

Once you got inside the cooldown room, there was no other word that could describe it but moist. The rain outside had moistened up the inside, barely enough to be noticeable, but to you, sweaty from the race and sick, it was enough to have you stumbling onto your chair.

Sebastian could sense something was wrong, he wasn’t stupid. To someone else you would’ve just seemed like someone who was simply exhausted from a race, but he wasn’t someone else. He knew you.

Before he could ask you about it, however, a man led all three of you out the cooldown room to go to the podium itself. You were moving with half-lidded eyes, and a really really sweaty body.

“And in third, the Ferrari favorite, Y/N L/N!”

You raise your arms as high as you can and put up two thumbs up, exerting all your effort to put up a show for the fans. They deserve it, you think.

Unbeknownst to you however, Charles was watching from the side with a worried look. He was the only one who knew about your sickness the past few days, and his concerned eyeing was not ignored by an observant Vettel.

The champagne spraying was everything but fun, the overstimulation getting to you. It was too much, everything was too much.

The sickness, the sweat, the champagne dripping down your face— you just needed to rest for a second, just…lay down maybe…

“Scheiße!” Sebastian shouted out, his voice not heard over the hollering of the fans. With all the chaos of the spraying of champagne and the bellows of the orange army, no one had noticed how you had fallen into Sebastian’s arms, passed out. He had dropped his champagne in the process, and the breaking of the glass was what had gotten Max to notice what happened. He discreetly ushered Charles, who was still watching from the sidelines, to help Sebastian pull your dull body away from the limelight.

People were starting to notice now, and there were worried glances among the fans and the teams, but were eventually calmed down by false reassurances of ‘everything is fine.’

It was not.

You were burning up, a fever so high it would put the sun to shame. Not only that, but Sebastian had noted how you seemed more physically worn than before. Not an unhealthy amount, god knows being an F1 driver wouldn’t allow that, but enough for it to be noticeable.

You were awake at this point already, but still weak. Lying down on a bed in the First Aid tent, your eyes threatened to close on you again, before Ferrari’s resident emergency doctor walked in.

“Well the good news is we don’t have to bring you to a hospital, you just have to get some food in your body and rest.”

That reassured Sebastian a little, but not enough. He needed to see you healthy and well, or he would be a nervous wreck all week. Thanking the doctor, he was left alone in the room with you again.

As much as he wanted to be there for you, Charles was held up by media duties, which meant that it was only you and Sebastian for a good while.

The German had always been kind to you. Not only was he your friend, but he’d also taught you everything he knew, and half your skills were something you had learnt from him. He was your support system, the one who always helped you when you were down, and the one who always had your back as you had his.

That’s why Sebastian didn’t understand why you hadn’t told him about your current ailment.

“When was the last time you slept?” Sebastian asked, the first words he’s spoken to you all day.

Shrugging faintly, you answer, “I don’t know.”

“Have you eaten anything today?”

“No.”

“Have you drank anything today?”

“Some Red Bull,” you mumbled, while attempting to slowly sit up on your bed.

Sebastian sighed. You weren’t taking care of yourself and it was killing him. “Why didn’t you sit this one out if you knew you were sick since yesterday?”

A beat of silence passes, and Sebastian could sense you contemplating if you should tell him the truth or not. He hoped you would do the former.

“…Because Ferrari is counting on me,” you finally answered meekly.

Of course. That was why. Your feeling of obligation to constantly deliver for your team was a feeling each driver shared with their own, but you always went above and beyond. ‘Couldn’t you see how you were much more important than some stupid points?’ Sebastian thinks.

Frowning, he sits down on a chair beside your bed, taking your warm hand and holding it with his own. “Schatzi, you’re hurting yourself. I know you want to deliver for yourself and your team, but this is not the way. If you keep going like this you’ll be sleeping at the wheel and end up worse than you are now. Please, I beg you, take a break.”

You wince internally at his words. He was right. You’d end up in a worse condition if you keep this up and disappoint your team even more.

“I just want to prove myself to Ferrari. Tell them I’m worth it to keep, you know? My contract is expiring soon, and I honestly don't know if any team would pick me up. I feel so— so lost and so hopeless— if I lose my seat I don’t know what to do. I mean I’ve built my entire life up to this, and now I just feel like a burnt out shitty driver.”

You had tears welling in your eyes, and Sebastian was quick to grab some tissue from the bedside table and wipe them away. He hated how you thought so low of yourself, he wished you could see yourself from his view, one of the best drivers and people he’s ever met.

“Your seat doesn’t measure your worth, Amore. Trust me, I know. After Ferrari I didn’t know what to do or where to go, my ‘golden boy’ status had faded and not a lot of teams wanted me anymore. But look at me, I’m here. I’m okay. And you will be too, just not like this.”

His words broke your composure, finally letting out all the stress and pain you’ve endured for days— weeks, even— in the form of full on sobbing. You were grateful for the privacy the room provided, as Sebastian hugged you tightly, not caring if he got your fever too. He whispered sweet words to you, stroking your hair and calming you down.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you darling. Just let it all out,” you hear him murmur into your hair. You’re sure he said more things, but you couldn’t really hear them over the sound of your own sobs.

Eventually the dam dried up, and you attempted to compose yourself and wipe away all the evidence of your tears. Sebastian still held your hand, rubbing it reassuringly, reminding you of his presence. He was always constant in your life. You were thankful for that.

You both sat in the comfortable silence, allowing it to calm you after everything that just happened.

“I’m retiring next year,” Sebastian says out of the blue.

Okay, now you’re no longer calm again.

“I just thought you should be the first to know,” he adds.

“Wh- what? Why? You’re leaving? But no— you’re a pinnacle of the sport! You’re Sebastian Vettel! You can’t leave! You can’t just retire and leave me and- and-” you were starting to see black spots again, your emotions making you forget you were still physically weak.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for him to say that out of nowhere, Seb thinks. But it was now or never, and he wanted you to know before everybody else did. He wasn’t going to tell anyone in advance, but you were special to him. He couldn’t explain it, but you made him realize things in life. The way you enjoyed the little things, the way you laughed at stupid dad jokes, it made Sebastian miss the freedom of just…existing without having to worry about race after race after race.

Silencing you by enveloping your frantic hand with both of his larger ones and shushing you, he replied, “Calm down Liebling, I’m not leaving you. You still have me outside the track, you can visit me anytime and I would gladly let you in. I wouldn’t dare leave your life just like that, I’d never do that to you.”

You smiled softly at his words. He’d never do that to you. That’s why you loved him, whatever type of love it was. He was always there; a constant figure, and that wasn’t about to change. Sure you’d see each other less, but the love would still be there, and that’s all that would matter.

“I would get up and hug you, but I think we’ve both noticed that my body has decided to stop working on me,” you joke. Sebastian rolls his eyes in response, “And who’s fault is that?”

Oops. He got you there. “Mine,” you reply bashfully.

Thankfully he takes pity on you, and adjusts himself instead. “Scooch.” You move aside, giving him space to sit up beside you in your First Aid bed.

Putting his arm around you, he rubs your shoulder gently as you rest your head on his chest. This was nice.

“Don’t you have media duties? Aston Martin will kill you if you miss those,” you ask softly.

Sebastian simply shrugs, “You are more important to me than some reporters milking me for content like I’m a cow.”

His wording made you giggle, and the sound of you happy again makes Sebastian smile. He was going to get a scolding later for missing his duties, and he was definitely going to catch your cold from keeping you this close too, but it was all worth it when he heard that sound of laughter leave your throat.

The next season may be rough, it may not be as kind as this one was. It will be different, it will be lonelier, and it will feel lacking without Sebastian. But right now, as you sit on a bed in comfortable silence in a First Aid tent in Spa, being cared for by a man you care for, you get the sneakiest feeling that yeah— everything will be okay.

[anikaluv]

I'LL ACCEPT YOU —

❤︎︎ pairing: Miles (e!42) × fem!reader

❤︎︎ genre: fluff

❤︎︎ cw:  suggestive, nudes, Mrs. Morales a lil mean to reader at first (motherly instinct at its finest)

❤︎︎ summary: You were at the dinner table, meeting Miles' mom for the first time, when he excused himself to use the bathroom. As you sat there you noticed a polaroid picture of your breasts on the phone case that Miles had left behind. Now, you had to figure out how to explain this unexpected and embarrassing situation to his mother.

❤︎︎ w/c: 2.1k

❤︎︎ a/n: Everyone describes about how you and Rio would be best friends, but ion know, I feel like she’ll be a little skeptical about you like she was with Gwen in the movie. It's her little boy we’re talking about here. <3

Today was the day you finally met Miles' mother, the most important person in his life.

You wished you could have met her sooner, but her demanding schedule at the hospital made it impossible until now, after seven months of dating Miles. You had plenty of time to think about what to say and do, but it didn't stop the nerves from fluttering in your stomach.

"Baby, you'll be fine," Miles reassured you, rubbing your back affectionately. He knew how much meeting his mother weighed on your mind, but he had no doubt that the two of you would get along. As he rang the doorbell, he placed his hand on your waist. "She'll love you, promise."

Though you nodded in response to his kind words, your mind still raced with anxiety. You understood the importance of this dinner and were determined not to mess things up. Your hands started to rub against your jeans, becoming sweaty from the nervousness.

The door creaked open slowly, revealing Mrs. Morales herself, wearing a kitchen apron around her waist. She immediately looked towards Miles, speaking as if you weren't there. "Miles! What's taken you so long to come home? You know you can't-" It was then she finally realized your presence.

She paused mid-sentence, turning her attention to you, giving you a quick up-and-down glance that made you feel insecure about your outfit choice. You knew you should’ve went with the sweater instead of this stupid T-Shirt. "Oh? Hello there, who are you?" she inquired.

Feeling put on the spot, you started to mumble a small introduction, but she asked you to repeat yourself. Before you could gather your thoughts, Miles came to your rescue. "Mamá, este es mi pareja, [your name]” (Mom, this is my lover, [your name] ). Even after Miles introduced you, you could sense that Rio was still on guard, her protective instincts clearly showing proudly.

You held up the little vase of flowers you had bought as a gift for her, feeling a bit on edge as you offered it to her. She took it with a skeptical look in her eyes. " [Your name], it's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Morales," you greeted her politely, extending your hand for a handshake. However, she merely stared at your hand and didn't reciprocate the gesture. Instead, she spoke with a hint of disdain, "Charmed to meet you," leaving you feeling a little embarrassed as you withdrew your hand.

Miles chuckled uncomfortably at the situation and attempted to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Mama! I can smell something from the kitchen all the way from here! Is dinner ready?”, he said, acknowledging the delicious aroma of the food. Like a switch, Rio turned to her son with a warm smile.

“Yes, mi chulo (cutie). I’m almost finished, come eat.” She started to turn around and walk back inside, but then paused and turned her head, giving you a cold stare that seemed to pierce through your soul. “Ah, and you too, I suppose.” You felt a pang of disappointment as you looked at Miles, realizing that things were going downhill so quickly.

He met your gaze with hopeful eyes and spoke to you, "She just needs to get to know you, that's all." It was meant to reassure you, and while you appreciated his support, you couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling in your heart. You sighed deeply.

This was going to be a very long night.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, you’ve been eating for 30 minutes and it was just, awkward.

You could sense Mrs. Morales' disapproval lingering. Miles did his best to ease the atmosphere, cracking jokes and attempting to bridge the gap between you and his mother. However, it seemed that no matter what he did, Mrs. Morales remained distant.

You tried to engage in small talk and show genuine interest in her life, but your efforts seemed futile. Mrs. Morales gave brief responses and didn't seem interested in getting to know you at all. You felt like you were walking on eggshells, afraid to say or do anything that might upset her.

Miles held your hand tightly the whole time, providing you with a comforting anchor as you navigated the tense conversation. Rubbing small circles into your hand as you clenched his tightly every time you were being shot down in discussion . Miles was your rock, he supported you and helped you through everything. You were so grateful that he was always there-

“Hey, ill be right back, I have to use the bathroom.”

What the hell?

Mrs. Morales lifted her head from her food and nodded at him, “Okay, honey.”, however, you weren’t so ecstatic at the idea of Miles leaving you alone with his mother.

"Miles, what on earth are you thinking?" you whisper-shouted to him, panic evident in your voice. He chuckled at your anxious tone. "You'll be fine, trust me, mami. Here, I'll leave my phone here so you know I won't take long." Miles placed his phone on the table, but you couldn't spare it a glance, too busy giving him a look filled with betrayal. "I'll be right back," he reassured, leaving a tender kiss on your temple before standing up and excusing himself one last time.

“Well this is just great”, you thought. Your plate was finished 15 minutes ago, so you’ve just been with talking to Miles and trying to include Rio in you two's conversations, but now that he’s not here, you’ve settled at twirling your food on your fork.

Suddenly, Mrs. Morales cleared her throat loudly, catching your attention. Your neck snapped up weakly to meet her gaze. She crossed her arms, her posture becoming more assertive. "So, what exactly are your intentions with my son?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow in a challenging manner. Your posture straightened, and you swallowed nervously, your mind going blank. Desperately searching for something to focus on other than Rio's piercing gaze, your eyes landed on Miles' phone case.

That's when you noticed it.

Sat inside Miles clear phone case was a polaroid of your breasts. You gasped seeing the picture, trying to figure out when Miles even did this. It showed them cupped by Miles hand, nipples erect and outward, with bruises left by him all over your skin. You body instantly flushed, how long has Miles phone been sitting on the table? Has Rio seen it?

"Hey, what's that?" Rio asked, her voice pulling you back to the present moment. You realized you had completely forgotten about the current situation, causing you to hastily flip the phone to the other side and let out a nervous "Nothing!" You hoped to divert her attention, but Rio remained unfazed, her gaze fixed on your phone.

"Is that a picture of you on the back of Miles' phone case? That's… cute. Let me see," she said, her curiosity getting the better of her. Your heart skipped a beat, panic setting in.

You knew you couldn't let her see that polaroid. "No! You can't! It's really… embarrassing," you mumbled, your hand instinctively scratching the back of your neck as you tried to sound as convincing as possible.

In response, you could see Rio's eyebrows raise, her interest piqued even more. You knew things were getting out of hand but before you can attempt to change the subject, Rio stops you.

“Wait, is that what I think it is?”

Your heart rate spiked; did she figure it out? You were certain she'd be furious. The mere thought of not being with Miles was unbearable. These rapid thoughts flooded your mind, each one appearing before the last could finish. Before you could answer, you heard Rio burst into laughter.

"Dios mio (Oh my god)…that's hilarious!" The cold demeanor she once had towards you melted away as quickly as it came. You joined in her laughter, relieved that she didn't seem mad about the situation. The bonding moment between the two of you felt genuine and comforting. You had expected her to be more strict, but her laughter was a welcome surprise.

As the tension subsided, Rio looked into your eyes with warmth, a smile lighting up her face. "Jeff used to do that too, take embarrassing pictures of me hang them up in his room. I can see why you're embarrassed. You probably made a really silly face, huh?" You nodded along with her until she reached the last sentence. She thought the picture on the phone case was of you making a silly face?

You laughed awkwardly, shifting in your chair as you tried to play it off. “Yeah! I was making a really foolish face in there, haha.” Your hands waved around dramatically trying the explain the picture to her, anything you made up immediately coming out of your lips. She chuckled at your dramatic performance.

She shook her head taking a sip of the tea she made, “That boy and his tricks, he reminds me more of Jeff everyday…”. Her face slowly turned toward a framed picture of the three of them. Jeff having Miles in a headlock rubbing his head while they’re both laughing, Rio smiling as she took the picture.

The memory depicted a happy and complete family, and you could see the love in Rio's eyes as she looked at the photo. She turned back to you, her tone delicate, filled with the fear of losing her son again. "My son can't lose another person," she whispered.

Rio placed her hand on the table, leaning forward to speak directly to you. "Just promise me you'll always be there for my boy, and I'll accept you," she said, her words sincere and heartfelt. You placed your hand gently on top of hers and replied, "I intend to be there for him until his last day, Ms. Morales." The seriousness in your voice conveyed your commitment.

Rio hummed, processing your response, and then smiled, sitting back into her chair content with your answer. Maybe you were the one who could make this broken family complete again, she thought.

As Miles walked back into the room after using the bathroom, he immediately sensed the warm and playful atmosphere between you and his mother. He sat back in his chair, casually draping his arm around your neck, joining the conversation. "What did I miss out on?" he asked with a playful tone. Both you and Rio exchanged knowing smirks, teasing him with a simple "nothing," which only made Miles grin even wider.

As you answered Rio's questions about you and Miles relationship, Miles let you and her bond and decided to bring his phone out on the table and scroll through social media, accidentally leaving the back in Rio's line of vision. Suddenly, you heard Rio gasp loudly and choke on her tea, causing you to exchange concerned glances with Miles. Worried about what had happened, both of you turned your attention to where she was looking; realizing what had caused her reaction, you both fell silent.

Rio now had a lot of more questions than before.

EXTRA: You screamed at Miles as soon as you left the Morales home, play hitting him as he chuckled at your rage.

You screamed at Miles to keep going as you clenched the sheets as he layed kisses and bites all over your chest. Every bite harder than the last then met with kisses and whispers of sweet nothings that had you on the edge of losing your mind.

“Miles, how could you do that! You made me so scared!”, you complained. Holding his hand as he walked you home. Pouting as he laughed at you not taking you seriously.

“Miles, how are you doing that? You’re making me feel so good!”, you babbled, mumbling little praises to Miles as he marked you, pinching your nipples as you wiggled in his grasp with your wrists held above your head.

You couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore as he tickled you. “C’mon, ma. Don’t make that face at me. I’m sorry, really.” He bent down and kissed your cheek as you crossed your arms at him.

You couldn’t hold in your moans anymore as he made you his. You were almost there but you felt Miles shift and get up and come back with a object in his hands as you continued to squirm.

“You just looked so pretty mami, I had to memorize it.” Miles flashes his signature grin at you. You couldn't stay mad at him, he was too handsome, you'll just have to get back at home some other way.

“You just look so pretty mami, I have to memorize it.” The camera flashes, capturing your beauty perfectly as Miles grins, carefully placing the polaroid on his desk, for safekeeping, at least for now.

ENDING A/N: I DIDNT MEAN TO MAKE RIO THAT MEAN LMAOOO, but I feel like its also a lil cannon yk? After losing the love of her life, Miles is the only one she has left so yeah, she’s gonna be protective as hell over him. 

TAGLIST: @janaeby @bellstwd @nmgstuff @axeoverblade @zaddyskye69 @agstuffsworld @spidrstar @laylasbunbunny @missusmorales @popeheywardssecretgf @lumineliax

TAGS:

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Rimming Freminet

Pairings: Freminet x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom!reader, sub!Freminet, rimming, angst, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers/FWB

Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot

Author's Note: A request from a few months ago that I misinterpreted. Here's the rimming version for you, anon! As usual Freminet is 20+

Check out the trans Freminet version!

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

The words fell from his lips often. “I'm weak...I'm not strong enough...if only I were stronger, then maybe I could protect the ones I love...I need to get stronger!”

You couldn't stop the empathetic ache in your chest whenever your friend uttered those words. After all, you knew all too well what that felt like. That stinging guilt from thinking that you could have done something differently. You could have been faster, stronger, shouldn't have done that, should have done this...you beat yourself down until those thoughts hinder any potential progress

You've been there too, so that's why you wanted to help him. Offering to train him, pass along a few techniques, tricks, and tips from your time out in the field

Freminet was just a tad reluctant but eventually he agreed, promising to work hard during each session. A handshake sealed the deal as you grinned at him, excited to tutor your friend while also spending more time with him!

The first session was a bit clumsy. You said “Don't hold anything back” and Freminet hadn't planned on getting cold feet but... standing before you with his hefty weapon clutched between his hands? And you, his best friend, standing opposite of him with balled fists and your shining vision ready to unleash a skill? A shaky breath slipped between his lips while his arms unconsciously lowered. How could he seriously charge at you? He knows that it's just training, that you'll both come out of this with only minor injuries if anything. He knows that. But some deep recess in his mind won't let him move

From your perspective it really seemed like the beginning of a panic attack. Freminet looked as though he were glued in place, wobbly muscles giving out and releasing his grip on the claymore while his chest heaved. You immediately straightened up, disappearing your weapon before rushing over to the paralyzed boy and cupping his cold cheeks in your hands. The surge of warmth from your touch appeared to melt Freminet right out of the frozen state that he'd been in as his hands lightly covered yours, apologizing for chickening out after you took the time out of your day to meet him like this...

“No, you don't need to apologize, Frem. It's ok. Don't push yourself, alright? Let's just leave it there for the day and relax, we can work through this another time, yeah?”

The sigh of relief was instantaneous as your reassurance calmed the cryo user's nerves. With a huge weight lifted from his chest Freminet breathed a quiet reply, “Yeah...ok. Thank you, y/n.”

-

A few weeks had passed and your training sessions gradually improved to the point where Freminet and yourself could clash weapons with no problems. You spent days helping him overcome his anxiety about sparring with his friend and now you were able to help him work through his problem areas. Speed training, technique tweaking, incorporating his clockwork friends into his attacks. Everything was taken into account with your training. The one thing you didn't account for was the way your body reacted to being pressed up against your friend, or the thoughts that began to run through your mind as you watched Freminet in the heat of battle; Sweaty. Panting. Groaning. On his knees sometimes. That fierce glint in his eye whenever he charged at you...

-

Frigid ice collided with your elemental skill as elemental particles dispersed in the air, reacting with one another while the two of you stood on opposite ends of the training ground. Locked in heated combat for over an hour now, the effects of this rigorous match were starting to show as attack times became a hair slower, muscles ached, breaths became far heavier, and less skills were thrown

Despite all of this, neither of you were willing to give in. Freminet's glare was as sharp as ever; and your playful smirk never left your lips. For the nth time today your friend charged towards you with his claymore held tightly, yelling a battle cry with the intention of finally knocking you down and defeating you. Alas — though you were just as exhausted as he was — you weren't willing to give in just like that

Exhaling a hot puff of air, you prepared to dodge and counter Freminet's terrifying strike. As his heavy sword swung at your head you ducked underneath and to the side, swiftly positioning yourself behind him and using his own momentum to knock him to the ground. You hovered over your friend and pinned one arm behind his back, effectively preventing him from using his weapon or skills easily

“Heh, looks like I win, huh? Unless you think you can break free?” You said triumphantly, daring the boy to turn this around on you somehow

Freminet squirmed under your grasp. He looked like a sea turtle trying to move through sand as his limbs flailed, though it was ultimately no use. You had him pinned enough to keep him down. “N-no... can't...too tired...” He wheezed, slumping onto the ground and giving up all resistance

“I figured... honestly I'm pretty tired too...” You replied. Though that was true, pressed up against Freminet as you were in your current configuration, something sent a surge of energy throughout your aching body. Being in a battle filled with adrenaline and constant quips and teasing on both ends like that got you pretty worked up...there was no hiding nor denying the bulge in your pants anymore. Not while it was poking your friends ass...

Neither one of you dared to say a word right now. Freminet let out one hushed squeak when he realized what was so hard behind him, but the two of you froze in place afterwards. It was blatantly obvious what was happening and you couldn't hide it now. So instead, you just whimpered and shifted your weight so that your hips pressed into him further

“Frem, I...ngh-! Mmm...aaahh~ ” You couldn't stop the moan that slipped out when your friend pushed back against you, gasping as your cock pressed against his hole even through his clothing. “Oh- oooohh ffuuuck~ ” You moaned, humping Freminet right in the middle of the training grounds, panting along with him as lingering adrenaline fueled your hips to rut against each other greedily

“Y-y/n...ah! O-ooohh...” He gasped softly, wishing that you would maybe do something more...hoping that you might give in to whatever feeling caused you to suddenly hump him. Freminet wasn't entirely ready to admit to the feelings that had grown over the years, but right now he didn't really care about the consequences. He wanted you to do more

You felt your cock throb within your pants and you uttered an, “Ah fuck it...” under your breath. Within seconds you had tugged Freminet's pants down and exposed his twitching hole, causing him to shiver as sweaty bare skin was exposed to cold air. Just the sight of his pretty hole — begging to be eaten out by someone's wet tongue and mouth — had drool dripping from your lips. You used your free hand to grope at the soft flesh of Freminet's ass, pulling it a bit to spread his little cheek and expose his hole even more, which earned several whines from your friend

“Shit, Frem...can I?” You asked hesitantly, yet eagerly. Desire building up with every passing second

Freminet didn't know what to think of this... his mind was racing, which in turn caused his heart rate to speed up, pounding in his ears as a long silence fell over the area. He'd never done anything like this before...had no experience in this field yet...but something deep within his gut screamed at him to say yes. He needed it. He didn't even know what he needed. He just needed it. He needed it! Gods yes please– whatever you're asking permission for just do it already! Just–

“Y-yes! Yes...give it to me, y/n~ ” That tone was the sluttiest thing you'd ever heard come out of your friend's mouth...and god did it turn you on...

Immediately, you leaned down and began lapping at Freminet's ass like a thirsty dog. Sucking on his hole as it clenched around nothing, sloppy wet noises filling the air from your mouth the whole time. You finally let go of his arm, confident that he wasn't going to attempt an escape now, and grabbed his tiny hips, pulling his ass further against your face. Suctioned onto his body like the suckers on a tentacle as your tongue licked every bit of his sensitive rim

“Ah-Aaahh—!! Oh my...aaahh~ ” The cryo wielder moaned, rocking his hips back while you continued, neither one of you showed any signs of stopping as your bodies found a rhythm together. You stuck your tongue out and held it in place, moving only your head up and down while Freminet let out another pretty cry. His fingers dug into the ground below him as a new and exciting feeling spread throughout his body

Eventually you pushed your tongue into the wet orifice, breaching Freminet's virgin ass and pulling a shrill scream out of the boy — who made no effort to protest and instead grunted in pleasure before arching his back even more, allowing you to have a better angle for eating him out. Your tongue probed in and out of his little hole while you rubbed his soft cheeks, squeezing the tender flesh and watching it squish in between your fingers

Thank the archons that you picked a day where the training grounds were usually empty, because if anyone walked in on the two of you they would find an embarrassingly obscene picture...

They'd find Freminet's smaller frame arching into every flick and drag of your tongue, torso pressing into the ground while he chased every ounce of pleasure, moaning like a porn star while drool poured from the corner of his mouth–

And they'd find you; pressing your entire face against the smaller man's ass as your wet tongue penetrated his hole. Slurping and kissing the orifice while you also moaned loudly, squeezing Freminet's cheeks and lightly slapping them every so often, eyes rolled back and a huge bulge straining against your pants while you shallowly humped at the air

At this point neither you nor your sparring partner cared about volume control or who might pass by. All your horny brains knew was that they craved the feeling of pleasure. Ushering you to reach around Freminet's tiny waist and take hold of his cock — leaking precum in long, glistening strings that pooled on the floor and clung to his shaking thighs

“Aa-aahh!! Y/n...th-that's my–” Freminet squeaked, unable to prevent himself from thrusting his little hips into your touch. Chasing the sweet relief as your fingers smeared sticky precum all over his cock head and along the shaft. He felt his entire body tremble when you began to stroke it, another source of lewd noises adding to the symphony of sex that your beings performed

Another shaky breath from Freminet told you that he was probably close. So you sped up your ministrations and lapped at his puffy hole faster, moaning against his skin. Sure enough, as your wrist twisted with an upward stroke, Freminet's voice cracked and his dick twitched before shooting a thick load of cum onto the ground. His hips continuing to fuck into your hand sloppily until it hurt–

You eventually unlatched your mouth from his ass, though if you could have you would've eaten him out all night long. For now though, you'd give the boy a rest. Although...

There was one teensy problem.....your dick was painfully hard and you didn't cum, unlike Freminet...

While you don't want to pressure your friend or make things even more awkward between you two, honestly you were about to bust at any moment. If he lets you slip it in just a little bit — just the tip, even — then you'd probably cum right away...it would be over quickly. Just push in a little, cum in your friend's ass, and pull out–

Freminet seemed to notice how you were lost in thought, calling your name quizzically until you blinked back to the present. “Huh? Oh, yeah I'm fine... it's just uh...um, gimme your hand for a second?” At your request, the boy extended a hand out behind him. As it came into contact with something hard, Freminet gasped, the blush on his cheeks returning tenfold. You had placed his little hand on your clothed cock

You pressed his palm down harder, hissing at the spark of pleasure. Beginning to hump his tiny hand as it barely covered your hard member. “Ya feel that? That's all because of you, Frem...I feel like, if I don't cum soon–” A desperate moan spilled from your mouth as Freminet squeezed your dick, now rubbing the outline all by himself

“Pl-please, Frem...can I? ” You whimpered, bucking into his touch as the need to release grew even more

“Y-yes...put it in...give it to me, y/n”

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 6

Summary: Reader goes to a stark party to meet some new people.

TW: Drinking, parties (ew), minor blood

Words: 2k

A/n Sorry for the late update my life is chaos.

Looking around at all the people you felt yourself beginning to feel a little insecure. You could pick out most of the people in the room from the TV alone. These weren’t just your average everyday people, these were superhero’s. And despite having powers yourself you still felt like you didn’t belong among legends.

Without realising it you had popped out your fangs, a small habit that displayed your nerves. You did realise it when it nicked your tongue. The coppery taste of blood in your mouth for a second before it healed.

Starting to feel a little overwhelmed Wanda placed a hand on your arm. Her touch was grounding and you were slowly being pulled back out of your own head and back to the party.

“It’s alright if it’s a bit much. It was for my first time as well. Are you ok?” Wanda said quietly to you.

You swallowed and nodded. “I’m alright. Just gimme a sec.”

Steeling your nerves and swallowing down your anxiety you stood a little taller and nodded to Wanda who was silently observing you.

After giving you a moment to adjust Wanda begun shepherding you over to a small group of people. Seemingly taking it upon herself to introduce you to people knowing if it was up to you, you would stay in the corner all night.

Before you had even realised Natasha had left your side she was handing you a drink with a cute little umbrella.

“I figure you liked it a bit fruity.” She said with a wink and your cheeks heated under the glare you shot her as she sipped her vodka martini.

As you arrived in front of the group Wanda seemed to want to introduce you to first, you took a sip of the drink, finding it to be rather good.

Looking around the group Wanda begun introducing you to it was an odd bunch.

“Y/n,” Wanda begun, gesturing to a tall blonde woman in a leather jacket. “This is Carol, or captain Marvel.” Wanda said with a teasing tone as carol rolled her eyes.

“Hi.” You said and Carol smiled warmly at you.

“Nice to meet you Y/n.” Carol said extending a hand which you took. She had a firm handshake and warm but not sweaty hands. The kind but mischievous twinkle in her eyes promised a fun kind of trouble.

“This old man is Nick Fury.” Natasha said clapping a hand on the back of a dark-skinned man with an eyepatch.

“Watch yourself Romanoff.” He said but Nat just smirked. “Nice to meet you kid.” He said extending a hand. After shaking his hand Natasha introduced you to the last person in the group.

“This is Agent Maria Hill.” Nat said elbowing her in the ribs and receiving a heatless glare in response.

“Nice to meet you.” She said giving a welcoming nod to you which you returned.

“So I hear you’re the newest spider in town?” Carol asks smiling at you as she took a swig of her beer.

“Uhhh … yeah.” You said rubbing the back of your neck.

“No need to be so nervous kid, we don’t bite. Unless you want me to.” Carol winked and you smiled back shyly not realising your fangs were out.

“Wow kid. Nice teeth.” Carol said. “Is that a spider thing?” She said looking curious.

“Yeah.” You said putting them away again.

“That’s pretty cool.” Carol said.

“We’re lucky she doesn’t bite.” Wanda said teasingly.

“I dunno,” Nat said rejoining the group with Maria. “I’d let her bite me.” She said with a wink and you choked on the sip you had just taken of your drink.

Coughing as Nat burst out laughing, Wanda pounded your back while Maria was lecturing Natasha in an amused fashion. Carol simply watched with a grin which matched Nats despite being told off.

Fury simply watched with his upper lip twitching as if it wanted to smile but wasn’t allowed which would probably have some level of accuracy to it.

When you regained your composure and your voice, your cheeks were stained with a dark blush.

“So, are you an avenger now kid?” Carol asked.

“I’m not sure.” You said.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to Stark and Rogers about that one.” Fury said looking at you for a reaction. You simply blinked looking at him and only looking away when you realised, he wasn’t going to elaborate.

“Either way, welcome to our little bunch. If you ever need anything or just to escape the compound of chaos, give me a call.” Carol said and Maria agreed.

“I’ve only ever seen Nat take a liking to something this fast once before and that was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” Maria said receiving a punch from Nat in the arm replying only with a smirk.

“So, how’d the whole spider thing happen?” Carol asked looking curious.

“I should have said this is y/n Parker.” Wanda said emphasising your last name.

“Like Peter Parker?” Carol asked.

“My little brother.” You clarified with a nod.

“So does being part spider run in the family or did you both do a deal with Satan?” Maria asks and you laughed feeling a bit less anxious now the vibe had changed and there was some alcohol in your blood.

“Peter and I both ended up on the field trip where he got his powers. I was chaperoning and he was … being Peter. Anyways Parker luck and we both got bit by the dumb spider.” You said.

“So you’ve just been keeping a low profile since?” Maria asked.

“Yeah. Something like that. I mean I would take Peter’s old suits for a spin when I could but not too often. Our powers differ a little so I had to play the part and not do some things he couldn’t.” You shrugged sipping your drink again.

“Well it sounds like your well adjusted to it all.” Carol complimented.

You snorted in response. “Adjusted, maybe. Cursed, definitely. What can I say Parker luck is real. I almost got it tattooed once.” You said shrugging.

“Well, it’s been great to see you all again, but I need to take y/n to make the rounds. Learn some new names and see some fresh faces.” Wanda said saying goodbye before dragging you away with her hand clasped tightly around your own.

Natasha lingered with her friends for a little longer while wanda and you were swallowed up into another small group as wanda didn’t want to overwhelm you with too many people at once.

When she came to a stop you were stood in front of a few couches with various familiar faces lounging around talking and laughing.

“Hi honey.” A voice said and you looked over to the blue couch to see Aunt May sat next to Pepper, both holding a glass of white wine.

“Hi Aunt May.” You said feeling a little more comfortable with her around. She always made you feel safe.

“You look amazing sweetheart.” May said.

“I love the dress.” Pepper pitched in and you nodded thanking her.

Pepper patted the seat next to her and you slid into the spot beside her as Natasha appeared from nowhere and handed you a new drink, taking the glass you hadn’t realised was empty.

“Fruity.” Natasha whispered in your ear but this time you swatted her as she disappeared laughing to get herself another drink.

“How many of those have you had?” May asked.

“Not nearly enough to be drunk with my metabolism.” You said rolling your eyes.

“You your brother will drink me out of house and home, and I already feed four enhanced people with the metabolism of fifteen people.” Tony said rolling his eyes.

“Be nice Tony. Plus, Peter can’t even drink yet.” Pepper said swatting his arm.

“Oh right. Yeah, that kids never touching alcohol. I watched him trip over his own feet too many times in the past week to count. I can’t imagine he would be able to even stand if he ever got drunk.” Tony said shaking his head at the idea making you and May laugh.

“Im afraid they both are clumsy.” May said and you groaned scrubbing a hand over your face.

“Really?” Wanda asked her curiosity peaked. “Any good stories?” She asked with a mischievous smirk on her lips.

“Oh, too many to count.” May said laughing and waving a hand to indicate how many.

“Please enlighten us.” Clint said seemingly having appeared from nowhere and plopping himself down on the couch opposite pepper and may. He slung an arm around Tony who promptly shoved him off.

“Personal space birdbrain.” Tony grumbled. “But please, do spill.” He said ignoring pepper protective glare he was receiving.

“Oh, I don’t know…” May said glancing at you as you shook your head pleading with her to drop it. “What about just the flip trip one?” She asked and you swallowed pausing for a second before nodding.

“Fine.” You grumbled as Clint and Tony cheered.

“Whats got feathers and grease monkey so happy?” Nat said sitting down next to Clint.

“Story-time about the Parker’s.” Stark said. “More importantly … embarrassing story time.” He clarified and nat looked at you with a raised brow as you just shook your head and slumped over to bury your face in Wanda’s neck. The alcohol making you slightly more confident and comfortable around them.

“Alright. Well as long as I can recall they have both been clumsy. But there was one time after the spider-bite that their spider sense made it even more interesting. Peter was going into their room and Y/n was heading to the living room. They both must have sensed it because peter tripped over his own feet and before he could land flat on his face, he did a front flip and landed in a crouch with one hand on the ground. Y/n would have been in his way, but she had hopped up and stuck to the ceiling. So, she was hanging on by her fingertips and peter was standing back up as she let go of the roof and fell on top of him.” May said with a chuckle.

Tony’s face was lit up like a kid on Christmas. Pepper was stifling a smile and Nat had snorted into her drink. Wanda was trembling slightly under you as her body shook with suppressed giggles as her hand glided softly through your hair as your face was still buried in her neck hiding.

Clint whistled lowly. “Impressive … yet also not.” He said chuckling to himself.

“ok enough of that.” You whined and May smiled at you softly.

“Alright honey. How about pepper tells us some stories about stark.” May said sharing a mischievous smirk with pepper who immediately grinned at stark who grumbled to himself about betrayal.

As pepper launched into a story about the time the great Tony stark had turned up to a meeting sans pants, May pulled you aside.

“You haven’t told them have you?” She said in a low whisper.

“Told them what?” You mumbled looking at your shoes.

“Come on Y/n. I know its different now but he’s not just your brother. I know it hurts but he’s still your-“

“I know.” You said cutting May off before she could finish and say the word that brought pain to your very soul. “But he’s not May. Not anymore … its different. I had to live without him for five years. It changes you. It changed me.“ you mumbled wishing you had grabbed your drink before this impromptu sidebar.

“They’ll see your file eventually, they will connect the dots. It would be better coming from the two of you if you told them yourselves.” May said taking on a sad almost worried voice.

“I’ll talk to Petey about it.” You said and she rubbed a hand up and down your bicep and offered as small smile.

“Good.” May said before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

As the two of you rejoined the group your eyes had a little less of a glint in them. The pain still raw from things you didn’t want to remember.

The battle against Thanos had been somewhat of a sore subject around the tower and you didn’t want to bring up the avengers failure.

The rest of the party was smooth sailing as things began to die down.

@tia-thesimp @lizzielillvr @leenasayeed @justarandomreaderxoxo @sycamorelibrary754 @dorabledewdroop @redwolfqueen19 @sadlesbeansstuff @idkwhatever580

 

[jayden-killer]

FOR US.

(Loki x fem! Reader)

summary: A friend of Loki knocks at your house door, with the intention to tell you Loki's last words to you.

warnings: SPOILERS FROM LOKI SEASON 2 FINALE, very long one shot, other than that, no more warnings, this is so sad lol.

"On the coast, temperatures will drop sharply, dropping from eleven to four degrees, especially after the sunset. Now, let’s move on to the inner side..."

The weatherman’s voice came from the TV in the living room, but to me, it was distant since I was focused on unpacking the shopping bags on my kitchen island. The cold dyed my cheeks a light purple, although I had access to the heating in the house for a few minutes. A few sunbeams were seeping through the curtains, illuminating my face, and I was checking that you hadn’t forgotten anything from my shopping list. And yet, even though I was busy, there was a small part of me that felt like something bad was going to happen. As if my sixth sense was warning me that something inexplicable was coming. Almost as if it were fate to give me the answer rang the bell at my front door. I picked up the remote next to me of the TV, turned it off, and gently left it on the couch, then went to open it to whoever was behind my door. The moment you opened it, a gentleman appeared to me to be middle-aged, with grizzled hair and a short moustache. Despite his rather well-groomed appearance, the lines on his face were noticeable, showing his age. And he definitely had tired eyes. I looked at him reluctantly, waiting for him to talk; actually, I did it first. "Hi? Can I... do something for you?"

He breathed in air and glanced at me, not with disgust but rather with curiosity. He asked if my name was what he actually knew, which was later confirmed by me. Then he answered with a half-forced smile and a subtle voice: "I’m sorry if I show up here, out of nowhere, without even introducing myself. Call me Mobius," he clarified, giving me a handshake."I am here for a specific reason. It's forLoki".

My heart sank when I heard Loki’s name spoken. It couldn’t be good. Loki would have come in person if it was important.

Why wasn’t he there?

Why was there this Mobius instead?

Did Loki pull one of his tricks again and caused more chaos than he did in the past?

Once again, my sixth sense did not betray me.

~

"Tea?"

"Oh, no, thank you".

"Not even a piece of cake? It’s fresh, I bought it just this morning".

"I can not say no to such a good piece of cake. I gladly accept." Mobius' laugh was short, but it was effective in bringing back a smile on that concerned face that I had shown since he told me he was here with precise intentions. Now, he was sitting in my living room, on the leather sofa that Loki himself adored, since his butt never wanted to leave it. "So..." I began the conversation, handing the strawberry cake plate to Mobius, who thanked me with a silent thank you. He took a bite of it and showed with pleasure that the dessert was good. I sat in front of him, rubbing the sweaty palms of my hands on my jeans. One of my legs bounced back and forth, clearly anxious. "You said it was about Loki. What’s going on?"

Mobius cleared his voice, placing next to him the dish of cake now devoured, and assumed a different expression; he seemed tense, as if finding the words for what he was going to tell me was the most complicated thing in the world. I bit my lip. The wait was slowly killing me inside.

"Loki... well, he..." He breathed, looking down. "You know what he was doing at TVA?"

"Yes" My answer was hasty. I needed to know what had happened to my partner.

"What about his past?"

"I know everything. What happened? Why isn’t he here, Mobius?"

He took a very deep breath, and closed his eyes slightly, looking away. He placed a hand on the inside of his jacket, pulling a paper bag from an inner pocket. He handed it to me, and I immediately noticed the details: the recipient and the sender were written with, surely, an handwriting well taken care of; of course the ink was a fountain pen, because no one else would recognize that writing so elegant. It was Loki’s. A letter from Loki. And judging by the content, there was also an object inside it.

"What does that mean?" I didn’t want Loki to leave me. Not again. My voice cracked in pain, and I felt a tingle in my eyes. Mobius took my hand, holding it tightly. As if to say that he was there to console me, but that the worst was yet to come.

"Loki is...he is now 'He who remains'. The one who watches over time. On all the timelines of all time. He is...like a new time keeper".

The pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming together and everything seemed clearer when he confessed to me. My gaze wavered from the envelope to Mobius' broken face. He sympathized me, it was clear, but how could you not pity a lover who had definitely lost, this time, his other half.

"He holds all the time lines together. His role is extremely important, because if it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t...you wouldn’t be here." I looked at him with tears in my eyes. His breathing was accelerating. He hadn’t finished. There was something else he had to reveal to me.

"Before he sacrificed himself for the sake of time, for his friends, for you... he told me to give you this." His gaze fell on the letter. "Then he closed the underground doors leading to the tunnel, and looked at me and Sylvie."

"Sylvie..." The name reminded me of someone he previously told me about. "Her other variant, right?"

He nodded. "He told us that now he knew who he would become. What God would he be. And he thanked you for taking care of him when he was still a dangerous man, a threat to others." He paused briefly. Even his voice seemed to waver for a second. " That’s it. And he disappeared in the next few minutes."

How much information in one speech.

How many things I would have to process in my mind before I accepted the harsh and harsh truth.

How many thoughts buzzed in my head as a result of that shocking revelation.

It was like a truck hitting you in the chest, throwing your powerless body into the road.

"He won't come back anymore, will he?"

Mobius never stopped holding my hand for a moment, holding it even tighter in his rough palm. He understood that he too had a strong hope of Loki’s return. Surely he had been a close friend of his, one who had been close to him all along. So why didn’t he tell me about it before?

However, his silence mk was from confirmation: he wanted, as much as me, his return, but how many were high hopes?

Would it have happened that, one day, a morning like this, he would have appeared at the door of my house, he would have knelt down and embraced me grieving?

How many years from now?

"We don’t know for sure." That sentence brought me up. I dried with my fist closed the tears that threatened to flow from my eyes, as a child does when she feels that maybe her mother would never return to her. I couldn’t stand the idea that I wouldn’t have Loki around me anymore.

Without adding any more, Mobius let go of my hand, standing up and glancing at the letter I held in my other palm. It was a silent way of saying he would give me some privacy to read the letter. So, he walked to the kitchen, bringing with him the plate with the leftover cake.

My hands were shaking. I didn’t have the courage to see what was inside. I was hoping it was another one of his planned pranks. Maybe confetti and a snake would come out, and he would hiss and say, "I fooled you again!"

I tore the opening of the envelope very gently and put a flickering hand inside. I had a cold feeling. Something hard and small was inside. It was..

"A ring.."

A beautiful silver ring.

Tears immediately came back to me. The small object landed in the palm of my hand, the hiccups made its way into my throat, and I squeezed it tightly against my chest. I couldn’t do it.

This was too much for my weak heart.

Was that the real pain?

Was that how you felt?

I still had to read his letter. I didn’t mentally have the strength to do it. It required a huge effort. Only some time later I had the courage to open that letter that was delivered to me by Mobius.

☆

A/N: NOW, my fellow readers, would you like to know what Loki has written in that letter ✉️? Because I've assured you, it's gonna be much sad than this one short.👀

[sugarushwriting]

lucky charm

reader x lee minho x mma fighter lee minho

happy (belated) birthday to my man, lee minho (lee know) from skz. wrote this on his birthday 💙

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

master list found here

watching him was an adrenaline boost you didn’t know you needed. one you couldn’t give yourself. the way he ducked hits easily. the way he threw a punch so quick the opponent couldn’t block it in time. the way he was so light on his feet as if he was a professional dancer in his past life.

his opponents covered in their own blood, sometimes a broken nose, or black eye. barely a scratch on himself though.

his opponents opting to go shirtless as he chose to wear tight fitting shirts with shorts or sweats.

you never knew why, always wondered what he has to hide underneath.

ding ding the bell ring ending the fight. the referee held lee minho’s hand in the air, declaring him the winner against the opponent.

“leebit is our winner!” the referee used minho’s underground name, which also never made sense to you.

no one here ever used their government names to protect themselves against cops and their opponents.

you only found out minho’s name by a bit a snooping. and finding his name was total accident.

the crowd began chanting ‘leebit’ in celebration, noting all the fan-girls here for him. with the amount of gorgeous women that had their eye on him, why would he notice you?

you were as innocent as they came (on the surface at least), 97% introverted, 3% extroverted around the right people. you preferred to be by yourself, but that didn’t mean you didn’t get lonely at times.

you had a good amount of close friends, however you really craved companionship. your last relationship didn’t end well, mainly due to your ex keeping things vanilla in the bedroom and cheating on you.

as people around you began to exit, you decided to leave within the crowd. however, the universe had other plans, as you didn’t notice the small bag you had brought with you was open.

as you stood, a few things fell out. looking up at the ceiling in defeat with a sigh, you crouched down to start picking up the things: lipgloss, tampon, compact mirror, and—

“i think you dropped this.” a deep chuckle came out from the man now standing in front of you.

he held out the few condoms you had that began to collect dust. “oh, um, thanks.” you replied shyly, your face feeling hot from embarrassment.

you quickly grabbed the condoms, stuffing them back in your bag. looking back up at the guy who helped you out, you realized he was someone always with minho.

“you hang around leebit a lot, don’t you?” you asked. you had to remember to use his fighters name, not his actual name.

the guy laughed. “maybe. you a fangirl of his?”

you shrugged. “maybe.” you answered with crossed arms.

“sorry if that came off rude,” the boy quickly apologized, “it’s just,” he began to explain with a tilted head, “you don’t look like you’d be a fangirl of a mma fighter.” he raised his eyebrow.

“and you don’t look like someone who would befriend a mma fighter.” you said back.

“well we were just roommates first then became good friends. but, touché—,” he trailed off not knowing your name.

you introduced yourself with handing your hand out for a handshake like some lame person. you internally cursed at yourself.

“nice to meet you, i’m han jisung.”

“nice to meet you, jisung.” you took your hand away, suddenly feeling shy.

it was probably because more than half of the audience have left. looking around the small room, you soon noticed minho coming out from the door across the room, him still dressed in his earlier clothing and hair sweaty.

“i should get going.” you said and pointed towards the exit, but jisung stopped you.

“but i thought you were a fangirl? i could help you get an autograph.” he smiled teasingly.

“another fangirl, jisung?” minho said as he came up behind you. you didn’t realize he was a fast and quiet walker as he startled you.

you quickly turned around, moving to stand next to jisung so you could look into minho’s eyes.

jisung introduced you to minho. “minho, she’s a fan!”

minho looked you up and down. “you sure she’s a fan? she doesn’t look like someone who’d be interested in mma fighting.” minho observed. “where’s your boyfriend? i bet he brought you here.”

“no boyfriend.” you stated. “and i am a fan.”

technically you weren’t a fan of mma, just a fan of minho.

but since you were a fan of minho that did mma, that made you a fan of the activity, right?

or did that make you a creepy, crazy, stalker?

shit.

“i should go, it’s getting late.” you looked at your phone seeing it was past midnight.

“it’s already late, let us take you home.” minho offered, jisung agreed.

“he’s right, it’s a saturday night, no telling what creepy perverts are out there.” jisung said.

“you both could be creepy perverts.”

minho and jisung laughed. “this fella,” minho began saying while tapping his friend’s chest, “couldn’t hurt a fly. me on the other hand, well, you’ve seen the damage i can do.”

that should’ve scared you but it only excited you.

the 2 boys got you to your small apartment building safely not too long later. they insisted on walking you up to your door, so for an odd reason you allowed it.

they didn’t ask to come in, but instead, bid their goodbyes and walked away.

you were left alone feeling hot and bothered by the proximity of minho. and his sweat only seemed to make him sexier.

“goodness, maybe im the nasty pervert.” you shook your not so innocent thoughts.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the next week, your job had you overworking to meet an important deadline. you’ve had to miss 2 of minho’s matches.

you were more than excited to be home after a long day. for the past 9 work days, you’ve been needing to be at work by 9 am, not leaving until close to 8 or 9 in the evening.

you trudge back home, your muscles feeling sore from the long hours. you were too focused on taking a nice hot shower, you didn’t notice the figure standing next to your door.

“it’s dangerous not to pay attention to your surroundings, kitten.”

“goddamnit!” you screeched, startled. you nearly dropped your things, but ended up placing a hand over your heart, it racing from the surprise visitor.

the deep chuckle caused you to gain goosebumps on your arms, his smile showing his front teeth.

“minho?” you asked confused, you scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. “what are you doing here? at my apartment? at my door!” you whispered—shouted.

minho looked around. “waiting for you?”

you were taken back. more so, why was he here? “i can see that, but why?”

“are you going to invite me in? kind of rude to have your guest waiting outside.”

you sighed, but opened your front door to your small studio apartment. it wasn’t big, but it was cozy and what you needed. and it came with a laundry area so that was a big win.

you shut the door softly behind minho, taking off your shoes, leaving them by the door. minho followed suit.

“you can sit on the couch, uh, i just need to put my things away.”

“go ahead. i heard you talking to yourself, wanting to take a shower. we can talk after that.”

“i—huh?” you were more than confused now.

lee minho wanted you, to take a shower, while he waited in your living area?

“damn kitten, you must be extremely tired to the point where i have to repeat myself.” minho smirked.

your mouth fished open, but then closed. “tell me why you’re here then i will shower.”

“you’re my lucky charm, that’s why i am here.”

“huh?”

“shower. now. i will order food.” minho reached for his phone in his pocket. when he noticed you weren’t moving, he laughed with a sigh, and stood up, walking towards you.

looking into your eyes, his cologne met your nose, and you’d wish you could just burry yourself in his smell.

“get in the shower.” minho said softly. it was basically can order.

“okay.” you sighed. “just order something good please.”

you walked to your bathroom, head down. you couldn’t think about taking a shower while minho was in your apartment. nope. because if you did, your shower would last longer than it needed to be.

stripping from your clothes, you made sure to lock your bathroom door. minho heard the click from the living room, snickered at the thought of you thinking he was a pervert wanting to catch a look on you.

good thing you did lock it.

he tapped away on his phone, ordering some food you both would like. he looked around your small apartment, observing your living habits. while your living area was tidy, your bedroom behind the small partition wall had a few clothes laying around, your bed made, but not to precision.

in the shower, the hot water helped your tense muscles, and when you stepped out grabbing your towel, you finally realized you didn’t grab pajamas.

“fuck!” you groaned loudly.

“you okay in there?” you heard minho call out.

you gasped, your hand slapping over your mouth. “yeah, i’m fine!” you squeaked.

minho probably thought you had some dirty business going on behind that door. his ears turned red at the thought.

“minho, um, i forgot to grab pajamas!”

“i’ll close my eyes, you can come out!”

“can you just grab me some?” you asked. “middle drawer on the right! there should be a set easy to grab.”

minho followed your directions, grabbing a silk pajama set—next to the oversized shirt and shorts you were probably wanting.

well if you were going to have him pick, he might as well pick the one he wants to see you in, right?

“do you need undies!” minho yelled.

you slapped your face in embarrassment. “yes!” your voice cracked.

minho grabbed you a pair that was on the top. knocking softly on the bathroom door, you unlocked the door, snatched the clothes from minho’s hands, and quickly slammed and locked the bathroom door back.

you hurried and got ready, opening the door, noticing minho comfortable sitting on your couch, setting out the food.

“that was a quick delivery.”

“there’s a good place just a block away. i noticed it the last time jisung and i had walked you home.”

you nodded with a smile. awkwardly, you walked closer to him, to sit next to him on the couch.

minho noticed your stiff posture. “no need to be nervous or awkward around me.” he stated in a comforting tone. “i don’t bite.” he looked at you, then winked. “much.”

you cleared your throat, “uh, right.” you grabbed chopsticks, ready to grab a piece of chicken. “can you elaborate on what you said earlier? about me being your lucky charm?”

minho looked at you quietly and intensely as he chewed. his gaze made you squirm in your seat.

“i almost lost my past matches because you weren’t there in the audience.”

he noticed you gone? you nearly choked on your chicken. “almost?”

“oh kitten, you know i never lose my fights.” he stated with a smirk.

“so how am i your lucky charm if you didn’t lose, if i wasn’t there?” you questioned.

minho took a big bite of his rice. “because my opponents got more punches in than they should’ve.”

“did you get hurt at all?” your eyes quickly glanced over, barely seeing a scratch on his pretty face.

“not really. just a bruised stomach and ego.”

“stomach?” you gasped, looking down to his covered abdomen.

“it’s fine, no longer tender.” he patted where he had gotten hit. “the opponent got it worse, kitten.”

you took in his words, still in shock the fact he noticed you gone. noticed your presence wasn’t there. but you also tried to not read too much into it.

“not surprised, you’re pretty quick on your feet.” you complimented, taking another bite of your food.

minho stared at you as he ate. you continued to eat as well in silence until minho broke it. “don’t miss another match of mine.”

“is that a request?”

“it’s an order.”

“and what if i don’t come?” you teased.

“i’ll find you, and you’ll face the consequences.” he answered, no hint of teasing in his tone.

your body tensed—in a good way, you immediately clenching your lower half. “i can’t be that much good luck, minho. you’ve only now noticed my absence since jisung introduced me to you.”

minho stared at you once again. he wanted so badly to tell you he knew you, or knew of you before jisung introduced you. minho knew some small things about you. things he’s done without you even noticing yourself.

he’s noticed you at his matches before. he remembers the look of awe on your face when he knocked out someone. that was your first visit and impression.

the second time he noticed you because you weren’t yelling within the crowd.

the third time he remembers you giving a look of disgust to some man in the crowd who tried and failed to flirt with you.

and each time since, he’s noticed you. you just didn’t notice him noticing you.

each time since, even the first day, he’s walked behind you while you walked home after the fights. he noticed you always came alone.

he couldn’t let a pretty girl like you walk home by yourself. and he was too shy to offer himself as an escort to avoid seeming like a creepy stalker pervert.

he’s seen you on a date at a local coffee shop when he visited there with jisung. you hadn’t noticed him.

minho nearly flipped the table in anger when the guy tried to hold your hand. but he smiled when you pulled away.

he found out later that day it was your ex. because your ex talked crapped about you to one of his buddies, once you left.

minho followed him to an alley way. that’s how your ex ended up in the hospital.

you were confused that day when you received a call from the hospital.

“why are you calling me?”

“you’re still his emergency contact.”

“well i don’t want to be.”

“he’s in the hospital, you could have a little—,”

you hung up on the nurse. you were intrigued though to know why he ended up in the hospital. how he ended up there.

“i should make you beg to ask me to miss no more.”

minho looked at you like you’ve lost your damn mind. or like you forgot how many cats he had.

you chuckled at his shocked out face. “just kidding min.”

the rest of the evening you both ate, alternating between silence and small talk.

it was nearly 11 at night when you finished. “thanks for the meal, min.” you smiled warmly.

minho smiled, the tips of his ears becoming red at the nickname. “of course. can i use your bathroom before i leave?”

you nodded and he went to the bathroom. as soon as he locked the door, his phone buzzed with an incoming text.

you know it was so wrong, but you couldn’t help but snoop. you had to make sure he wasn’t playing you, right? make sure he hadn’t told more girls they were his good luck charms too. without picking up his phone, you read the text:

annoying roomie: did u tell her u like her? sick and tired of you moping around 🙄

your heart dropped. minho had a crush on someone? you sighed, this night too good to be true. you quickly decided to start cleaning up, ready for bed when out of nowhere, a big boom sounded from outside.

“what the!” you ran to your window seeing it pouring rain out of nowhere. “the forecast said nothing about rain!” you groaned.

you turned on your television to the news station, seeing it was going to storm all night and it was only going to get worse.

“bad storms?” minho asked from behind you.

you sighed and nodded. “looks like it.”

“they can never get the weather right.” minho tsked. “i didn’t bring an umbrella or anything with me.” he scratched the back of his head.

you turned to look at him behind you. if he didn’t have any type of protection from the rain, that means he could get soaked and possibly sick.

you couldn’t do that to him. could you? “um, do you wanna crash on my couch until it dies down?”

“only if you don’t mind.” he asked.

you definitely did not mind.

“it’s fine. i wouldn’t want you to get sick.” you said and walked to your extra closet to grab a blanket. “as long as you don’t do anything creepy and don’t mind my occasional snoring, we should be good.”

minho laughed. “what, expect me to do something dirty to you while you sleep?”

your thighs clenched again, and it didn’t go unnoticed by minho, but he didn’t say anything about it.

so maybe you were into that sort of thing.

“relax kitten, i will just sleep.” he said, and you visibly relaxed, but also felt some kind of disappointment?

minho got comfortable on the couch, and you turned off the light, to get into your bed. minho took a while to get comfortable though.

you laid in bed in thought. maybe you should be the one to sleep on the couch? the couch was pretty small compared to your bed. minho couldn’t sleep comfortably if he had to scrunch his body.

you sat up in bed. “minho.” you called from your room. “do you wanna sleep in my bed? i can sleep—,”

before you could even finish the sentence, minho made his short way to your bed and got in next to you. just as you were going to get up to sleep on the couch, he grabbed your wrist.

“where are you going?” he whispered.

“the couch?”

“your bed has enough room. lay down and sleep.”

another demand from minho had you following his directions.

“what would your crush think about this?” you said quietly.

minho sat up on his elbow. “what crush?”

you swallowed. “a guy like you has to have a crush on someone if you don’t have a girlfriend.” you covered up. you almost gave yourself away.

minho had a feeling you saw the text from jisung, and very much wanted to scream that you were his crush! but although minho was beyond comfortable and confident in the ring, he was a total nerd and lack confidence when it came to flirting and girls.

you were the first girl he became intrigued by since 2 years ago. he’s had his fair share of girls here and there, but it was hard for a girl to actually capture his interest.

“you’re right, i do have a crush.” he whispered. your back was facing his front. “too bad i don’t know how she feels about me.”

“min, i’m sure she has a crush back. who wouldn’t like you?” you whispered back.

“how could i get her attention?” minho asked huskily.

you smiled. “a surprise kiss may do it. just hope she doesn’t slap you.”

“is that something my crush would like or you?”

“mhm, something i would like. some girls like it, so your crush might.”

you felt a tap on your shoulder, so you rolled over to your back, obviously being surprised when you felt soft lips meet yours for a quick peck.

“please don’t slap me.” minho sighed against your lips.

“minho—,”

“if you can’t tell, you’re my crush kitten.” minho said and brought his lips to yours once more for more than a peck.

hovering over you, your back laid flat against the bed, minho using his right hand to prop himself up, and his left to cradle your cheek. minho’s lips were soft against yours, slow as he enjoyed your taste.

his left hand ghosted against your cheek, down your neck, to your shoulder, then your side, grabbing your hip. his lips left yours to trail down your neck, meeting your shoulder blade with a quick nibble before leaving a quick peck and looking into your eyes.

minho for once was so happy it was storming.

“tell me when you want me to stop.”

“what if i don’t want you to stop, min?”

minho smiled, bringing his lips back to yours, his left hand moving along to your backside, and to grip your ass, a moan coming out muffled against his lips.

both your tongues found one another, your faces smushing a bit closer at how rushed and sloppy the kiss became. you both couldn’t get enough of one another.

you wrapped your arms around minho’s neck, pulling him as close as possible, your right leg lifting up to rest against his hip and around his waist.

minho grinded his lower half against yours, your hips lifting up to meet his.

minho pulled his lips away reluctantly, but soon attached them to your neck, leaving wet, sloppy kisses.

“before we get too far kitten, i don’t have any condoms.”

“i do, but they’ve probably expired.” you bit your lip, as minho stared at you.

“are you okay with—,”

you nodded. “yes. i’m clean, i’m on birth control.”

minho nodded. “i’m clean too. and lucky for me, i have a breeding kink i’ve been waiting to try out.”

wetness pooled between your legs just like that. who knew men who had a breeding kink turned you on just as much.

minho kissed you again, wasting no time to pull down your shorts past your thighs and knees, and getting them off your legs.

he bent down on the bed, his face in front of your cunt.

“so wet for me.” he whispered and blew air against your aching lower half.

minho let his tongue lick you up, your head rolling back on the bed, your hips lifting slightly. immediately your hand went to his hair.

minho used his tongue for a few more small licks, using his fingers to open you up nice so his tongue could get every angle possible, licking you clean.

he then attached his mouth to your clit, using two of his fingers to poke at your cunt.

it’s been too long, so the sensation felt foreign, but it felt good. minho slowly entered his fingers into your hole, slowly inching them in and out, as you rode his fingers.

his lips went to your lower belly to leave kisses, as he added a third finger and used his thumb of the same hand to rub your clit in circles. his free arm lifted your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access.

soon, you felt your lower stomach beginning to feel tight. “minho, i—i think i’m gonna come soon.” you sighed out quietly.

minho noticed how quiet you were in bed. and he honestly loved that. but he also couldn’t wait to corrupt you to the point you were screaming and begging him for more (or to slow down) at the top of your lungs.

minho kept his pace of his fingers, adding his tongue with his thumb. he spat once, mixing his spit with your wetness with his three fingers and entered once again at a different angle.

“oh fuck, right there min.” you lifted your hips, your legs threatening to close. minho’s tongue and fingers soon felt so overwhelming and overstimulating to you.

you tried to push his head away, but minho instead removed his fingers, propping both of your legs over each of his shoulders as his tongue flicked ferociously against your folds.

you could help but try and squirm away from him. “minho, too much!”

with one more fast lick, minho removed his lips, kissing your lower stomach, up your clothed chest, to your neck, and eventually meeting your lips so you could taste yourself.

breaking the kiss just to take off your pajama top, you were now bare as he was still clothed in the comfortable outfit he came in.

you pouted. “this isn’t fair.”

minho chuckled. “you’ll get to ogle me kitten. patience.”

minho brought his lips back to yours for a sweet, longer kiss, his fingers tracing over your naked body leaving goosebumps in their trail.

minho lifted up, taking his shirt off, leaving his toned chest and abs to have you literally salivating at the sight.

“why do you hide this under your clothes?” you asked, using your hands to trace over his body.

“because i’m not some piece of meat for girls to stare at.” there was a hint of teasing and joking behind it, and you laughed.

“is it bad or weird i want to make out with your chest and abs?”

“not weird at all kitten. but not tonight.” minho finished undressing himself quickly, his dick already standing hard and red, leaking precome.

you licked your lips unconsciously at the sight. minho had done the same when he took in your body. you were a dream to him. a dream come true.

minho crawled back over you, kissing you once, his tip tracing your folds, teasing you. you groaned impatiently.

“you just don’t know how long i’ve waited for this kitten. tonight you get my loving, slow side. after this, you’ll only be fucked by me. understand?”

you nodded—sort of understanding what he was saying. basically, tonight he would be gentle with you. after that, you’ll be lucky to have feeling in your legs.

no prep needed, minho eased his dick into you, your back arching off the bed, your hands gripping his upper arms.

your body adjusted well to his length and girth, as he bottomed out, staying still.

you both let out a low groan and moan, whispered into each others lips.

minho had to hold himself back, all he wanted was to snap his hips back and push forward with all his might.

minho slowly pulled back, to slowly push in, setting a slow and soft rhythm, lightly having your bed rock alongside your bodies.

your legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, as minho leaned down, nose buried in your neck.

as you softly moaned out, minho softly grunted, talking lowly to himself and you.

“i can’t wait until i ruin you.”

“you’ll never want to leave my side.”

“gonna ruin you for my opponents. i see the way they look at you.”

“i’ll have you begging on your knees for me to fuck that sweet face of yours.”

each sentence and statement just brought you closer to your orgasm. “yes min. all yours. you’ve already ruined me.” you moaned, kissing his lips one, your hand threading its way through the back of his head. “use me how you want.”

minho’s thrust became sloppier as he came close to his own orgasm. he sat up, still wrapping your legs around his waist, but the angle caused for deeper penetration. “fuck kitten, keep talking like that to me.”

“gonna ruin me in different positions min. doggy, on the floor, against the wall—fuck—on the kitchen counter,”

“i’ll fuck you anywhere and everywhere, kitten.” minho moaned, his thrust picking up, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

“fuck me to sleep and fuck me awake, min.” you sighed out in pleasure.

“fuck yes.” minho thrusted twice more before you came and he followed right after, filling you up.

you wrapped your legs around his waist with a smile. “can’t waste a drop, min.” you playfully bit your index finger.

minho laughed tiredly, his dick slowly softening inside. he tried his best not collapse on top of you, so half his body was on you the other on the bed. that was until he rolled over to his back, not removing his dick from you.

you laid halfway on him, your leg draped over his lower half as his dick rested nicely in you. “mhm, i like this.”

minho thrusted once, and you both moaned. “give me a little for round two, kitten.”

you laughed and looked up at him. “and what if i’m too tired for round two?”

minho looked at you menacingly with a big smile, “well, did you or did you not tell me to fuck you to sleep and fuck you awake?”

you giggled. “you got a point.”

“exactly. now, you will be regretting those words.”

in a flash, minho had you on top in cowgirl. “now ride til you can’t ride anymore kitten.”

[penvisions]

one fish, two fish {chapter one}

Pairing: Local! Frankie Morales x Transplant! Reader

Summary: Setting up a new chapter of your life should be easy, but there's someone that keeps popping up and making it much harder than it needs to be...

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: mentions of past recovery, narcotics anonymous, mentions of past drug use, recreational drug use, consumption of alcohol, miscommunication up the wazoo, i think that's it for this one!

A/N: this is for the lovely @janaispunk and her 1500 kisses challenge / celebration! the kiss assigned to me was: goodnight kiss! wanted to write something a bit different and this helped to get some stuff tinkering again

ao3 link || series masterlist || frankie masterlist || ko-fi

You were new to the area, the city and the meeting. The mediocre coffee and the drab, stagnant air of the rented out room the only thing linking this new chapter of your life to the old one. Anonymous meetings always seemed to be held in the same types of places, outside in large parks too crowded and loud with other people or playgrounds off in the distance or errant rooms of old church buildings where they typically held their holiday social gatherings. The faces were always the same with washed out expressions, dull eyes, shaking hands all clamoring for the too bright amber liquid that barely passes for coffee and too sugary sweets for the snacks alongside it.

But there was something new about this scene you were all to familiar with, no matter the city you were in or the state of your recovery. A man was walking in through the doors, dressed in a simple pair of dark wash jeans and a heathered grey t-shirt. Atop his head was a worn and well loved hat, a patch over the front of it depicting some foreign to you oil company. But it wasn’t the nondescript clothes or hat that caught your attention, lord knows it wasn’t, it was the man who adorned them. He looked so different from the others in the room even as he shared greeting handshakes and close-lipped smiles with everyone milling about before he was standing in front of you.

He tilts his head to the side as confusion swirls in the brown depths of his wide eyes, so much more the embodiment of coffee more that the liquid in your little styrofoam cup. His full lips are pursing slightly as he begins to speak and there’s a large hand held out in front of him. Sound and awareness slam back into you and you realize he was repeating a greeting to you. His hand is lowering, going to mirror his other on his hip and you feel like you’re getting scolded as he stands tall over you.

“Oh, oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Yes, hi, I’m-“

“New, haven’t seen you before. Most of the people here have been comin’ to this meeting for a long while. Sure you’re in the right place?” His eyes are tracing over the features of your face, heat pooling underneath the scrutiny as you realize the words he’s speaking to you. And it sounds a lot like you aren’t welcome. You swallow the lump quickly forming in your throat and try to tamp down the fluster of embarrassment at having chosen the one meeting that worked out for your schedule only for it to be wrong for everyone else.

“I-I can- go? If it’s not…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to impose, there’s just…this was the only one in the area and I don’t have a sponsor helping me figure out the lay of the land.” You’re turning from him, placing the little cup beside the coffee maker and wiping your hands on the sides of your jeans, palms sweaty and nerves alight. You feel foolish, for thinking that you could just pick a meeting even if the list had been published on an online forum. Your legs are twitching as you quickly stride across the room and out into the tepid evening air.

You barely muster up the courage to look over your shoulder as you cross the small path set into lush grass, the propped open doors to the room are blocked by the form of the man that had caught your attention. His figure is backlit by the fluorescents on inside, the evening dark as the sun had set over an hour ago. You can’t see his face for the silhouette his broad body is creating, though you don’t imagine it’s anything kind as he seems to be ensuring your departure with a survey of area. Your heart hammers in your chest at the sickening feeling of being unwelcome, of having been approached and explicitly asked if you were in the right place. And fuck if you weren’t sure.

The asphalt is still hot from the day as you cross over it to your car, the happy beeps of it unlocking doing nothing to improve the mood. The feeling of being completely out of your element consume you as you pilot your car through the half-full lot and onto one of the only roads you were familiar with in the city that is now your home.

A few days later and an hours long phone call with your old sponsor, you’re feeling a little better about the whole thing. An invitation to join your coworkers out for a drink helping to ease the transition of a new work place, one of paperwork to use the degree you had devoted yourself to finished through your recovery. Pieces of an easy life fell into place, new car, a new apartment, a trip to the shelter to look for a furry friend to keep you company. It was all so precious and new, equal parts exciting and daunting as you tried to create something for yourself that you never had before.

The chase of addiction long past, nothing more than an errant nightmare every so often or the twitch of a muscle as you recalled the feeling of endorphins and chemicals, now only a lingering phantom.

You decided to try and dress up a little, your favorite pair of jeans that fit just like a warm hug, a nice tank top lined with lace at the collar and hem, a pair of chunky heeled boots to make you appear a little taller. All of it paired with the scent of your summer perfume and gold jewelry to bring the whole look together and make you feel more like yourself than you had in years.

All of it came undone the second you settled your elbows on the bar top to wave down a worker for a beer when he sidled up beside you. Crackling tension douses the jovial, upbeat scene and you feel your entire body tense up and your thoughts scramble at the scent that seems to cling to his skin. It’s a combination of faint motor oil and something woodsy. It’s not a bad one, and the errant thought of catching it lingering on your sheets pulls your mouth down into an unfriendly frown as you turn to look at him as he clears his throat to speak in that deep, full voice.

“I wasn’t sure if it was really you, but-“

“You can’t kick me out of here too, this is a public space.” You find yourself saying roughly, annoyance and a little more boldness behind the words than you would normally display so plainly. Born of embarrassment and the feeling of shame, for having accidently stumbled into a space that was meant to be inviting and accepting only to be turned away by the handsome man who had quite literally materialized beside you now like he had done so many nights ago. You look straight ahead, eyes focused on the backlit bottles on the shelves of the bar back.

“Hey, no, that’s not-“

“I won’t bother you, just…please leave me alone.”

“I wanted to apologize for the other night.” His apology steeped in genuine condolence catches you off guard and you miss the spare second to get the bartenders attention as you turn to look at him again. There’s a nervous air about him now, nothing like the way he had approached you during that first meeting. “I didn’t mean- I wasn’t trying to run you off.”

“Sure seemed like it, ‘sure you’re in the right place’?” You repeat his words back to him, an imitation of his deep voice so spot on it catches him off guard and pulls a barking laugh from someone on the other side of him. The man’s brows fly up underneath the curls that peek out from underneath his cap, his plush lips parted slightly at the hint of something that would normally be playful but is now being weaponized and turned on him with intent.

“Oy, Fish, she’s got that down perfect! Fuck, that’s hilarious.” Your eyes look over his shoulder to the person, he’s just as handsome but in a way that makes you wary of his intentions and the truth of his words should he have been the one to sidle up to you. Memories of being teasingly asked out by your old coworkers ring in your ears. “What’s your name, hermosa?”

“You brought a friend with you to- what exactly? Ask if I’m in the right place again? Well, I am. Apology acknowledged but not accepted, please leave me alone.” You lean forward a bit more, putting weight on one of your hands to wave the other for the attention of a much needed drink, even more so now. You’re very aware of both men’s attention on you as you manage to get something on draft, ordering whatever local amber they offered and turn away from the crowded bar to go back to your table.

Only, it’s empty when your eyes zone in on it. The vinyl seats of the booth are unoccupied for only a moment until another group of people swoop in and claim it for themselves. Sighing, you down the beer with quick gulps as you make your way to the door, the crisp liquid soothes the nerves of confrontation and being ditched only minutely. The condensation beaded up on the glass making your hands damp as you pop it atop a high top table with a couple obviously on their first date before you’re pushing through the door into the humid night.

You’re barely a few paces down the street when the door opens again and he’s walking through it. A frazzled look about him as he turns his head this way and that in search of something. He’s worrying that plush bottom lip and you hate how your eyes trace the movement.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, please leave me alone.” You can’t help the rumble of your exasperation as his eyes land on you and he pivots toward you.

“Look, I didn’t mean for- you’re reading into this all wrong- I-“ He’s stumbling over his words as he closes the distance, catching up with your quick gait further down the street.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m allowed to be wherever I want to go. I will not shirk away from what you think is yours just because you don’t want me around. I haven’t done anything to you and I don’t even know who you are!”

A few passersby glance your way and you see a deep pink tinge the tops of his cheeks as his shoulders bunch up in obvious embarrassment. You feel it too as eyes linger and murmured words are shared. You feel the weight of your phone in your back pocket and pull it out as you turn to face him head on. The screen illuminates the way frustration had given way to slight panic as you type in your address for an uber. Tears splatter on the screen that displays too expensive drivers, and you try to get your thoughts together with a long blink. More tears cascade hot down your cheeks and you feel so foolish and overwhelmed.

“I-I didn’t mean to frighten you, please, I’m just trying to-“ He’s stopped a few feet in front of you, gauging the strike of fear that courses through you harshly.

“I don’t know why I thought this would work out.” You sob, body humming with anxiety you thought was starting to abate day by day. “I thought, I-“ Your phone slips from your trembling hands and you scramble to catch it just as he moves to do the same. It evades your attempts and smacks into the concrete of the ground, the crunch of glass telling you it’s ruined.

Everything freezes when you look up from where he’s crouched down to pick up the broken phone, his eyes wide and beseeching as he holds it out for you to take. But you don’t, body tense and rooted in place. His eyes are such a deep brown and your heart flutters in your chest in a twist of emotion. He looks so panicked, worry and concern wafting from him. It’s a puppy-eyed look if you’ve ever seen one and you feel bad for having reacted so emotionally.

“Look, I’m just- I’m new here and it was supposed to be a good night. But my coworkers ditched me and I don’t know how to get home now.”

“I could-“ His teeth clack with the force he shuts his mouth around what you were sure was to be an offer of a ride. He seems to realize that’s not the best and rubs a hand over the back of his neck in a nervous motion. “I can get you an uber or I can call a cab, if-if that’s okay with you? If you’re comfortable with that. It’s the least I can do.”

When you don’t respond, he’s reaching for his own phone in a front pocket. He fiddles with it for a few moments before he heaves a deep sigh.

“Everyone has a wait time of about half an hour, is that- are you okay with that?”

“I don’t…I…”

“Hey, it’s okay. Look…if…”He’s slipping his phone back into his pocket and holds yours out to you again. A feeling of something akin to relief floods you as the tension begins to ease. He’s trying so hard to turn the interaction around and you can’t help but think it’s endearing, if still a little mortifying at how badly it had spiraled out of control. “There’s a diner down the street, on the corner. Why don’t we grab a coffee or something with a little sugar to even out the adrenaline and just…we can talk a little and then I’ll take you home. No ulterior motive, I swear to you. I just…I can’t leave you out here, I’d feel so bad if I left you out here alone. Think about you all night…”

“O-okay.” You hear yourself agree, exhaustion slamming into you so reminiscent of a waning high that you find your body aching and sore. Coffee sounded good, a little pick me up….

“Yeah?” His eyes are glancing between both of yours, trying to read if it was really okay or if you were just trying to shrink yourself in hopes of appeasing him out of fear. When he doesn’t seem to see any, he’s taking a step closer. You don’t back away or flinch, your mind too weighed down but obviously not on edge around him any longer. Instincts telling you he’s better than the two interactions with him belay. That he’s truly a person trying to do good and smooth over the miscommunication.

“Yes.”

You find yourself in a booth across from him a few moments later, steaming mugs of fresh coffee in front of you both while you wait for the food you had ordered. You’ve calmed down enough to feel nervous for an entirely different reason. He’s…he’s handsome, but that was what had caught your attention in the first place. Broad, tall body that moves with an easy confidence. The way he carried himself telling you of his past more than words. You could recognize someone who served, and it lightens the burden of him being a complete stranger even more so.

He’s wearing a pair of thick rimmed glasses now, that he had pulled from a back pocket to read the menu and you felt your stomach flutter at the sight.

“So..um, why did your friend call you Fish?” You try to break the awkward tension that feels a little too much like the first date you had interrupted earlier on your way out of the bar. The thought sticks in your brain like a prickly burr, unyielding as you try to shake it away. There was no way…that this would turn out to be anything than a weird story to tell people at the next meeting you managed to find.

He’s glancing up from where he stirs in a hefty pour of sugar into his black coffee, thick fingers wrapped around the mug. He’s searching your face as you do the same, and you worry for a moment if your make up had smudged from the bout of tears that had taken over you. You see faded scars over his knuckles, the backs of his hands, small pieces of his past on display for your roving eyes.

“It’s a nickname, well…it was my call sign.” He seems cautious, to admit it across the formica table.  Unsure if it would unsettle you or ease your worries about him.

“Mine was Angelfish.” You respond without thinking, sharing something about yourself that you don’t tell people anymore. It doesn’t seem to matter once they see the sobriety keychain attached to your keys or the label on your work file you’re required to provide.

“You served?” His brow furrows as he looks you over once again, seeing the traces of your time served in the muscles of your arms, the straight set of your posture, the way your eyes tracked the movements of everyone else in the diner.

“Navy, SEAL explosives expert.”

“Army, Delta Force pilot. Real name’s Frankie- Fransisco. Fransisco Morales.”

You give him your name in return, out of respect, out of wanting to. He wasn’t at all the person you thought him to be.

“Do…what do you prefer I call you?” He’s rubbing his free hand over the bottom of his lip, the hush of his facial hair drawing your eyes to the movement. He’s got a bare patch on each side along his jaw and the urge to reach out and run your fingers over it startles you.

“Angel is fine, but what makes you think you’ll be needing it?” You quirk a brow at his forwardness, finding it endearing even if you felt the respect of his question. The feeling of wanting to refer to you as a civilian you both seem to be now or a reference of your shared past. He’s…he’s still new to you, but you feel your personality beginning to shine through as you sit across from him with the air cleared.

“Because, well, fuck, I-“ His eyes fall down to stare into his mug, lips pursed. But your hand is reaching out from around your own mug to rest over his on the table. The spark of contact pulling his gaze back up quickly to find a small teasing smile on your lips. You wonder if he felt it too, as your heart rate spikes when he doesn’t shove it away, instead turning to lay it palm up on the table to cradle yours.

“I’m really sorry for the way I reacted, but in my defense, you did seem rather upset with me both times you approached me.” Eyes trained on your hands, the sight of it calming…it had been so long since anyone had wanted to hold your hand, and you can’t deny that it felt good. He was warm, not just from the heat of the mug.

“I really didn’t mean for my question to run you off at that meeting. It was just…a new face makes some people nervous since it’s a pretty close group. I’m sorry if it came across that way.” He’s squeezing your hand still in his, soothing you further, trying to take what he could from you to make this a little less awkward.

“It was the one closest to me.”

The waitress suddenly appears with your meals and you’re reluctantly pulling your hand from his to reach for the silverware. He’s watching you with a soft expression as you cut up the pancakes into small pieces and stirring in the pat of butter before you reach for the syrup, his own food untouched in front of him. Before you even take a bite of yours, a fork is piercing a steaming piece of potato covered in eggs, hollandaise and bacon. And how could you possibly know that he was thinking he would give you anything to see your eyes light up as you cover your mouth as you chew the bite and nod your head to tell him that it was good?

The drive to your house is spent in comfortable silence, your attempt at directions failing. Frankie had just handed over his phone for you to type in the address for him to bring up the directions. You doubted he needed them, having learned that he grew up here and returned after his service. It was probably more for your peace of mind, though you no longer thought he was who you had at first. He was kind, a little shy, focused as he made sure you ate at least half of your food over tidbits of different lives were shared. You feel a little remorse that the evening was coming to an end, but it was probably for the best. It had been a long day of too many emotions.

His truck quiets as he pulls to the curb outside the house you had just moved into. It’s in a suburb that he tells you he lives in as well, a few streets away. He’s reaching for the glove compartment to retrieve a small pad of paper and a pen, scribbling his name and number on it. All broad shoulders and big hands in the cab of the truck.

“Don’t,” He’s pulling it back from where you go to reach for it when he holds it out to you. His lips quirk up at the corners, a dimple appearing in his right cheek as his eyes glitter in the streetlamps. “Don’t throw this away.”

“I won’t,” You can’t help the roll of your eyes and your own smile as you reach for it again. You get another whiff of his faded cologne as you so do and your cheeks warm as you realize it would linger on your skin from being in his truck. You hold it tight to your chest, as if he were making to take it back. But you’re turning to him with a reach of your hand for his and he meets you halfway. You’re pumping his clasped hand up once before releasing it with a huff of laughter.

His teeth glint as he smiles so wide it spurs butterflies in your stomach.

“I’ll put it in my phone as soon as I get it repaired or get a replacement. It’ll have a different area code than here, though, so don’t,” You’re wagging a finger at him. “Don’t ignore it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” He breathes out, voice quiet as you lock eyes with him.

“Okay.” You’re reaching for the door handle with a held breath, unable to look at him without feeling the urge to press your lips to his cheek in parting. As your feet touch the still warm concrete of the sidewalk, he’s out of the truck and rounding the front of it to hold the door open for you as you gather your purse from the footwell.

“Is this the part where you reveal your true intentions and kidnap me?” You’re only slightly joking as he crowds you against the now closed door, one hand on the closed window and the other reaching for to tuck your loose hair behind an ear. He’s so close it makes you a little dizzy, his eyes trained only on you.

“No,” His voice is so low, so close. It rumbles through your chest as he dips his head, the bill of his cap bumping the top of your head. The thickness of the air palpable beyond the humidity of the season, spurring your heart into quick beats. “This is the part where I kiss you goodnight.”

“Oh.” You barely manage to breathe out before he’s pressing his soft lips to the apple of your cheek.

 “Goodnight, Angel.” He’s pulling away with the graze of a knuckle to your other cheek. Hands stuffed into his pockets, he watches as you stutter out your own ‘goodnight’ and walk down the path set into the yard. He’s only back in the truck once he sees you step onto the covered porch, gears shifting as your keys are dug out from your bag. He’s driving off with a piece of your heart as you open the front door and turn around to watch him make a right at the corner.

You smile to yourself, feeling the lingering touch of his lips to your cheek with tingling fingers as you let yourself into the house. You already know it wasn’t the last time you’d be seeing him.

taglist: @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute @littlemisspascal @jessthebaker @burntheedges @tightjeansjavi @thetriumphantpanda

[realtalkswithfinn]

“Are You Wearing Mismatched Socks?”

Shang-Chi x widow!reader

summary: Shaun sees a new game circling the internet and decides he HAS to challenge his girlfriend to a round.

warnings: violent play fighting, very brief mention/ joke about DV (no actual domestic violence!!), very brief mentions of Shang-Chi and Readers times as trained assassins, sex joke at the very end.

authors note: I have never written any sort of fight scene or action before so this is very new to me, but it had to be done. Also, I requested this idea to another creator here on tumblr before deciding I wanted to give it a go myself. If they write their own version, I’ll tag them so you can read that version as well!

“BABE!”

“WHAT?”

“COME IN HERE!”

“WHY?”

“JUST COME HERE!”

You sigh, blowing a strand of hair out of your face. You roll off the edge of your bed, clicking your phone off in the process, and saunter down the hall toward the sound of his voice.

Shuan stood in the center of… what used to be your living room? Both recliners and your big green couch were pushed flush up against the walls. You could see your coffee table stacked on top of your dining table in the next room over. All your blankets and knick knacks were scattered throughout the space. On the bookshelf, counters, window sills - anywhere but where they belonged.

He was looking down at his phone with an amused smile on his face.

“Done some… redecorating, have we?”

He glanced up, excitement clear on his face. “I’ll put it all back later. Give me one of your socks.”

You stared at him. “Give you… one?”

He nodded, jutting his palm out. “Yeah.”

“… why.”

“I found this game, it looks super fun!” He said, walking over to where you stood. He held out his phone, which was playing a video of what looked to be a set of twins. Each girl wore one white sock. “The goal is to rip the other persons sock off and keep yours on!”

You watched the girls tickle, tackle, and wrestle each other until one emerged victorious, sweaty sock in hand.

“I don’t know Shaun, I’m not sure I wanna play a game where I have to free your dawgs.” You teased.

“Hey! My ‘dogs’ aren’t that bad. Yours on the other hand-“

You smacked his arm. “Hey-“

“That’s the spirit!” He said, tossing his phone on the couch. “Now, give me a sock.”

“Get your own so- HEY!”

He yanked your right leg up by the back of the knee, quick but careful to make sure you didn’t fall, and slid your sock off. “See, next time, you’ll try to make sure I don’t do that.”

Oh, it’s on.

“Fine.” You sigh, trying to seem unamused. In reality, you were rather excited to play. The game looked fun enough when the girls played, but a round between two ex- child assassins? Things were going to get interesting fast.

Shaun beams at you and slides the sock onto his own foot. He looks at you, then your remaining sock, and raises an eyebrow. “Are you wearing mismatched socks?”

“Do you want to play or not?”

He backs away, hands raised in a surrender motion. “My bad, my bad, I should know better than to question you.” He moves a good three feet in front of you and reaches out for a handshake. “May the best man win.”

You yank his hand forward and flip him over your shoulder, slamming him down hard onto the cushy carpet. You twist and dive, aiming for his pink striped sock, but he rolls away quickly, jumping to his feet.

“That’s totally not fair! We hadn’t started yet!”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you made all your opponents wait for your mark before fighting.”

He scoffed. “I was trying to be civil with you.”

“Don’t.”

He kicked out with his bare foot, leaving the socked one on the ground. The impact set you back a bit, but you regained yourself before slamming into the TV.

“Watch the furniture!” He teased, diving down toward your feet.

You dove over him, rolling and landing on your feet far on the other side of the living room. You crossed your arms and tapped your socked foot impatiently. “Gee, I thought the great Shang-Chi would find this game tedious. Assumed you would’ve won by now.”

Shaun rolled his eyes before running toward you again. You attempted to jump out of the way, but he snagged you by the waist. He tackled you to the floor as carefully as he could. Sweet, but his mistake. He only held you with one arm, using the other to stop your fall, making it easy for you to wiggle out of his grip.

You rolled slightly to the left and knocked him face first into the carpet. You crawled toward his foot, forgetting to keep your own feet away from his hands. You yelped when you felt him grabbing at your ankles and started kicking violently. He managed to tug your sock a bit, but lost his grip quickly.

You yanked yourself away from his hands, curling your feet under yourself into a crouch position. Shaun wasted no time crawling toward you, laughing as he went. You scuttled backward but came to an abrupt stop when you slammed into the couch.

He was closing in. You didn’t have anywhere else to run, so you took the offensive route and thrust yourself forward, sending the two of you sprawling across the carpet. The force of you landing on him was unexpected and totally knocked the wind out of Shaun. While he laid there catching his breath, you swung around and reached for his sock.

Of course, he regained his breath too fast. He sat up and grabbed you, pinning your arms to your sides. “Not cool y/n.”

“I can be less cool.” you panted. He started to say something, but you thrust your arm back and elbowed him in the ribs. You snaked out of his grip and ran across the room yet again.

Shaun stood up slowly, rubbing his rib. “Come on!”

“Sorry baby.” You laughed. You stuck out your bottom lip in a teasing pout. “I’ll kiss it better after I win.”

“Oh no, I can’t let you win after this.” He chuckled.

But you had a plan.

…Hopefully, the TV wouldn’t pay the price.

You ran at your boyfriend, gathered at much momentum as you could, jumped up, and wrapped your legs around his neck. He stumbled, but managed to regain his balance.

“Aw dude!” His voice was muffled. “Can a guy get a warning before getting a crotch to the face?”

He started smacking his own back, desperately trying to grab at your sock. But ultimately he couldn’t reach your feet at the angle. You laugh and let yourself fall backward. You dangled yourself from his shoulders and looked through your eyebrows to locate which foot had the striped sock.

Honestly, there were a million ways Shaun could have escaped this position. But all of them would’ve been pretty painful for you, and you knew he would never actually hurt you for a game. Or anything, for that matter, but especially not a game. So he continued to reach and grab for your sock.

You reached down and tickled his right leg. He kicked out a little, as that was the last thing he expected from you. He stopped reaching for your sock and grabbed your thighs instead, trying to keep you from falling while he lost his balance.

You took the opportunity to snatch the sock off his foot.

“BOO!” Shaun complained.

“Whats that?? I can’t hear you over the sound of me WINNING!”

You reached your hands down to the floor and unhooked your legs from behind Shaun’s head, gracefully kicking down as if out of a handstand, and waved the sock around in victory.

Shaun stared at you. “I can’t believe you just black widowed me.”

You shrugged. “I can’t believe you talked such big game just to be taken out by a little tickle.”

“And a crotch to the face?”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes. “So… what do I win?”

A mischievous grin spread across your boyfriends face. “Who said you won? We gotta do best two out of three.”

“What? No! I won fair and square-“

Shaun ripped the sock out of your hands and took off down the hall. “BEST TWO OUT OF THREE!”

————

You padded into your bedroom with a glass of water and a handful of ibuprofen. Shaun was already under the covers, but you could see bruises sprouting up around his exposed upper body. You weren’t much better — you had a nasty spot right on your cheekbone, as well as littered all over your body.

“Hey,” you greeted gently, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He set his phone down and looked up at you with his beautiful brown eyes. “Hey.”

You took his hand and dumped a few ibuprofen into it. “Maybe we should play a little gentler next time.”

He smiled before popping the tablets into his mouth. “Maybe.”

You passed him the water glass and he took a swig before passing it back to you. You took your own dose and set the glass on the nightstand. Shaun pulled the covers up for you to crawl under, to which you happily did, curling right up against him.

He ran his fingers over the forming bruise on your cheek. “Aw dude. Does it hurt?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“People are gunna think I hit you.”

“You kinda did.” You laugh.

“Not on purpose!” He defended. He moved his hand to cup your face before sending you a pointed stare. “You, on the other hand, had malicious intent.“

“And who won all three rounds?”

Shaun glared at you but couldn’t argue. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the bruise. “Thanks for playing with me.” He said softly.

You reached up and rested your hand over his. “Anytime. Thanks for putting the couch back.”

He chuckled, closing his eyes. “Anytime.”

————

“Dude, what happened to you?” Katy asked gawking at Shaun, who had stiffly shuffled into work covered head to toe in bruises. “Bad guys?”

“Y/n.”

Katy curled her lip in disgust. “Didn’t need to know that dude.”

“What? Oh my god Katy, no, we were playing the sock-“

“Nope. Too late. Image is already there.”

“KATY.”

[a3dan13]

American Girls - Alex Turner x fem!Reader

Word Count: 729

Summary: Running into Alex Turner after being his classmate. Inspired by AM Alex.

Warnings: None! (sassy man warning 💅)

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵ 

You grew up with Alex Turner and went to high school with him. He never took an interest in you; he said that American girls weren't really "his thing" when you asked if he'd want to hang out. You settled for being a sort of fan when the Monkeys got big. You bought the records, and you told your friends that you knew him whenever he was mentioned. You expected their faces of interest. You expected them to ask if you knew he was gonna be famous. You expected their looks when you told them that he was kind of an ass. You did not expect him to walk into the bar every teen sneaks into as a rite of passage in your town, which also happened to be your current workplace.

He and his bandmates strode up to the bar, some slightly aware of a few of the turning heads. "Ey love, 'ow are you?" Alex greeted as he took a seat. For a moment, you thought he may have recognized you, but you quickly realized he was just being kind to the bartender, who he did not know, let alone remember. Ouch.

"Good, and you?" you smiled. He looked a bit taken aback by your American accent.

"I'm alright. Say how does an American girl make it to Sheffield?" he quipped.

"By plane,” you remarked, “or boat if you're old fashioned. What can I get you?"

"Whiskey, neat." You got to pouring the drink and felt his eyes staring at you as you went along. You started to feel a bit self-conscious. Your black tank top was tight and didn't leave much to the imagination. On top of that, you were sweaty from working and your hair was swept into a messy ponytail. "You look oddly familiar," he said as you slid his glass across the bar to him.

"Is that so?"

"I don't know if it's the accent or... you just remind me of this American gal I went to school with."

"No shit," you blurted. His eyebrows shot up. He stared at you for a bit and then the look of realization lit up in his eyes.

"No shit!" he repeated, "You!"

"You don't remember my name," you laughed at him and tried to hide that you were a bit hurt.

"Nah," his voice trailed, "yeah..." He looked up at you apologetically. "Well, that makes me seem like an asshole." He rubbed his temples. "Allow me to restart," he held his hand out. "Hi, I'm Alex, I'm an ass, and you are?"

You returned his handshake, "I'm Y/N, very nice to meet such a respectful ass." He chuckled and ran his hand along the side of his hair, effectively slicking back any stray strands. You helped a few other patrons before you heard him speak up again.

"So, what have you been up to Y/N?"

"Well," you gestured to the bar. "I feel like I should be asking you."

"I have interviews for that, but I'd much prefer to hear about you."

You felt a blush pool across your cheeks. Was he flirting with you?

"I finished secondary, tried university, wasn't my thing," you told him. His eyes lingered on the way you moved with your hands on your hips as you talked. "I wanted to be an artist, I, uh-, paint.," you stammered feeling a bit shy about your shattered dreams. "But, you know, or maybe you don't, but there's a lot of painters out there, so..."

"None as cute as you though I reckon," he said almost slyly as if he hadn't meant for you to hear it... like it was a secret.

"'Scuse me?" you laughed, wanting him to repeat himself to make sure you didn't just imagine the compliment.

"You're beautiful."

"I thought you weren't into American girls," you said skeptically treading around his advances, as tempting as they were.

"Times are changin'. You've changed," he replied.

"So you thought I was ugly?"

"What? No!" he yelped nervously. "That's not what I meant." His exasperation amused you and you began to giggle at him. It was cute, how flustered he got, over you. You pulled a napkin from a tray on the bar, scribbled your number on it, and slid it across the bar to him.

"Call me, Turner." His tensely pursed lips melted into a goofy smile.

"Yes ma'am."

A/N: Should I make a part two for this where they go out on a date or smthg? lmk 💋 thank you for reading🫶

[futbol16]

Only One • Alexia Putellas

This ones short, I'm sorry!

Request: The only one who can give reader a hug during the match is Alexia because reader hates sweaty hugs and will only allow them from her gf 

Reader tackles an opponent. Opponent falling on top of reader and staying there for a bit to long for Alexias liking. Alexia going over and ripping the opponent off.

Word count: 780

Growing up you had one major pet peeve, which people were often confused by considering the team sport you played. You absolutely hated getting sweaty hugs. You were disgusted by the mere thought of having to touch someone sweaty for too long, especially when your clothes were soaked with sweat as well. 

Your teams have always been understanding and would celebrate your goals with a high five or a quick handshake, that’s how you thought it would always be. Until that one girl came along, Alexia was the only one allowed to give you sweaty hugs.

It was a well known fact by the Barca girls and they often teased you about it. How ‘don’t touch me!’ and ‘Let me hug you!’ got together was beyond them, but it was adorable and it didn’t take long for the rest of the world to notice just how close the two of you are. 

Barcelona have been on fire the whole match, leading 4-0, yourself scoring a brace and the second half has only just started. Still, you were adamant on getting your girlfriend a chance on goal and so the next time the ball is sent your way you immediately take off, making sure that Alexia would get the space for her shot. You’re already at the penalty box when you finally cross it to Alexia and with a few skillful moves she sends a rocket of a goal. 

In an instant you are running towards her, scooping her up in celebration and she grins down at you. Your teammates are quick to follow and you allow them to hug you for a few seconds, your attention still on the brunette in your arms. Soon though, with a polite smile you gently nudge them away from you and get back in position. 

The scoreboard reads 68’ minute when the game is stopped as one of the opposition players limps into a sitting position. While their medics check her you saunter over to Alexia and with your forearm placed on her shoulder you lean into her. Her arm wraps around your waist and she smiles at the side of your face.

“Can I take you out for a date tonight?” she purrs and a soft smile pulls at your lips.

“Only if we don’t concede” your cheeky reply has her letting out a laugh and she nods at you before gently shooing you away as the game is resumed.

 It’s not hard to keep the Madrid CFF players away from your team’s goal, but when González starts advancing you’re quick to go after her. You know the girls want to keep the score clean just as much as you do and so it’s a no brainer to risk getting carded as you tackle her. 

The ball is out of play as it rolls beyond the sideline, but the Madrid player looks rather lost after the unexpected slide tackle from you. She makes no effort to move as she lays half across you, her palm resting flat on your chest as she lifts her upper body to look at the ref. 

As much as you don’t want to shove her off you, you are a bit uncomfortable and you attempt to sit up. You clear your throat and she looks down at you, her cheeks a bright red color but before either of you can blink a strong hand lands on her upper arm and yanks her away from you. 

Alexia growls at González, who is on her feet in an instant and going after the ball. The brunette lets out a puff of air as she helps you up and you chuckle at her. 

“Be nice Ale” you tease her and she shoots you a look, however a squeeze of her fingers has her trying to hold back a smile and you pat her back as González gets ready for a throw in.

Before you know it the match has ended in a wonderful 7-0 score for Barcelona and you shake hands with the Madrid players, a wide smile on your face. Thanking their number 3 for the game González is next in line and she approaches you with a small smirk. 

Just as she sticks her hand out a body crashes into you and you hold onto their back, missing González’s hand by a mile.

Alexia smirks to herself as you tighten your hold on her and she makes sure the other girl is watching as she presses a sloppy kiss to your jaw. You don’t even notice Madrid’s number 20 retreat to her own team with a roll of her eyes, too entranced by your Captain.

“So about that date..”