#u will never win this battle of flUff

[cherry-leclerc]

pride ☆ mv1

genre: smut, established relationship, stubborn!max, jealous!max, humor, fluff

word count: 3k

After his DNF, Max finds himself losing his temper when you keep insisting that it was his fault. Due to both ends, you find yourself in a constant battle on who can admit defeat first.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+... gym sex - that's all teheee

req!...super fun to write, thank u, anon for the idea !!

He never liked to be pointed out as the one who did something wrong on track. Then again, he rarely ever made those types of mistakes. Max got along with everyone on the grid, but he was there to win. And he certainly did not need his girlfriend reminding him that he’s human, just like the rest of the drivers.

“Just admit it already, you fucked up this time. You cut him off.”

A DNF was as bad as it could get, his mood quickly deteriorated as he bangs his helmet against the wall. If you weren’t used to his dark behavior, then you would have definitely worried. Instead, you tap your foot impatiently with a deep sigh, eyes rolling with strong annoyance. You didn’t like to see him like this, but it drove you crazy that he could never own up to his wrongdoings. 

The Dutch harshly rips off his balaclava, dirty blond hair sticking against his angry face, normally baby blue eyes switching to a devilish color. “You’re such a…” A deep growl. “He cut me off, and that’s what got us both out of the race. What a fucking dick.”

Your brow raises up, pointing at him with accusement. “My thoughts exactly.” Turning on your heel, you spin around and walk out of his driver's room, leaving him to sulk like a manchild. Stupid, Lando.

As soon as the race ends, you sheepishly make your way to the young Brit. “Is he mad?” he asks. You shrug as if you care about what your boyfriend is feeling at this very moment. Max wasn’t the kind to get mad, he got furious. 

“He’ll get over it. Though I do suggest you run the opposite way if you spot him.” He laughs, eyes crinkling with agreement. After apologizing on behalf of the grumpy Dutchman, you hurry off to find him. Propped up against the door frame, you nervously play with the hem of your dress as you inch your way closer. You can practically see the color red blooming out of him as he smiles bitterly.

“And where were you?” His voice expands softly, it makes your stomach churn, but you put on a brave face nonetheless, refusing to give in to his ego. It doesn’t matter. He chuckles, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek, head shaking in disapproval. “Aren’t I the one you should be consoling? I don’t see why you had to go see him.”

Your eyebrows narrow down sharply. “Max, you’re being a fucking baby, you caused the crash! Lando was just unlucky and I went to let him know, is that so wrong?”

The Dutch fumes, jaw clenching. “You can go see him, I don’t give a fuck, but stop saying it was my fault. He closed in on me.” You scoff, arms crossed. “This is pure bullshit.”

“Whatever, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m glad you’re alright,” you sourly say, pushing past him to go and retrieve your things, getting ready to leave back to the hotel. His nose twitches, following after you. Neither of you utter a single word, simply packing and strolling out the door. As soon as the media gets involved and Lando walks by with a shy smile and wave, he instinctively grabs your hand, leading you through the tight crowd with a bright smile, despite his crash. 

Setting aside your differences, you’re grateful for his sweet gesture, even if it laces with a bit of possessiveness. The drive is tense, only the sound of the blinker being heard. You try adding some music, but as soon as he turns off the radio, you turn to him, hair slapping your flushed face. “Why did you do that?” Your hand slides back up, turning it on. He repeats his same actions, leaving you to burn lasers to the side of his head. 

“Your music is complete shit.” Surprised by his cold tone, your right eye twitches like a crazy person before turning your attention back towards the road. He feels bad. He’s not mad at you, not even at his friend. But he wasn’t the biggest fan of letting his team down, and much less, owning up to it. 

Pushing the door open, you march in, making your way to the bathroom, ready to shower off the irritation. Max trails after you without a second thought, then you slam the door right on his face. He blinks. He can hear you turning the water on, stripping down. “You’re taking a shower by yourself this time, you dickhead.”

-

The next few races run smoother as he finishes in first place for most of them. All of them, actually. But his wins aren’t worth it in the end. Not with your rigid congratulations, forced kisses as you wait for him along with a puddle of photographers. It shouldn’t strike him as strange; you were still upset. For a second, he considers putting his pride aside and try to fix things, make amends, but when you mumble next to him, he quickly throws that out the window. 

“Baby finally got fed his bottle.”

All his pent up emotions came rushing back as you wear an innocent smile. With a sullen glare, he walks out, leaving you to gloat. Two can play that game. 

Here’s the thing with yours and Max's relationship; it was amazing. A fucking dream. You loved each other like crazy, but when you both get into an argument, it can drag out for the longest time. Your friends had pointed it out countless times, accusing you two for being freakishly stubborn. Oftentimes, he’d be the first to give up and apologize, and sometimes it was you. Only this time, it looked like a long haul. 

It was a weird dynamic. He still kissed you goodbye, reminded you how much he loved you. You still attended his races, glowed with sincere happiness for every podium of his, but apart from that, you two still held on to your end of the rope. And it’s been so long. One month? Maybe two?

“Four fucking months,” Max grunts, large hands fixing his drinking straw that connects to his suit. The Dutch is clearly frustrated, Checo could tell as he warily eyes his teammate. The Mexican driver poured out an amused chuckle. Max curls a dark brow. “What?”

Checo halts. “Nothing, man. You’re just being so…how do I put this nicely?” He clicks his fingers enthusiastically. “You’re acting like a douchebag. Puras pendejadas, lo que estás haciendo.” The blue eyed boy shakes his head.

“I don’t know what you mean by that.” He walks away.

“It means you’re doing stupid shit for absolutely no reason. Take it from me, I’m married! I know what I’m talking about, and as your elder, I suggest apologizing. It’ll fix everything, trust me.” But Max only ignores him, already climbing into his car. As much as he would love to try and make things right with the woman he adores like a complete idiot, there’s always something that ruins it. Whether it’s you witty reminders, or your cruel ignorance.

Though, he feels like he’s going crazy. He can feel his hands itch as they beg to hug you the way they were used to. Or to kiss your plump lips, slightly red from your constant nibbles. You can feel his eyes on you as you cut up a group of vegetables, getting things ready for dinner. Like a tease, you bend down to pick up the bag of carrots that had just fallen. You giggle. “Whoops.”

Abruptly, he stands up. “I’m going to get in a small workout before we eat.” That’s all. Left there with your jaw on the floor, you slam the knife against the cutting board. 

You missed him. You’d be insane not to. You missed cuddling with him after a long day. You missed the way he would cradle your face to kiss you eagerly after every win. Now it’s almost as if you’re a couple of strangers with the way he keeps a careful distance. And if he wasn’t going to fix things, then you would force him to.

He hears you before he actually sees you. Not a single word escapes past your lips as you skip closer. His molars grind together when he notices your tiny skirt, paired with a tank top. Perky tits salute him as he holds back a groan. Smiling sweetly, you start to stretch. “Thought I’d join you. Didn’t want to eat without you.”

His heart squeezes, ghostly nodding. Adjusting himself on the bench, he starts his set of overhead presses. Loopy eyes circle his glistening muscles as he pants tiredly, shaky breaths bouncing off of him. You have to physically stop yourself from drooling an entire ocean. 

The blue eyed boy leads an impressive set, a thin layer of sweat coating him like a blanket. One you would gladly roll around in. Pursing your lips, your limbs feel extremely weak all of a sudden and decide to settle with laying down and bringing your legs up, skirt sliding down, exposing your soft skin. 

“So tight,” you whine when you reach up, muscles tied up in an uncomfortable spot. Intrigued, your boyfriend takes a peek and instantly curses, large hands gripping against the metal bar. He gulps. “Maxie, can you push my legs back for me?”

His breath hitches. “No. I’m sure you can do that yourself.”

Sitting up straight, you squint your beady eyes at him as he distracts himself by adding more weight to his set. You click your tongue, a menacing grin tugging at your pink lips. “Messed up, baby, you are messed up.”

Max curses himself for falling in love with someone as beautiful as you. It seriously messed him up a concerning amount. Suddenly there was no more cold demeanor when it came to you. That simply just belonged to the rest because you were everything to him.

“First, you’re too much of a pussy to admit your mistakes and now you’re too scared to get near me?” You scoff. “It’s all starting to add up.”

Except at this very moment.  

“And what exactly is that? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

Kneeling down onto the black mat, you stretch your arms out against it, and lay your back flat. You hum. “Oh.” You arch your back, ass angling upwards where his eyes quickly trace to. You smirk. “Nothing.”

If he weren’t so impressed by your bratty act, he would have definitely walked out on you. But you just looked so pretty, rosy, and you were glistening. He wonders what else there was on top of that. The Dutch moves on to a bench press. Huffing, he grits his teeth as he extends his arm before puffing and bringing them back down.

The 26 year old, despite your attempts, was as focused as he could possibly be. The adrenaline was lingering in his entire system as he kept his eyes trained upward. Chest locking tightly, muscles contracting. And then he hears it. Your tiny moans, soft whimpers.

The loud sound of him dropping the weight makes you jump up a bit before looking up. He finds you in your first position you had started with when you first stepped foot into the home gym. He can feel his cock press harshly against his white shorts. “Why are you…” He trails off when your mouth drops open, brows scrunching together. Your thighs beg to be kissed. Slippery arms tug your legs closer to you as you giggle. 

“My legs are too tight.” His chest tightens. “Help me get more flexible?” you press innocently as you signal for him to push your legs. “Please, Maxie.”

Sighing, he nods. As soon as he steps close to you, he can feel your pouring lust, fuck me eyes staring back up at his frame. Grabbing the heels of your feet, he pushes back as you groan. “Oh shit.” You laugh, chest vibrating against the mat. “I really needed the extra push.”

He grimaces. A silence lingers between you two before you wiggle your left foot against his palm. He raises a confused brow. I’m going to tuck it to my chest. Just hold the right one. Doing as instructed, you sigh in relief, lashes fluttering. He holds back a much needed grunt. “You’re telling me you couldn’t do this yourself?”

You nip the air. “We’re not all professional athletes, Max. I needed you.”

You can see how hard your implication is hitting him as his gaze darkens. And just as he’s about to reach out for you, you wiggle your brows. Next leg. Snapping out of trance, he eyes the way your skirt rides down your skin. In a swift movement, he lets go and takes a staggered step back. You grin. What’s wrong?

“You’re crazy.”

Standing up, you place both hands on your waist. “Why?”

Max doesn’t even recall when he pins you against the wall, your hair flying from the impactful blow, and yet, you’re smirking. Kissing you harshly, you groan, leaning against your tippy toes as you struggle to breath. He seems to be lost in your lips as he cradles your face, teeth clashing against yours at the filthy action. “You’re so beautiful,” he pants, blues staring back. “So fucking beautiful.”

Whimpering, you reach back out for him, plump lips attacking his thick neck as he sighs. The purple bruises were definitely something he would hound you on tomorrow, but for now that was the least of his worries. Admiring the colorful spot, you lick it slowly. He shudders. 

“I can suck something else, you know?”

You almost don’t recognize his growl, for you haven’t heard it in so long, that it catches you by surprise as he spins you around, bending you over the nearest counter, where his wall of protein stands. He hitches your skirt up as you gasp when his fingers slide inside of you. The way he stretches you out makes you see stars as you struggle to keep upward. 

“Wore this just for me, right? You knew it would drive me crazy?” His long fingers curl at the perfect angle as you nod. Yes, yes. I wore it just for you. I knew you’d like it. You squeal when he lifts you up, tits pressing against the cold marble, legs dangling like a doll. His doll. He watches the way you swallow his digits. “I fucking love it, baby…”

Then, he’s down on his knees as he wraps his lips around your clit. Moaning loudly, you press your cheek against the cool tiles, saliva dripping out of your mouth at the sensation. In your fucked up state, you still reach out for him as he grabs your hand. “You taste so sweet,” he hums. You’re close to crying when he pulls away, but calm down when he thrusts into you. 

The Dutch throws his head back as soon as your velvety walls wrap around his cock, the way you swallow him whole. Makes him hate himself for holding onto his pride for so long. For keeping you away. His heart races when you prop yourself on your elbows as stare back at him with tired, lustful eyes. He grins, slapping your ass as you yelp. You ass tilts up as he watches you struggle to keep up. 

Warm hands come up to keep you close to him as you bite down on your lip. “You’re a fucking brat, but God, I hate it because you were right. I pushed him off. I did, I did, I did…” His dirty hair sticks against his face as you bounce forward with every pound. “But he was making you laugh - smile - and I just couldn’t handle that.”

Your heart stops. This was news to you because there was no way the Max you knew so well would break his winning streak all due to a friendly encounter. He pecks your bare shoulder. “I don’t think you understand how much I love you.”

“Then show me.”

WIth that, he holds onto your hips with more grip as his tip brushes repeatedly against your g-spot. You’re a mess, but he’s loving every second of it. As soon as he wraps a large hand around your breast, you’re gone, spluttering white all around him as he follows. With a croaky groan, he slips out as you fall back to your original spot. He chuckles. He fixes your skirt before helping you sit up to face him. Your eyes crinkle. 

“You love me,” you say in a sing-song voice as you poke his dimple. I thought I made that clear. You scrunch your nose, pecking his face all over with sloppy kisses. He playfully winces, but accepts nonetheless. “You love me, love me. Why would you ever worry about me and Lando? You know he’s just a friend.”

His smile drops as it's replaced with a scowl. “I wasn’t worried, per se. I don’t like someone else making you laugh. That’s my job.”

Your brows arch. “What are you suggesting? That I just keep mute for the rest of my days, unless I’m with you?”

Max shrugs. “Sounds like a solid plan.”

You smack his chest as he throws his head back with laughter. “No. Not a solid anything. Max, I love you.”

“I know,” he whispers. 

“Okay,” you confirm, fixing your posture, lips pursing. “But please never do that again, that’s just plain out dangerous and crazy. A big no-no, Emilian.” He glares and your lips wobble childishly. “You love wins, and I love celebrating them with you. It just works.”

“You know what doesn’t work?” he retorts as he hugs you. You hum, comfortable against his warmness. “Not talking to me for four months, what were you thinking?” You push him away abruptly. We spoke! “But we didn’t fuck, and that’s the same thing.”

Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes as he stares back in awe. “If you keep this up then I’m going to crank it up to eight,” you threaten. 

The Dutch nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck before you cave in. “Let’s not do that. You’d be breaking my heart.”

taglist: @myownwritings @d3kstar @crucifiedbitch

*note: i've only tagged those who asked to be included in general. i've kept that apart from the method acting series taglist!! lmk in which you would like to be, just in case!

[unluckilyimnot]

HIIYA!!!! I hope ur good :D u think u could write abt a bf!Sae who lives in the same house with y/n?They have a cat but Sae and the cat don’t get along too well, like, they only stay in the same place cuz y/n.

sae hates your cat

sae x reader

fluff

m.list || rules

note : sae is a silly goofy man fight me, he argues for nothing and that's such a good idea, i loved it too much. bonus point bc i'm allergic to cat and i make this everyones problem (I love cats)

Requests are open ! <3

Sae never thought he would say that once beside soccer, but he has one enemy, a fatal one, that keeps winning over him, that he never seems to beat : your cat.

One day, you bring home this filthy little hairball and since he was running this place as if he owned it. He doesn’t, nor did Sae ; let’s be honest, that was the only reason he still accepted it.

Sae isn’t a pet lover from the beginning, but he promised he will try because he loves you dearly and he never thought it would be that hard to get along with.. that.

It is.

Everyday is a battle and he knows he can’t tell anything about your cat because you’ll side with the animal instead of him. It drives him crazy.

He can’t move like he wants in his bed, half of the couch is always taken and if not, worse ! He’s laying in your lap and Sae can’t approach you without being hissed at. If you ever feel like teasing him over pouting, take your cat in your lap : great success guaranteed. But be prepared for him to give you some damn silent treatment in return (he’s not as good at it as he used to be, he’s too down bad for you.)

He knows the hate is not one sided, the cat never comes even near him – he doesn’t remember touching him in fact. For the better if you ask him, but Sae still can’t understand why you adopted that damn cat since you’re god damn it allergic ? He hates this creature even more for making you cry all the time.

“Stop staring at him Sae, he didn’t do anything,” you try to ease the situation, very well aware that Sae hates your cat.

“He exists, that's enough for me.” you sigh at his words, not knowing what to do to make it work. You sneeze, four times in a row before cursing underneath your breath. “Yeah, I hate him for that too.” He added while handing you a handkerchief.

“That’s nothing.” you whined but still smiled at him as a thank you.

Sometimes he throws some threat, hoping you won’t hear a thing or when you’re not even home. He still takes care of him when he has to, but he’s never happy about it. “I’m only doing that because she asks me to.” He warns every time he does something for him.

There are still times when he wins a little, which is the night when you can’t breathe and your eyes are burning so much you can’t stop rubbing it he has to force you not to. That’s kinda your ‘take care of yourself’ nights and Sae loves those with all his heart because HE can take care of you. Yes, he will change the bed’s sheets for you while you take a shower. Yes, he will prepare a warm towel for you to put on your eyes. Yes, he will put physiological saline in your eyes for you.

His favorite night, like I said. Also those when the cat is banned from the room, and Sae takes a pervert pleasure in closing the door in front of him.

“Go kick the bucket and leave me alone.” he whispers, begging for you to be already half asleep.

“Sae !”

I hope you liked it ♡

[nyx-is-missing]

Could u write one for clarisse where she's impressed with femR bc of how good she is at fighting and all and clarisse finds her incredibly attractive bc no one has challenged her the way R does?

And like a bit of pining until the two confess

Thank you!!

Breathtaking or taken

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader

Summary: when Clarisse finds a opponent worth of her, she is breathtaken.

Warnings: none really, just fluff, not a descriptive fight scene on sight cause mama dont know how to write that, so just fluff fluff, and mutual pining fluff

(Do i need to say its not proofread? No? Thank you)

Here is one of the main benefits of being a daughter of Athena, you'll know.

DIfferent from other gods, Athena will let your parent know it is her who they are talking to.

And if letting them know beforehand isnt enough, she will let them know when the baby is brought to them, and if your parent is smart enough to live up to her choice, you'll have time to learn a thing or two before being thrown into this world.

If your parent cares enough about you, you'll have time.

And sure as hell my mom cared.

Always the intelectual woman, historian, researcher, writter, my mom knew many things about ancient greece, she knew all the stories by heart, and she, of all people, knew what she needed to do, to preserve her only daughter, her sacred gift.

She teached me all i needed to learn without compromising myself, stories, languages, art...and fight.

Little girls my age were doing dance classes, were trying to be good enough for drama club, were playing tea party with their dolls or making a mess with their mom's make up.

Well...i.. i was doing martial arts, i was fencing, i had my face in a book every free time i got.

I always asked her about it, why was she so strict about never missing a fight leasson, her answer always made sense, there and now.

"The world is cruel, especially for little girls, someday i might not be all the time with you, someday, you'll fight your own battles, you need to be ready"

Every word, every single word is true.

And that is how i ended up here, in a arena of camp half blood, sparring with Clarisse, and winnig, by two points, yes, but winning.

It is clear nobody expected that from me, neither did she actually, i can see in her eyes.

Understandable, they expect Athena kids to be calm, find a solution, not fight her way out.

Honestly their looks dont bother me, i dont even think much of it, but Clarisse's looks, they got something more to them, like a kid who finally got the dog she really wanted.

"Aaand break time Clarrise, we'll continue this tomorrow, id like to enjoy the rest of my afternoon thank you"

I dropped the sword down and started to undo my armor while walking close to the exit.

"Wait wait wait, now? Already? C'mon i didnt even had time to figure out how do you do that... all of that"

She stood next to me, still holding her sword and honestly.. she was beautiful, yes she was sweaty now and yes she was mean to everyone but.. now...right now, she was beautiful, shining, in her element really, flushed cheeks and a smile she only had when with a sword in hand.

"I practice, ever since i was a kid, everyday, well expect in weekends but yeah, almost everyday... how do you do all that? You are good...-want some water?"

I offered her my bottle also motioning for her to walk with me, both wich she gladly accepted.

"I practice too...and i never said this to anyone but, you are good, great even, and look breathtaking"

We stop walking, we stop all actually.

"I look what, Clarisse?"

"Breathtaken- you look out of breath, do you want the water back?"

Ah.

Weeks later i found myself in the same scenario, sparring with Clarisse again, actually that is all i do when it comes to training, be with Clarisse

"C'mon curls, thats the best you've got? No need to go easy on me"

"Im not going easy, i already told you, you caught me distracted thats all- GIRL WIll YOU SUSH?"

She tried to block you with her sword, thankfully for her, a succeded attempt.

"How could i? You're so fun to mess with, gets all red n all"

"Oh you want to talk about getting red?"

In a moment i was on the floor, Clarisse on top of me, and i couldnt speak, all i could do was stare into her big brown eyes, who looked right into my soul.

"Cant speak anymore huh? Oh if you could see the red im seeing-"

Now this my ladies and gentlemen, this is what i call a shot of faith.

I raised my head a little and just..i kissed her, it was quick but I did it, and her face went blank.

"Now you are breathtaken Curls, how about that?"

"And you are still breathtaking"

Still?

Oh

Oh.

"You...like me Clarisse?"

"You didnt knew?"

Oh.

"....no..?"

"Would you walk away if i kissed you this time?"

"....no."

[archive-of-alexandria]

Weak Ankles (Zoro x Reader)

A/N: One big helping of Zoro x Reader fluff, full of pining with a healthy dose of yearning. Somewhat inspired by that scene in Hercules, because it just felt too perfect for Zoro <3 xx

**

Zoro has never encountered a fight he can't muscle his way out of.

Having recessed into the corner booth of some podunk tavern while armed with nothing but a dangerously low bottle of sake and a healthy dose of self-imposed misery, however, he feels his chances of winning this particular battle dwindle by the minute.

As his swig bleeds the bottle dry, Zoro groans and drags his hand over his face. He succumbs to his desire to wallow.

Hell or high water, right?

Zoro has never encountered a fight he can't muscle his way out of, but the swordsman has never charged head-first into mushy feelings either.

Perhaps that's why he's seeking refuge back on the Going Merry as the sounds of the party rattle on the breeze behind him, trailing him, like a specter.

Zoro grimaces.

Kunia had once explained sword fighting as a language, and the idea has stuck with Zoro ever since. Sparring matches had turned into spelling bees, each hit earning a vowel or letter.

The first one with enough hits to spell out f-u-c-k-y-o-u was always the winner.

Zoro knows the language of fighting well.

There is no training to be had for situations like these...situations that call for finesse with words that can't be spoken with the hilt of a blade.

The ocean is deep and dark with evening and yet Zoro's eyes are glued to the depths, willing divine intervention to give him a direction.

He gives the railing a small shake, mock-pretending the water is like one of those fortune-teller spheres. No reply but his own reflection.

Outcome is unlikely.

A stirring on the deck catches his attention, hand moving to his hilt as he stiffens.

A soft voice breaks through the night.

"Hello."

...

"Hey."

**

Zoro's eyes zoned in on a figure through the sake's warped glass, the sight impossible to miss even from his hiding place. Zoro's lip had quirked up, though he'll never admit it - another small defeat at the hands of his unsuspecting foe.

Who could ever miss a sight such as you?

No, there was absolutely no way a soul in the taverna could miss the sight of you - your feet planted firmly on a tabletop with your head thrown back in glee. You're a whirlwind of whipping hair and skirts as a maritime shanty pours from your throat. Grog splashes from the stien in your grip, ale sloshing and spraying like the ocean you merrily sing of. The whole of the island seems to be singing with you, the tavern bursting with music and laughter as patrons slur out the words to the refrain.

When Luffy argued that pirating wouldn't be complete without a bard to chronicle the legendary adventures of the Going Merry, Zoro had staunchly opposed the idea. What good would a bard be in battle? What navigation skills, if anything?

Someone can't sing their way to victory.

As Zoro sat mesmerized, he began to think he was very, very wrong.

This is true power, Zoro mused from his place of solitude, Swaying complete strangers with nothing but the sound of your voice.

When he realized he'd been grinning like a fool, Zoro swallowed.

He was desperately losing this uphill battle.

**

The deck of the ship suddenly seems miles long.

Zoro can make out your reddened cheeks in the darkness, alight with the warm glow of youth as a sweet smile settles on your lips.

"You left."

Zoro's heart clenches at the simplicity of your words. He doesn't move.

"Yeah, I did."

Undeterred, you begin to move towards him. It's stumbly, though the sound of your soft chuckle lets him know you're aware of how foolish you seem. He watches as you make your way towards him, your eyes never leaving his face.

A homing beacon.

"I was wondering where you'd gone,"

"Hm?"

"I was saving a dance for you, Zo."

Your voice is quiet. Zoro's blood runs cold.

You had sought him out - he imagines your eyes twinkling, hair wild and free falling all around you like a halo as you reached for him from your makeshift stage only to find him gone.

To punctuate your confession, your feet seem to shuffle in a dance much too elegant for having been stomping on tables and slamming down ale, and yet here you are - light as a feather in the midsummer breeze.

The bouncing of your body keeps in rhythmic time with the gentle crash of the waves, and realization crosses the swordsman's face.

You're not dancing. You're moving through the seogi he has taught you during training.

Zoro's heart swells, a breath of a laugh passing through his lips.

"That's some fancy footwork, twinkle toes."

As if his words jinxed you, your foot catches hold of a divot in the planks. Zoro's reflexes are quick, securing you to his chest as you squeak out a yelp - an arm around your waist and the other on your forearm without so much as a thought.

A bashful smile blooms on your blushing face, cheeks dusted pink from the alcohol and the proximity of your bodies. You try to stand, pressing your forehead to his.

"Hmm..." You chuckle, closing your eyes tight. You bunch up Zoro's tunic in your fingers.

He wonders if you can feel his skin on fire beneath the flimsy fabric.

He holds his breath.

"Weak ankles."

The thick summer air is sucked from Zoro's lungs. You're near catlike in the way you seem to curl into him, nestling closer and closer...

Before the moment settles too deep, you're speaking again.

"Oh! That reminds me of a story...!"

"Haven't you told enough stories tonight?"

Although he teases, Zoro doesn't mean it. No. Not when the sky is clear and bright and your body is pressed so tightly to his and your eyes seem to glitter as they peer into his own.

As you playfully swat his chest and snort out a laugh, Zoro silently vows to spend a lifetime listening to your tales.

"N-No! No," You insist, "This is my last one - promise! Telling stories is my job anyway~!"

No one is around to hear the giggles from the two of you or to see the way Zoro's smile hangs lopsided, or to catch the slight flex of his fingers as he pulls you even closer.

"Well then," He gently butts your forehead with his,

"Go on."

You begin to weave a tale of a brave young soldier, born with great skill and undefeated in battle. You tell Zoro the hero reminds you of him. He stumbles out a "thank you".

You say that the "great soldier" had lived in disguise as a young woman, sparking a short, teasing aside about how he would make a lovely woman (which Zoro vehemently denied).

You speak of a great battle and your gaze is far away, your fingers tracing patterns along Zoro's chest, every tug and pull of the fabric between your fingers tightening the hold on his heartstrings.

You explain how the soldier's mother had dipped him in a river but forgot the heel, and in his final battle was struck down in the very same spot. You make a quip about everyone having their very own "heel" in life before proclaiming that the tale is very romantic and sad.

Your arms slide up and around his neck, fingers finding their way into his hair.

Zoro's jaw clenches. Your eyes fall to his lips.

There is no wind, no waves. The entire world seems to have stopped breathing in anticipation.

Zoro's mind desperately searches for anything from his training to tether himself to at this moment, foggy from the way your breath tickles his face and the blood pounds in his ears.

In an instant, he makes a move.

"Your...your ankle."

He drops to his knee, breaking all contact.

Your breathing shutters, arms wrapping around yourself in comfort.

Zoro is glad it is dark.

He takes in the delicate slope of your ankle in his hand, pulling the bandana from his head to prep a makeshift brace for your sprain.

You sit in silence as he works, though his mind is far from quiet.

Zoro cannot afford to have soft spots like weak ankles. All of his training will be wasted.

No.

Zoro cannot afford to admit that he's in love with you. Not to you, not even to himself.

Your hand gently raking through his hair pulls Zoro from his stupor, eyes snapping up to meet yours.

"My hero," You hum, "Zoro..."

He can see himself reflected in your irises.

Your hand moves to caress his face.

It never happens.

Zoro grabs your wrist before you can even blink, gaze downcast, and grip uncomfortably tight.

"We should get you to bed."

**

Zoro hasn't slept in three days.

You've been avoiding him for three days.

Zoro doesn't blame you, though - he knows that he embarrassed you a few nights ago. Nami makes sure he knows just how badly he fucked up as well, throwing glares in his direction and spitting venom his way...

How could you do that to her?

Don't you realize how much she cares for you?

Have you transported all of your brains into your muscles, asshole?!

The Going Merry was certainly a far cry from merry.

Luffy was the only crewmate who entertained the idea of sparring with Zoro without an alternative motivation to beat the shit out of him for what he's done.

As Zoro countered Luffy's hook, the sound of your laughter floated through the air.

In a moment of weakness, he allowed himself to look.

You were seated as Chopper entertained you with his dance moves, clapping encouragement and cooing praises. The smile on your face made Zoro's chest grow tight.

Luffy had taken the opportunity to pounce in Zoro's distraction, sweeping the swordsman's leg clean out from underneath him.

"Ha HA! Gotcha! Victory!"

Nami whoops from down below, and Zoro mutters a curse.

"What happened there, Zoro?"

Luffy's voice is far away as Zoro thinks back to fighting lessons with you. He had taken Kunia's advice, using his sword to speak the words he could not. Every tap, every jab, each little correction of your form follows the sparring language he had made up as a child.

Every time, he finds ways to spell out i-l-o-v-e-y-o-u.

Zoro had promised to teach you how to fight for selfish reasons. He can't afford to let his weaknesses show, but helping you grow strong enough to protect yourself...that will have to be enough. Even if you can't see it that way.

Zoro sucks his teeth, giving his head a shake as he accepts Luffy's help up.

"Tch - weak ankles..."

[foodiegoogie]

bittersweet reminiscing

james potter x implied fem!reader ✮ 3.2k

summary: it’s a wedding, but it’s not yours. all the while you put yourself into a situation that’s both self-deprecating and weirdly, self-reflective. all because of a certain bespectacled person you’re very much in love with.

cw/tags: friends to lovers to exes to friends :’), initial fluff, eventual angst, buckle up kids

note: HELLO! to whoever comes across this, i’m ngl… idk what i was doing with this one 😭 but all i can say is that it’s loosely based on the apartment we won’t share by niki <3 my queen, my lady <33 with that, i hope u enjoyyyy 🥹

( ♡ )

Inside each of us are two wolves; one is evil, one is good. Those wolves constantly battle against each other, and as for which wolf wins - well, that entirely depends on you.

You apply the same sentiment to James, because while everyone else compares him to the sun - blinding, effervescent, and almost always the center of attention - you compare him to a two-faced maniac. Actually, more appropriately, you think of him as a two-faced maniac.

Because inside of James Potter there are two contradicting sides to his personality; one that’s easy to love, and one that’s easy to hate.

You were fortunate enough to witness both of these sides to his bizarre personality, to put it simply. You can’t forget the very first time you met his warm brown eyes with yours, and the way he beamed at you instantly like he knew something you did not (in the future, you think to yourself that maybe that was true). You first have an encounter with the side of James that’s easy to hate, what with the jokes and pranks he pulled as a young boy in Hogwarts, coupled with the relentless teasing he threw your way each and every time he’d catch a glimpse of you in the corridors of the castle, or sit next to you during classes.

Even then, you also remember the very first time you caught sight of the side of James that was easy to love.

—

“Hey, you,” You don’t need to turn your head to know who it was that sat beside you. And you don’t need to look at him to see the mischievous smirk on his face, because you could already hear it in his voice.

You expect him to bring up something ridiculous that he’s noticed about you in particular today, like he always does in his ‘routine’ with you, but the growing silence between you is void of that. You start to turn your head to look at him out of curiosity when he speaks up again.

“Helloooo?” James drawls, his annoyance is clear in his voice even as he calls your name. “I’m trying to talk to you, and you won’t even look at me? How rude.”

It takes every ounce of your pride not to roll your eyes at him. You wouldn’t give James the satisfaction of showing how much he bothers you. Otherwise, he’d never stop.

Nevertheless, he doesn’t stop.

You hear him scoff in disbelief from beside you, and an image of him with crossed arms and a pout on his lips crosses your mind.

“Wow, you’re giving me the silent treatment? And here I thought we were just starting to get along just fine!” And just as quickly as he starts, James is rambling on about how it was totally unfair that you’re just blatantly ignoring him when the first class of the day had barely even begun.

You decide right then and there to finally turn your head towards him, and James cuts himself off from his rambling as the corners of his lips curl up into an amused smirk.

He’s not even fazed in the slightest as you glare daggers at him. “There you are,” He smiles victoriously, crossing his arms as his chest puffs out with pride. “Took you long enough.”

This time, you allow yourself to roll your eyes.

“You were being loud, and I prefer to wait for our professor in silence,” You emphasise the last word of your statement, looking pointedly at James.

He’s still smiling at you as he says, “Yeah, I know.”

You ought to punch the smile off of his face. “You know?”

James nods his head, and his messy curls follow with the motion. You think it frames his face quite nicely, fortifying his boyish charm. But then you remember that you’re supposed to be annoyed with him, not charmed.

“Of course, I do,” He grins, “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

“James, we aren’t friends.” You hear yourself speak, although you obviously thought otherwise with the hint of fondness in your tone.

“What?!” He gasps, bewilderment etched onto his face. “We aren’t?”

You could tell that he was just being himself, theatrical with the bewildered look on his face. James’ eyes are wide with mock-disbelief, his nostrils are flaring, and his mouth is hung open like he’s actually shocked.

Before you even realise it, you’re already laughing hard, and your hand moves to clutch your stomach in the process.

James smiles at the sound of your laughter, taking in the way your eyes were crinkled and sparkling with amusement. He looks proud of himself.

“I like your laugh,” He says to you in a soft, honest voice. “You should do it more often when you’re with me.”

The laughter dies down in your throat, and you can’t tell how you feel about his words. But your chest fills with a weird sense of warmth, and it spreads throughout your whole body as James continues to gaze at you like you’re the most interesting thing to look at.

—

You remember it quite vividly, that very moment in time. It happened back when you were just first-years, new to the world of Hogwarts, and to each other. But you suppose you’re able to vividly picture the memory in your head, even after all this time, because James still manages to give you the same warm feeling that fills your chest and spreads throughout your body.

It’s there when he compliments you genuinely for the first time, and it’s there when he smiles at you when you lock eyes with each other from across the room.

It’s not there, however, when he voices out his feelings for Lily Evans to you during your fourth year at Hogwarts.

—

“Honestly, she can slap me with a book, and I’d thank her.” James sighs dreamily as he places his chin on his hand.

“Alright, Jamie. I think we’ve got your point.” Sirius rolls his eyes at his friend’s dazed expression. You snicker at his reaction, and you silently hope it’s enough to hide the disappointment in your eyes.

The boy in question, however, still continues. “No, because – why is she so pretty? And kind? And smart? Bloody hell, she’s perfect! How is she perfect?”

You and Sirius sigh in unison, although for very different reasons; Sirius sighs out of exasperation from James’ dramatic antics, and you sigh out of, well, despair.

You can’t quite place when it all had started. You just remember that once upon a time, James was easy to hate. But then, once upon another time, he suddenly wasn’t.

From then on, James had switched to being relentless in his pursuit of Lily instead of being relentless with teasing you. This had lasted until the end of your sixth year at Hogwarts, but much to no avail, James was nowhere near capturing the heart of the girl of his dreams.

—

The sight of James slumped down against the couch, looking so down on his luck, reminds you of a wilted flower. It makes you sad, and it breaks your heart.

In the midst of your attempts at comforting him, a sickly feeling lies deep in your chest. A selfish voice whispers in the back of your mind, this is your chance, it says. You don’t hear it. You don’t want to hear it.

“It’s not the end of the world if she doesn’t notice you, you know,” You say to him, your voice low and soothing as you allow it to be, in spite of your own feelings.

James just sighs heavily for what seemed like the nth time that day, a deep frown decorating his pretty lips. “Well, it feels like it.”

You sigh in return, more out of exasperation than in sympathy this time. You open your mouth again to retort with another attempt at consoling him, but he beats you there first with another self-deprecating comment.

“I mean, what’s wrong with me?” James looks at you, and you can see the pain in his eyes. It tugs at your heartstrings, and it makes you want to do everything you can to make it go away.

And so, you do.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, James,” You scoot closer to him where you sit on the couch, but keep a reasonably safe distance away from him still. “Absolutely nothing. Sure, you’re a little overbearing at times, but that’s okay. That’s who you are.”

For a moment, it seems like he takes the weight of your words in, and mulls it over in his head. But then, “How do I know that who I am is okay?”

You resist the urge to sigh heavily and cry. Because nothing could ever hurt more than watch the boy you’re in love with beat himself up over his inability to catch a girl’s attention — who, not to mention, isn’t you, but that’s beside the whole point.

“James….” Your voice trails off, it catches his attention.

“Sirius, Remus, and Peter are proof enough that who you are is okay. Merlin– even I’m proof enough that who you are is okay.”

This time around, it actually does seem like James realizes the truth in your words, and allows a small smile to appear on his face.

“You really think so?” He asks sheepishly.

You almost scoff in disbelief. “I know so.”

Now, you think that perhaps that was the time you had inadvertently diverted James’ attention from Lily back to you, because the week following that particular conversation, he appeared before you with a certain look in his eyes that you only saw in your foolish dreams.

Long story short, he says that he likes you. You say you feel the same way, and the both of you step into a new relationship together as more than just friends. This is the nicest feeling ever, you thought at the time. Everything you’ve dreamed of doing with James suddenly became a reality, and selfishly, you think you never want to dream about anything ever again because nothing could ever compare to the feeling of being with James in actuality; holding hands, stealing kisses, casual touches, sharing glances across the room—everything.

The both of you last a month at best.

—

“Hey,” You greet him with a small smile as you approach him on the couch in the Common Room.

You prepare for the conversation that’s about to come as James tears his eyes away from a certain redhead sitting across the room, and shifts his attention to you.

He returns your smile with his own.

“Hey,” James greets back as you sit yourself down beside him. “How’s your day been?”

“It’s... it’s been great,” You chuckle weakly as you nod along with your words, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself that you were having a great day. James catches onto it.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” He shifts closer to you, your knees bump into each other. You subtly pull away from the touch, and you thank the gods that James doesn’t notice.

“James, I…” You trail off, struggling to find the words to say. Meanwhile, he remains oblivious to your inner turmoil as he nods his head encouragingly, ready to listen to your thoughts.

How exactly do you break up with someone who you want to be with more than anything? Now that James was yours, you had wanted nothing more to hold him close and never let go. It was selfish, you knew that feeling well enough. But still, it always comes, and it never goes.

It isn’t what you wanted to do—it’s never what you wanted to do—but you notice how James still stares at Lily Evans longingly when she’s in the same room as the both of you are, how it lingers even when you ask him what he was looking at despite knowing the answer. It doesn’t take much effort to understand that James’ heart still lies with Lily’s hands. And as much as it hurt for you to realize that, you knew that you needed to do this. You knew that you both needed this, even if you wanted nothing more than to keep him close to you.

“I think we should end things… between us.” You finally manage to say after a gruesome moment of silence. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a head with fiery red hair turn subtly towards your direction.

James’ brows pinch in confusion, and his hands reach out to hold you by the arms. You don’t pull away.

“What? Why?” He asks you, pleading for you to make him understand why you’d say such a thing.

“I just…” You take a quick breath. “I just feel like we’re better off as friends.”

You couldn’t believe what you were saying, and it looked like even James couldn’t either. All you could think of was how you wanted to take it all back, take him back.

At first, it seemed like he was about to contradict your statement, and you push down the hope that bubbles in your chest at the sight of it. But then, he sighs, pulling his hands away from your arms and placing them on his lap.

“There’s no spark, is there?” James says with an apologetic smile. You hate it, in spite of the fact that it was his smile.

You swallow down the lump in your throat and force a smile of your own onto your face, shaking your head.

“No. No spark.” You hear yourself say, but you know deep down that it wasn’t true. There was a spark, but it didn’t ignite into a fire because it was one-sided. Unrequited. Unreturned.

“Well,” James began, “It was fun while it lasted, Y/N.”

You try to ignore the fact that the sound of your name on his tongue leaves you with a bittersweet feeling, considering the situation you’ve just put yourselves into. But, you force a smile, and act as natural and casual as you possibly could.

“Yeah, it was fun,” You agreed quietly, not quite finding the conviction you hoped for in your words.

And so, it began; you keep a front every time you were around James, you try not to be bothered by how unbothered he is despite coming from a break up with you, but you suspect you should have known better than that. It wasn’t like he really liked you anyways, right? You had offered yourself up when the opportunity presented itself, and regardless of the magical month that you and James had together, it made you feel like shit.

Because it was still one-sided. Unrequited. Unreturned.

Thinking about it now, you deem yourself foolish for even entertaining the whole idea that you and James actually stood a chance - no, that you stood a chance with him altogether. You beat yourself up over the fact that you’ve had silly dreams that house you and James together in a place of your own, matching rings on both of your hands, little footsteps running around the house, and laughing together because of how pathetically you pined after him, and how much of an idiot he was to realize it later.

You’ve accepted that it’s a dream you won’t ever share with James.

—

“Sickle for your thoughts?” Remus’ voice ripples through the tense air you’ve managed to surround yourself in. He’s studying your face intently, taking in the way your brows are creased with concentration, and how you’ve been glaring daggers at the innocent, folded table napkin in front of you.

You blink rapidly, as if snapping yourself out of your own thoughts, and remembering the present. It was a happy day, a momentous occasion between two beings in love - that’s what everyone else called it, anyway. You’ve managed to convince yourself that it’s what you’re gonna call it, too. Despite it being a momentous occasion between a girl you once wished was you, and a man you’ve loved ever since you could perform the Levitation Spell in first year.

You begin with a sigh, “It’s nothing, Rem. Just doing some last-minute reminiscing before my grand speech,” You hide your bitterness with a soft chuckle.

Remus, ever the observant one, sees through it. But he doesn’t say anything about it, and instead, settles for a sigh and a hand over yours. You’re grateful for his thoughtful gesture of silent support, and so you turn your hand over, palm facing his own, and give it a squeeze.

The intimate moment is shattered by Sirius’ yell for a toast to the groom and bride. You and Remus share an amused glance with each other before raising both your glasses up in the air as a toast, mirroring Sirius and each and every one of the other guests there with you.

“Okay, show’s over, folks,” Sirius slurs, clearly a little tipsy (or more than a little) as he looks pointedly at you with a smirk from up front. “It’s the pretty bird’s turn.”

Most heads turn to follow his gaze towards you, and whisper to each other, asking who it was that the best man was referring to, but some throw you knowing, and expectant looks, maybe even a hint of a smile on some of their faces.

But you don’t care about any of them as you lock eyes with James for the briefest of moments, and you feel your heart stutter in your chest because wow, he looks good in a tuxedo, and wow, his smile is dazzling, and you feel lucky it’s thrown at you, even if it doesn’t mean the way you want it to.

You stand up from your seat, Remus gives you an encouraging smile, and you return it warmly with one of your own. As you approach the front, Sirius hugs you by the side and presses a chaste kiss to the top of your head, and you mutter a quiet word of thanks because you know what it means. You silently thank every deity out there for having the kindest friends in the world as you take a deep breath and prepare to say your words for James and Lily.

It goes like this: before you begin, you flash a warm smile towards the newly wedded couple, and with that, you begin your speech. You recount a few silly stories and tell fun facts about James Potter as a person, as a friend, and as a lover (that’s not yours). You tell James directly in front of the crowd how lucky he is to have someone like Lily Evans to ground him, and you tell Lily how lucky she is to have someone like James to keep her on her toes, and to love her like never before. You end your speech with a toast, wishing all the best and all the happiness in the world for the newly wedded couple.

And there was no bitter malice behind your words, no biting envy in your tone. Because whilst in the middle of an ironic situation where you’re on the sidelines again—longing for James, and wishing to be Lily—you accept the state of things, and reach a realization with resignation.

Inside of you, there are two parts of a whole.

The one part that will always love James no matter what, and the unforgiving part that will always long for him.

( ♡ )

WHEW! if you made it this far into the oneshot.... congrats. u r so brave for doing just that <3 and i am eternally grateful that you've decided to give this messy work of mine a chance :] plz feel free to leave a comment, like, or reblog and let me know what u think abt this!!!! <3

[oddeyecir-cle]

 ✶ ˖  ࣪  📹 .  ぅ

lee donghyuck enemies to lovers fic ideas (all fics are haechan × reader)

haechan who is your rival coworker + secretly deadpool

for the sake of this story, lets assume deadpool does hide his identity. he works at a tech company and is constantly beefing with his coworker that he's lowkey attracted to. and the plot could maybe be something like you accidentally finding out his identity and then using that information to slightly/ kind of/ in a non-toxic way blackmail him. eg: making him run errands for you, asking to tag along on his quests as deadpool. then the pair gets closer through all the time they spend together etc etc.

✶ note : hyuck HAS to be the sassiest, funniest, most sarcastic, cocky human being ever. also include some spidermark maybe

haechan as the prince of the neighbouring kingdom

historical au. very basic ik but hear me out. your kingdom's glory and power is gradually draining and it's threatened by multiple rivaling kingdoms. that is when your mother, the queen, tells you there is no choice but to turn to hyuck's kingdom for help. you hate the idea but you know everyone's counting on you so you go through with it anyways. (this is historical so there could be a very cool scene of the reader riding on a horse in battle armour to neighbouring kingdom's palace themself but whatever). they're good, kind people so they agree to help you. they send over a part of their military along with some weapons and of course haechan himself, their most prized possession who, like you, is skilled with a sword and is a wise leader. there's lots of quarrels between the both of you when it comes to the topic of which one has more power over the other and about who should be leading the troops. but you soon put your animosity aside when you realize that you have to work as a team to win. (insert dramatic battle sequence with swords and arrows flying around. at one point, you and haechan lock eyes and suddenly he drops to the ground. the world starts to blur around you when you realize he's been stabbed in his back. you frantically rush to his aid but he falls limp in your arms. its now upto the writer to kill him there itself and end the story. very angsty, i love. or they could also save him somehow and give main characters the happy ending they deserve).

 ✶ note : sloooooowwwww buuuurn. i mean this should be a long ass series with 7k+ words per chapter. should be so heavy on the angst and the hate that it makes you wonder if they do actually end up loving each other in the end. please include sword fighting scenes with sexual tension i beg you. (im big on bollywood, can u tell).

haechan as a stranger/ tour guide you meet on a family trip

you've just gotten out of a 3 year long relationship after your boyfriend cheated on you with your best friend. things get worse when your family, unaware of your breakup, forces you on a 2 week trip to *insert destination of choice" . here you meet the annoying, sarcastic, a-little-too-happy-for-his-own-good donghyuck. he is with the group your family is touring with (him being the tour guide is a pretty cute plot too but it could kind of complicate things later) and instantly wins everyone over with his charm, except you of course. in classic hyuck fashion, he tries to keep getting your attention and eventually succeeds. his company helps ease the pain of the heartbreak he didn't even know about. its bittersweet when it's time to part ways. you realise after you come back to your college dorm that you never exchanged phone numbers and you fail to find him on social media as well. but fate has strange ways of bringing people together. which is why you cant stop smiling when crash into a certain someone during a regular grocery run.

✶ note : more on the fluff and less on the angst for this one. and maybe a dash of slice of life as well.

haechan as captain of the football team.

there is no actual plot for this other than the fact that you're a cheerleader and also his academic rival (there is no trope i love more than this). my vision for this is very 2000s romcom. ik this isn't a lot to work with but there could be some sub trope like fake dating mostly.

✶ note: nothing much just make it cute

+i have a few more ideas, will probably make a part 2

++if in the future, by some miracle, people do find these interesting enough to use, please dont forget to credit me!!

[horneybeach1]

Fists of fate

(a/n mattheo riddle x reader, professional boxer au, angst and fluff?)

In the gritty world of professional boxing, Mattheo Riddle was a force to be reckoned with. His raw power, combined with an enigmatic charm, made him an instant favorite among fans. But behind the hardened exterior, there was a vulnerability that few had the chance to witness.

As a talented journalist assigned to cover the boxing scene, you found yourself drawn to the allure of Mattheo's story. His rise through the ranks, his determination, and his complex personality intrigued you. Little did you know that fate had something extraordinary, yet bittersweet, in store for both of you.

One fateful night, you attended a high-profile boxing match where Mattheo was set to face a formidable opponent. The tension in the arena was palpable, the air electric with anticipation. As the bell rang, the two fighters engaged in a battle of strength and skill.

From your vantage point at ringside, you couldn't tear your eyes away from Mattheo. Each punch he threw, each dodge he executed, showcased his undeniable talent. The sweat glistened on his brow, his muscles rippled with every movement. It was an exhilarating sight, and you found yourself captivated by his every action.

But as the fight progressed, an unexpected twist of fate took place. A vicious blow connected with Mattheo's jaw, causing him to stumble. His opponent seized the opportunity and delivered a devastating punch, sending Mattheo crashing to the canvas.

Time seemed to stand still as the referee's count echoed through the arena. Your heart pounded in your chest, dread and worry coursing through your veins. The crowd held its breath, hoping for Mattheo to rise.

With a surge of determination, Mattheo pushed himself up, his eyes glazed with pain and determination. The fight continued, but you could see the toll the injury had taken on him. Each movement was strained, and his once fluid punches lacked their usual power.

As the final bell rang, Mattheo's face was bruised and bloodied. Despite his valiant efforts, the judges' decision didn't favor him that night. Defeat weighed heavily on his shoulders, and the disappointment in his eyes was undeniable.

You rushed to his side as he made his way back to the dressing room, concern etched across your face. Mattheo's breath was ragged, his body weary from the relentless battle. He slumped onto a stool, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"Mattheo," you whispered, your voice filled with empathy. "You fought with everything you had. I'm so proud of you."

His gaze lifted, pain and frustration mingling in his eyes. "It wasn't enough," he muttered, his voice laced with disappointment. "I let everyone down."

You knelt in front of him, your hands resting gently on his bruised knuckles. "No, Mattheo. You never let anyone down. You're a fighter, in and out of the ring. This loss doesn't define you."

Tears welled up in his eyes as he reached out, his trembling hand cupping your cheek. "I wanted to win for you," he admitted, his voice strained. "I wanted to show you that I could be the champion you deserve."

You leaned into his touch, your heart aching with understanding. "Mattheo, you don't have to prove anything to me. You've already shown me the strength of your spirit, the depth of your character."

His tears fell freely now, mixing with the stains of blood on his face. "I love you," he choked out, his voice filled with vulnerability. "But I don't want to hold you back, not when I'm so broken."

Cupping his face in your hands, you looked deep into his eyes. "You're not broken, Mattheo. We all have scars. It's how we overcome them that matters. And together, we can face anything."

In that moment, the weight of the loss faded, replaced by a newfound resolve. You and Mattheo clung to each other, finding solace and strength in each other's embrace. Despite the pain, the journey ahead seemed a little less daunting, for love had a way of healing even the deepest wounds.

With unspoken understanding, you leaned in closer, your lips meeting in a tender, heartfelt kiss. It was a moment of vulnerability and connection, a testament to the bond you shared.

As you pulled away, a sense of calm settled between you, the assurance that you were in this together. Mattheo's eyes locked with yours, and a gentle smile graced his bruised lips. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude.

Taking his hand in yours, you led Mattheo out of the dressing room, the noise of the arena fading into the background. Together, you walked side by side, each step carrying you closer to the solace of home.

In the quiet of the night, you found solace in each other's arms. Mattheo's head rested against your chest as you traced soothing circles on his back, a gentle reminder that you were there for him, now and always.

As the moon cast its ethereal glow through the window, you whispered words of comfort and reassurance. Mattheo's breathing steadied, his body relaxing against yours, a testament to the healing power of love and companionship.

In the warmth of your embrace, the weight of the fight, the pain of defeat, and the uncertainty of the future dissolved into a sense of belonging. Together, you faced the challenges that lay ahead, knowing that with love as your foundation, there was nothing you couldn't overcome.

And so, in the sanctuary of your shared space, you both found solace, strength, and the belief that love could mend even the most battered of souls. The journey continued, but you faced it hand in hand, ready to conquer whatever fate had in store.

[whxre-bxby]

ur def my fav recom writer🥲🥲🥲, no one writes the way u write and ur anons leave the best ideas😫😫😫🤭🤭🤭

Thank you! I'll try to keep it up :)

Recom Mansk x Recom f. Y/N

"A Different Kind Of Warmth"

Masterlist

Summary: Mansk and Y/N survive the final battle on the sinking ship and escape. Both are lost in the forest and as night falls, the cold reaches their skin. To warm up, they huddle for warmth but Mansk has a hard time containing his rising feelings.

WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, death, near-death experience, fluff, breeding kink, penetration, soft/sub Mansk

Word Count: 9426

When I woke up as a recom, I had hope for life. The new body, new attitude and new mission had me thinking we had a chance to win this time. Boy, was I wrong.

The S-79 SeaDragon was going down, slowly becoming submerged by water. The water I was struggling in. I was on the lower deck along with the Colonel and a few other soldiers when all hell broke loose. The recom team was being taken down one by one and soon enough everyone was fending for themselves. I had been knocked into the water by falling heavy equipment and was now holding onto the railing on the side of the huge ship. It was tilted and sinking and I knew it wouldn’t keep me above the surface for long.

I didn’t know where to go or what to do. Climbing back up on deck and looking for Sully was suicide. Drowning sounded better to me than getting an axe to the head or an arrow in my side. 

I didn’t plan on swimming for much longer. Everyone was dead and I didn’t know how to get back to Bridgehead. The feeling of being alone started to drown me more than the water and my heart ached as I tried making a list in my head of who could still be alive. I just saw 3 of us die. Meaning that maybe Lyle was alive. I don’t know where Quaritch is and I haven’t seen Mansk. I know Z-Dog is down, along with Prager. Lopez and Ja died a few hours earlier. 

The rail I was holding was now fully submerged in the ocean’s water and I was standing on it until I couldn’t feel it beneath me anymore. My legs and arms were sore from swimming and I felt myself growing weaker. I was turning around, looking for any available platform I could cling to or land but everything was either sinking or too far away. The SeaDragon was slowly tipping over and its side was coming down over me. I was ready to let the deck just drown me and pull me down but suddenly a huge splash erupted next to me. I gasp, turning around to see what it was and then I recognised an Avatar’s head breaking through the surface and gasping for air. It was Mansk and his wide eyes met my own. 

I sigh in relief, letting my eyes flutter closed for a few seconds as I realise I’m not about to be killed by a Na’vi. 

“Y/N?” he asked breathlessly, fighting to keep his head above water. I frantically nod, swimming over to him a bit. 

“Yeah.” I gasp, coughing some water out of my lungs. He nods, seeming relieved by my presence. At least we weren’t alone. 

“Did you see anyone else?” I ask, searching around us again. Mansk weakly shakes his head ‘no’ and I sigh. He turned around, not seeming as lost as me.

I feel glad that he seemed to have a plan. I was going to just swim in the same spot until I drown but now I had a reason to stay alive. 

He leads the way, swimming away from the ship and I follow, feeling too weak to question where we are going. Or where he was going. I didn’t want to stay behind. 

Mansk seemed to have more strength than me. I had been swimming for almost half an hour so I was struggling to keep up. 

He was faster and I was slightly panicking internally, hoping he wouldn’t leave me behind.

Mansk and I were mutual friends I guess. We knew we were on the same side and that we could rely on each other but I never had a proper conversation with him. He was very distant around people. 

He turned around in the water, noticing you weren’t as close behind as he hoped. His movements in the water stopped proceeding forward as he watched you swim to him, noticing your movements and stamina falter. Mansk’s heart was racing and adrenaline was rushing through his veins from the battle. In the back of his mind, he wondered whether anyone else was alive. Either way, he had you now and he couldn’t let anything happen to either of you. Clearly, you had been struggling for longer than him so he needed to help you get to land. 

Mansk’s arm reached out for mine, pulling me to him and my eyes opened at the contact. Since I last saw him so far from me, my heart dropped at the feeling of being touched and I dreaded it to be something from the ocean. Luckily it was Mansk and he scanned over me with a worried expression. 

I tasted blood in my mouth and felt it coming from my nose. 

I hold on to his vest, coughing again after nearly choking on more salty water. My tired eyes were closing and my legs were no longer able to push me as far as before. 

“Almost there.” he said, stretching his left arm under my arms to keep me stable. 

His voice took me by surprise. He had spoken a few times but I still couldn’t remember what he sounded like because it was so rare. Mansk spoke in a deep tone, sounding hoarse from the fight. 

I nod while gasping for air and he realises he’s running out of time with me. His ears strain back against his head and he tightens his grip around me to not lose me. 

Mansk starts swimming again, pulling me with him while my legs and arms try to boost me forwards and up weakly. 

All my muscles hurt and I couldn’t properly swim anymore. 

Mansk clenched his jaw, not tearing his eyes away from the targeted land he had found. He was going to get you both there alive. His arms started slicing through the water as he pulled you behind him by your vest. He wasn’t going to leave you, he was going to make it there so he used all the strength he had in him to do so. 

I felt like I was going to pass out and suddenly, the arm pulling me through the water let go of me. My body stilled and I soon realised I was sinking down. The noise of the loud crashing waves stilled as water filled my ears and everything went quiet. No more splashing or creaking from the sinking boat. Just a faint ringing in my ears and my heartbeat which I felt pounding in my ears and in the back of my head. I faintly open my eyes, staring up at the water's surface, noticing the small bubbles from my nose push upwards in a squiggly line. It seems so close yet so agonisingly difficult to reach. As if it were teasing my bodies strength, in a cruel test of agility and strength. 

The weighty resistance on my chest prevented me from gasping for air and as I slowly sunk, I felt myself be distanced from life more and more. The life I didn’t actually ask for but the one I was ordered to have. A life in an artificial body of the species I was hunting to kill. 

My already weakened limbs seem to be moving in slow motion as I search for something to hold on to and pull me up, but I’m surrounded by endless amounts of heavy and dark water, threatening to force its way into my body and fill me up until I become one with the ocean. The passing seconds of time seem to strain and stretch into eternity as my need for air makes me dizzy. Once again I felt alone and abandoned. My memories were blurred together and I wasn’t even sure whether I had seen Mansk at all. Perhaps I had been drowning this entire time and was only imagining being saved by him while I drifted in and out of consciousness. Maybe everyone really was dead and I was now the last one to go. 

My chest felt as though it was going to burst and the natural instinct to breathe overpowered my reasonability and I desperately attempted to inhale and draw in air when it was clear there was none. The liquid seeped into my lungs making me feel heavier as I sunk and moved with the waves. The uncomfortable feeling made terror shoot through my weak body as I started to realise that my time was running out. Thinking of death when one is safe doesn’t seem threatening but now I was maybe just minutes away from everything I had ever experienced coming to an end. It was fastly approaching and helplessness spurred me on to struggle and swim to the surface. 

My vision blurs like my thoughts and I notice my state of panic vanish. The light around me fades along with the chaos as I float in an eery haze of calmness and stillness.

Suddenly, my heart seems to reboot out of shock. I hear a muffled yet crashing noise above me and light rays shine down on my luminescent blue skin as the surface of the water breaks. Bubbles break out in the targeted area, hiding the object causing the surface to ripple. Then, a hand pushes through the surface and grabs onto my vest, making me realise I wasn’t that deep in the water. My mouth opens from the habit to gasp and the last remaining large bubbles of oxygen leave my lips. The arm pulls my still body up and within seconds I feel much heavier again. Water is no longer engulfing me and my movements are not as restricted. My legs and arms scrape against a hard rock when suddenly I feel steady ground beneath me. 

Mansk had reached the shore and climbed it so that he could pull me on it after him. He had reached the top of the flat rock and turned around to help me up when he noticed I was no longer there. Panic washed over him as his wide eyes hastily searched the water for my body and he spotted it beneath the waves. Without hesitation, Mansk leaned forwards and hurriedly fished for one of my limbs to be able to help me up. Relief calmed him when he gripped onto me and his arms tugged me away from the edge of the water and next to him on the ground.

I hurled myself forward, quickly scanning my surroundings and faintly realising I was on land and with Mansk. Laying on my belly while my back arched uncomfortably, I desperately coughed up all the heavy water I had taken in. My lungs hurt and my body ached while I propped myself up on my elbows and gasped for air between coughs and chokes. Mansk leaned forwards, also breathing heavily and laid his hand on my back while I struggled to breathe again.

My hands were pressed flat against the wet rock as I regained my senses, trying to calm my breathing. I allowed myself to close my eyes from exhaustion for a few seconds before looking at Mansk. 

“Mansk-” I whimper with red eyes and a trembling voice. 

He saw the fear in my eyes and instantly felt responsible and blameworthy for the situation I was just in. What was just a few seconds or a minute to him seemed like ages to my previously submerged self. 

But I was just grateful to be alive with him. I wanted to somehow express my feelings of appreciation for his help even though it was the bare minimum but my mind was still a mess. Maybe give him a hug or tell him a few heartfelt words but I knew that all that would barely scratch the surface of the depth of my feelings. I had too many emotions surging through me. 

“You okay?” he asked, knowing I could obviously be better. He just wanted to make sure I wasn’t too traumatised or maybe I had a wound he didn’t know about. 

It takes me a few seconds to answer because I just recently wanted to cry for help. In contrast, now I nodded my head slowly. 

“Yeah. Are you?” I ask, stumbling forwards on my knees slightly and leaning against him. 

He catches me by my shoulders and props me up straight while I feel around his torso for wounds. 

The desperation of my actions warms his heart when he realises there could be a chance of me truly caring about him.

“Yeah.” he replies, his voice scruffy. I scan over him to make sure and then nod, leaning back on my feet. Neither of us was okay. We were far from it. But we weren’t dying anymore. And as marines and in the military, you are okay as long as you’re alive and not being held at gunpoint. 

The weight of the situation started to sink in as I turned around on the rock and faced the almost fully sunken ship. Mansk watched it too and it made us both feel uneasy. Our friends that we’ve known for years were on there. Their dead bodies were probably sinking in the water while he sat up here and watched. Almost instantly I felt guilty. There must have been a way I could have helped them but I didn’t and now there was nothing I could do. 

I press down on the call in my throat. “Does anyone copy?” I ask, hoping one of our team members will reply. Mansk presses his own and listens in but the line is dead. No one replies and my heart sinks to my stomach. 

Without me noticing my breaths grew heavy and unsteady again and my nose twitched, providing me with the sign that tears were forming in my eyes. 

Mansk sat a little behind me, letting the harsh reality sink in while I refused to accept it and still searched to see if anyone was swimming or moving. But there was nothing. The action was gone and suddenly, the world felt dystopian and scary. 

Both of us were drenched, sitting in the puddles of water that drained and trickled from our clothes and attire. 

We sit in silence for a while. Both of our minds are too full of thoughts and feelings we need time to reorganise them and come back to our senses. 

I come to the conclusion that we can’t stay here but I also realise we have no way of getting back. The communication pieces on our necks and in our ears were damaged and even if our Ikrans found us we wouldn’t know the way back to Bridghead. 

I slowly turn around to Mansk. He looks like he’s going to be sick. Being abandoned and alone on a foreign planet surrounded by dangerous and unknown creatures is not something the military can prepare a soldier for. We also knew that every Na’vi we encountered from now on would not hesitate to kill us for the destruction and devastation we caused. I didn’t even blame them for it. 

The scene of the sinking SeaDragon showed me how disastrous and fatal our actions were. To me, the fallen soldiers and warriors from both sides are a haunting sight. I can spot a few bodies motionlessly floating in the water or stretched along the wreckage. The cost of war on this planet didn’t seem worth it. From that battle of hell, Mansk and I had survived. But we were not victorious. What I was looking at was not victory. We were defeated survivors, left to fend for ourselves in a world that resented us. 

“What do we do now?” I ask, wondering whether he might have a plan to get us out of here. Mansk’s eyes were unfocused, emotionlessly staring at the wreck in the ocean but my voice drew him from his thoughts and back to reality. He stared at me, opening his mouth in an attempt to say something before closing it again. 

He didn’t know. Both of us were helpless. But what was clear was that we couldn’t stay here, drenched in clothes that symbolised our side of the war. 

The eclipse was almost over and the sky grew darker. 

“Come.” he said and I watched him get up before forcing myself off the ground with the remaining strength I had. Yep, he wasn’t much of a talker.

But I could trust him and I knew he was thinking like me. We needed shelter to survive the night and freezing on a wet rock is not the way to do it. So we headed to the forest. This was common sense, especially for Marines. 

Mansk walked slightly ahead of me while I limped after him. Our guns were useless and gone so we were left with only our daggers. I had a knife and Mansk had one of Lyle’s machetes. 

We left the coast behind, warily walking into the deadly forest which still haunted us from experiences in both our lives. 

The light of day had now vanished, and the trees further dimmed our surroundings. But our new bodies enabled us to see clearly in the dark. 

I was moving forward with a hand on my hip in pain while my head was dropped and my eyes weak. It was only then that I started to notice the grass become luminous beneath my feet. 

My ears perked forwards and I looked around, noticing the colour and the light of the forests of Pandora at night. The beauty of it entranced me, making me forget the hate we were told we should have for this world. Despite its dangers, the forest was magical and it lured us deeper in. Oddly, I felt connected to it in some way. Forgetting the harm I had just caused, I felt drawn to the trees. Perhaps my body was trying to persuade my mind to switch sides again. It happened before. This blue Avatar wanted me to naturalise here but my willpower was stronger. 

My eyes shoot up and I scan over Mansk. He seems inattentive to the surrounding lights and colours. Sometimes, I feel like he sees the world in black and white because he never sympathises with things. No matter what beautiful sight of Pandora you would show him, Mansk would not fall into its trap. Not that he was fighting his will, he just genuinely disliked this planet. 

Mansk was walking at my speed so that I wouldn’t fall behind and his arms smoothly swung as he held the machete. He had used it to cut the path free from plants but now the large leaves had vanished. I noticed how tense he looked. His ears were tipped back but his tail was still. He lost his shades because they weren’t on his head as usual. My eyes drifted over him while I completely spaced out from reality. The long-sleeved uniform he wore suited him. It would be unlike Mansk to walk around in a tank top or something similar to Quaritch’s attire. I never understood why but I didn’t question it. At least he wasn’t as oddly self-obsessed as many others. His vest emphasized his broad torso which evidently slimmed down at his waist and the cloth around his arms strained a little through the muscle. Mansk was lean and I found myself admiring him which I had done once or twice before. It embarrassed me to think of him like this because I wanted to be professional but then I would remind myself that our team really wasn’t professional. Sure, around people ranking higher than us yes. The Colonel too, but between us many acted like teenagers. Not just Lyle.

My eyes mindlessly continue to stare at him and he seems to feel them, turning around and glancing at me. Our eyes lock and suddenly I don’t know what to do so I quickly avert my gaze back to the ground before letting it flicker to the many plants. He keeps his eyes on me for a few more seconds, examining me himself before turning back to the front. My heartbeat picked up its pace even though he showed me no emotion and my thoughts were scattered. That’s why I was once again not paying attention and I bumped into him as he stopped. 

Mansk glanced over his shoulder and his ears perked as he watched you recover from thumping into him before looking away again. He smiled to himself. Not a big smile, just the corners of his mouth lifted in slight amusement and his tail flicked. But he wouldn’t let you see, so he quickly hid his emotions with his neutral and unbothered expression.

I rubbed my forehead and my ears drooped in embarrassment. Mansk hadn’t even been nudged forward through my actions, it felt like hitting a brick wall. 

“How ‘bout there?” he asked and instantly my attention devoted itself to him and his voice. My ears twitch forward and I step out from behind him to let my eyes follow where he is looking. It’s a larger tree and it looked dead. Perhaps it had been hit by lightning at some point but what was attractive to us was the fact that it had fallen over halfway onto another tree creating a type of shelter. I looked around, noticing there was a grass patch surrounding it and we could stand beneath the fallen trunk in the case of rain. 

While you’re scanning the place, Mansk’s eyes are fixed on you. His ears finally let loose from being flattened back and move forward slightly as he eyes your facial features, taking note of your luminescent patterns, your nervously twitching ears and nose. His stern gaze softens for the first time in a few hours. You had been walking for a while and he only let his mask of steel falter and slip up when you were battling the water. 

The way your eyes sparkled in the lights of the night had him unable to take his eyes off of you for a few extra seconds. 

I turned to look up at him and he almost flinched away. His ears immediately pinned back and his tail froze. His retreating actions startled me and I waited a few seconds before answering. 

“Let’s check it out.” I say softly, choosing to lead the way for a change. 

Mansk watches me start to walk to the tree. He lets his hands rest on his waist as he drops and shakes his head lightly before following me. 

He should feel endangered and worried but somehow you’re presence distracted him from the horrors you both had just witnessed and you were all he could think about.

I walk beneath the tree, running my hand over the dried-up bark. It was stable and the ground felt soft to my bare feet. 

Mansk reaches me, turning around and scanning over the place. I stand still for a few moments in thought before a shiver runs over me and I notice I’m hugging myself for warmth. 

We were still wearing our drenched clothes and they were keeping our skin moist and cold and had our clothes stick to it. 

Mansk turns around to me and I nod a few times in approval of the place before starting to unstrap my vest. The water made it feel heavier.

He felt cold too and noticed what I was doing so he followed. A strap was stuck because the plastic was busted so I cut a part of it open, discarding the useless material on the ground. My tank top followed, which I had to peel from my skin because it was still soaked. I pulled it over my head and started wrenching and twisting the water out of the cloth and onto the ground. 

Mansk slightly turned away from me and was doing the same with his coat.

My legs were freezing so I started opening my belt. I then moved against the side of the tree and sat down so I could strip the cold pants off. I sighed, rubbing my forehead again out of exhaustion before throwing them onto my pile of clothes. 

I sat cross-legged on the grass in my underwear. Luckily it wasn’t too revealing. The sports bra could count as a top and my underwear was the length of tight shorts. 

Mansk had taken his top clothes off, holding them in his hand and he kept his cammies on. He turned to you and noticed your bare skin but he turned his head away not wanting you to feel uncomfortable. He also wanted to stay focused on somehow getting back to Bridgehead and looking at you would not help him concentrate. 

He sat down next to me but kept his distance. Mansk seemed unsure of the situation. He’d never been in this position before. 

I glanced at him, also quickly tearing my eyes away in case he would notice me staring again. My hands were around my braid which carried water in the hair and I was trying to squeeze it out. 

We sat in comfortable silence and I winced, letting out a squeak of pain when I twisted my queue too harshly. 

Mansk’s eyes flickered to me at the noise and he watched what I was doing. We were still getting used to the body and I’ve never had to drain water from my Kuru cord yet. 

The RDA told us we didn’t have to shower because Na’vi don’t sweat the same way humans do. 

I look at him and this time he doesn’t cower away. Mansk kept his pants on and his cord wet. The perfect way of getting sick. The water from his queue was drizzling down his bare torso. 

I start opening my braid, carefully untangling the hair so that I could squeeze the water out of it without hurting myself. Mansk is still subtly watching me. 

“You should do it too. Otherwise, it’ll hurt you tomorrow.” I say, glancing back at him. Mansk ears perk forward at my words and he stays still for a few moments before looking at the braid resting over his shoulder. Using words to answer was rarely deemed necessary for him. 

He slowly mirrors my movements and unsurely removes the hair tie before opening the braid. Our hair was thick and I knew it felt odd for him because he was used to having his hair buzzed short his entire life. His hands clumsily untangle the Kuru from our hair and I can tell it’s the first time he’s doing something like this. Mansk looks over at me to see how I’m drying mine, his lost and confused eyes trying to find answers. 

I smile to myself, only opening it halfway because the water had seeped to the lower strands of hair and was dry on my scalp. 

Once I was done, I leaned back against the bark, slumping my shoulders while re-braiding my hair around my queue. It took me a while to figure out how to keep it in the centre of the strands but eventually, it worked. When I finished I glanced over at Mansk who had almost opened his entire braid and had his fingers tangled in hair. 

He was helpless. 

“You need help?” I ask, biting my lip to suppress giggles. He glances at me in defeat and looks embarrassed that he can’t get it back together. 

“Yeah.” He softly replies, removing his hands from his hair. I walk over to him on my knees and sit behind him. 

“I don’t know how to braid.” He mumbles, sitting with his knees bent and torso leaned forward. 

I run my fingers through the hair to straighten them out before separating them into three strands. 

“I can teach you if you’d like.” I say, tilting my head to the side to look at him in case he decides to turn around and glance at me but Mansk stays still. 

“Nah, it’s fine.” he replies, his voice quiet but still gravelly. My ears droop as my hope dies down. He should learn how to do it because he’ll be stuck with his queue until he dies. But I’m not going to push him. 

My fingers start braiding away, gently holding his cord in place as I try my best to cover it with hair from all sides. Whenever I brush my fingers against the Kuru, I glance at him to make sure he’s all right and he is. Mansk looks unfazed to me.

You couldn’t see over his back. Mansk had his fists tightly closed and his body was tense. You two had never been so close before. He hadn’t been like this with anyone and he never planned on it but with the situation you two were in, Mansk had to push himself a little. He would never let anyone braid his hair. The idea seemed stupid and pathetic to him but weirdly, he trusted you enough to do it right and not mock him for not knowing how to. But you touching him like that had its downsides. Mansk forced himself to suppress shivers every time your fingers held his queue or grazed his back. He was nervous and the feeling felt almost threatening to him because Mansk never felt that way. 

Another cold shiver ran through my body and I tried curling myself up into a ball while finishing his braid. My tail was wrapped around my waist and my fingers were trembling. 

Mansk must have felt it and he looked over his shoulder. 

“Sorry,” I say, trying to suppress the frigid chills washing over me. “ It’s cold as fuck.” I add with a breathy laugh, trying to lighten the mood. 

I knew he was quiet but I never had to deal with it one on one because we were always with the team. His silence had my thoughts running wild and I had to fight myself to not keep trying to fill it. 

Mansk gives me the faintest nod and faces forwards again and I want to face-palm myself. For a few seconds, I wondered whether that was all the reply I would get from him. 

“Are your clothes dry?” he then asks and my drooped ears twitch forwards and my eyes brighten. 

“No. Still wet.” I say, looking over at my pile before returning my focus to his hair and tying the end with the hair tie. 

“Here, it’s done.” My hands lift his braid and I place it over his shoulder so that he can see. 

Mansk examines it with interested eyes. “Thanks.” He quietly replies and I nod, sitting back down against the tree. This time I was slightly close to him. 

I pull in my legs, hugging my knees and curling my trembling tail around me before resting my chin on my legs. Perhaps we could make a fire but I was too exhausted to go and look for firewood and attempt to start it. I knew Mansk was too. 

Mansk leaned back against the bark now too and the corners of his eyes caught the movement of your shivering frame, directing his attention back to you. Not that it ever left. Mansk wished he could give you his coat if it were dry but it wasn’t. He’d also much rather be wearing more himself. 

I was brought back to the dreadful images of the shipwreck as the silence faded the reality around me. While my arms clutched my legs tightly I slowly rocked back and forth to try and keep me a little warmer. It also helped me calm down. My eyes were unfocused and I was staring in front of me with wide and blank eyes. I was so absentminded that I hadn’t noticed Mansk’s movements. 

I felt something on my back and flinched in shock. Mansk quickly drew back his hand and looked at my confused expression. 

I sighed and dropped my head down, feeling relieved that I was here and not in the water. 

He had moved closer to me and we were seated right next to one another now. I tried calming my breathing again when Mansk repeatedly gently placed his hand on my back. He could tell I was having a hard time digesting what happened today so I guess this was his way of comforting me. I didn’t mind it. In fact, I pushed into the feeling of the palm of his hand. It was warm against my skin and I felt him radiate body heat against me. 

I look up at him and give him a soft smile and he returns it for once before looking down at his legs. 

His hand really did comfort me and I was forcing myself to stay seated upright and not just fall into him. 

My eyes were fluttering closed because I felt tired but I couldn’t get anywhere near sleeping when I was this cold. They shot open when Mansk’s shivered and I felt his hand twitch. There was no doubt about it. We were both cold. 

My head once again lifts and I look at him and his posture, wondering whether I can just lean into him. He lifts his head from having it leaned back against the tree and our eyes meet.

“Is it okay if I lean against you?” I ask with half-lidded eyes. I felt tired and I didn’t mind asking anymore. If he says no I’ll just tip to the other side and try to sleep.

Mansk seemed surprised by my words but I had a feeling he was thinking of the same thing. It was chilly and we could stay warm if we shared our body heat. I couldn’t feel my warmth but he could and vice versa. 

His perked ears of interest now leaned back as he attempted to answer.

“Uh-” Mansk swallowed nervously as I stared up at him.  “Yeah, sure.” He said, internally cursing himself for stuttering. 

I smile and scoot a little closer. Mansk lifts his arm up as I move under it and then I just lean my upper body into his, lying against his side. My body relaxes with the feeling of his warmth and I hum in appreciation. 

He stays still for a few seconds, not daring to even breathe. Then he slowly lowers his arm and unsurely rests it around my shoulder. 

My head is resting against the side of his chest and I discover how comfortable Mansk feels. 

I push my legs a little closer to his frame all while he watches from above and my arm loosely drapes around his middle. 

Yep, that’ll do. If we’re still stuck here tomorrow night then Mansk will become my regular bed. 

He slowly eases himself against me, trying to relax his tense body. The skin-to-skin contact was something he hadn’t felt in ages and it was electrifying to him. Mansk would never give nor receive physical affection. The most he would do with his friends were handshakes and knuckle bumps or a pat on the back. He hadn’t given anyone a hug in years so to receive something like this had his heartbeat racing and Mansk prayed you wouldn’t feel it. 

The tip of his tail was wagging and lightly thumping against the ground so Mansk rested his free hand on it to stop the movements. He didn’t want you to know about what a nervous wreck he had become since you both sat down.

My eyes were growing heavy but then I noticed something new. Mansk’s scent or more like his musk seemed to grow stronger. I wondered whether I was inhaling too deeply but I wasn’t. My eyes close again as I decide to brush it off. My head nudges his side as I move it to my comfort and now my ear is flatly pressed against his skin. Within seconds I can hear thumping and it doesn’t take me long to realise it’s his heartbeat and it’s fast.

I’m wide awake again, wondering about what was happening to him. Maybe he was afraid and was remembering the sinking ship, or he was in a painful position but didn’t want to wake me? Perhaps he felt sick. 

I slowly lift myself up, rubbing an eye before looking up at him. 

Mansk’s ears are drooped to the side and his eyes are wide as he watches your movements, dreading to hear you ask him why he’s so tense. When you look up at him his heart stops beating in fear and he freezes. 

“Are you okay?” I ask but he refuses to meet my eyes or answer. 

My head drops forward and I rub my other eye while thinking about what to do because he was silent.

“If it’s uncomfortable then I can move back and you- can…” I say, opening my eyes before I stop mid-sentence. While rubbing the sleep from them, my head was coincidentally pointed to his abdomen and as I opened my eyes, they were met with the least expected sight. 

I shut up and my lips are slightly parted in surprise as I just stare down at his pants with wide eyes. His cammies are strained in his crotch area and I can see that Mansk has an erection. 

To his horror, he can see that you’ve noticed what he’s been trying to hide and suppress. Everything seemed to be coming crashing down on him and he wished he could sink into the ground in shame. 

You two worked together, he didn’t want you to think of him as some pervert. He also really didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

While Mansk was cursing and hating himself I just kept staring. It took me longer than it should have to figure out that he got so worked up because of how close I was to him. 

“You could have just told me, you know?” I say, grinning up at him and Mansk is torn out of his destructive thoughts by the sound of my voice. 

Once again he is speechless. He was expecting to be insulted or scolded by you. Not that he could picture you doing that, he oddly couldn’t. But a positive reaction wasn’t even on his radar of possible outcomes. 

I fully turn around to face him. He’s staring at me with wide eyes while I drink in his flushed face of embarrassment and bare torso.

“You need some help with that?” I ask, tilting my head in a playful way so that he would get the memo. 

He was starstruck in utter disbelief. 

“What?” he asked, his voice sounding even more hoarse but this time it trembled.  He was too stunned to regret sounding nervous. 

“I need to know. Yes or no? I don’t want to cross your boundaries but I can help you out.” I say, wanting to make it clear that I’m fine with this. 

He can’t answer, his voice seems unreachable to him. 

I decide to rid him of any doubtful questions in his head so I lean forward and trace the tattoo on his chest, making him shiver. 

“Mansk. Do you want me?” I say, keeping my teasing grin. Who would have known that a big and serious man like him could fall apart so easily? 

His mouth is lightly hanging open and he doesn’t even think his answer through because he feels too drawn to you and the moment you two are having. Mansk slightly nods his head even though a voice in the back of his head still has him secretly fearing you would suddenly walk away. 

“Use your words.” I whisper, leaning in a little closer and he couldn’t care less about being told what to do. 

“I want you.” he answers in a raspy voice and I notice how dilated with lust his pupils have become. 

Mansk never takes orders from anyone but his superiors. Meaning he’d follow Quaritch and often Lyle, but rarely would he listen to others. Not because he was rude but because he didn’t like being told what to do by people who weren’t qualified to give orders. 

My sneaky smile turns into a grin again and I shift forwards, moving my legs over his own so that I was straddling his lap. Mansk moved his arms out of the way, still watching me in disbelief. To further enlighten his burdening thoughts, I reach to his neck and gently tug at his dog tag while moving my face close to his. 

I watch him and his eyes keep flickering between mine before they fixate on my lips. Our warm breaths are fanning against the other and our noses brush. I want him to initiate the kiss to make sure I’m not taking advantage of his desperate state. My free hand rests on his chest, stroking over his pec and feeling up his bare skin. 

Mansk can’t take it anymore and he fills the gap between both your lips by leaning forward and catching your mouth with his. 

My heart seems to skip a beat in excitement and I immediately kiss him back, melting against his touch. My hands are all over his torso and soon I notice how he keeps his at his sides. 

He was relishing in the feeling of having you so close to him. A big part of him needed this for a long time. Now the void in him was finally being filled and Mansk was afraid of doing something wrong so he didn’t touch you until you would tell him to.

I pull away, keeping one of my hands on his cheek as I smile in adoration. He was cute like this. His cheeks were burning up while his big eyes watched me attentively. My eyes search for his hands and I pick one up, guiding it to my waist. Mansk supports my movements, gripping and feelings my waist and hips in a way that told me he greatly needed this. 

“This is one way of keeping us warm.” I tease while his hands feel up my barely covered body. 

His eyes shoot up to me and he looks down with a small smile when he notices I’m teasing him. 

I decide to speed things up because my back is cold and I’m looking forward to the warm aftercare just as much as the actual sex. I lean back, sitting down on his groin which makes him shakily exhale. My hands then attach to the moist cloth of my sports bra and I pull it over my head. 

Mansk looks awestruck as his hazy eyes admire my chest.

“Touch me.” I whisper and in the next second, Mansk is cupping and massaging my breast. I sigh in soft pleasure, tilting my body so that my chest is pushed further out for him. 

Mansk wants to feel me closer so he wraps his arms around my waist and gently pulls me into his chest. I wrap my arms around his neck while he buries his face in my one, pressing his nose against the side of my throat and deeply inhaling my scent. 

I start feeling needy so I slowly roll my hips forward, grinding down on him. My actions make Mansk draw in a sharp breath and I feel his grip on me tighten. 

I continue and am able to feel all of him pressing against me. His dick twitches in his pants and I gasp when my clothed clit brushes against the side of him. 

Mansk’s ears are trained on me and longingly listen to every noise I make. 

I no longer want clothes to separate our bodies so I quickly press a kiss to his cheek before climbing off him on his other side. Mansk seems dazed and belatedly follows my movements. 

“Take them off.” I groan, lifting my hips off the ground to remove my panties. He doesn’t need to be told twice and his hands work on unbuckling his belt. Hurriedly he opens his army pants and tugs them down his thighs. 

I’ve ripped my panties off of me and thrown them somewhere behind me and now helped Mansk rid himself of his pants and underwear. 

Once he kicks them off his feet Mansk realises I’m completely naked and his movements slow. He seems to daze off again into his thoughts which amuses me. I press my hand against his deliciously warm chest and push his torso back against the bark of the tree before straddling his waist again. 

“You’re so beautiful…” Mansk mumbles and my eyes shoot up to him in surprise. I haven’t received a compliment in a long time and I could tell he meant it even though I wasn’t sure he knew he said it aloud. 

“Says you, pretty boy.” I giggle and his eyes widen at the pet name. A blush clouds his warm cheeks again and I smile. 

Mansk never thought he looked bad but he never found anything about him that he thought was really good-looking. Sure he was built but so was everyone else. That tattoo was meant to give him some uniqueness but he was often unsure of it. He just felt too regular and therefore any compliments about his appearance had his heart fluttering. 

I glance down between us and my eyes widen once again. I was expecting something normal sized but Mansk was much bigger than expected. Perhaps it was a common Na’vi trait but I doubted that. 

“Holy fuck-” I whisper under my breath, slowly tracing my fingers down his abs and to his v-line before stopping close to his crotch. Mansk hears my reaction and he can tell by the way I bite my lip that I’m happy with him. He feels more confident with what he’s doing now. 

I lift my hand and wrap it around the middle of his shaft to test the waters. Mansk shudders at the contact, inhaling deeply to ready himself for what is to come. 

Everything about him is such a turn-on to me I can’t stop looking at him. My hand starts to gently stroke him and I glance up to see that his eyes have fluttered closed. One of his hands was loosely holding my hip while the other was pressed together in a tight fist against the ground. 

His reactions make me crave more from him so I tighten my fingers around him, tugging at his dick before I stop at his tip and glide my thumb over the slit that’s leaking beads of pre-cum. 

He presses his lips together tightly and his ears flicker back in pleasure. It must feel good even though I’m working on him dry. This makes me realise I can just move to the next stage because I’m craving him badly too. 

I stop my movements, giving Mansk the chance to take a breather and recover. My legs lift me a little higher and I place my palm against the side of his dropped head. 

“Ready?” I ask, looking at him for approval. Mansk lazily nods his head, gently tugging my waist forward to steady us both. 

“Yeah-” he breathes out and I nod back. 

My hand slowly guides the tip of his dick to my burning and sensitive entrance, mixing his pre-cum with the heat that has leaked out of me. It seems the new bodies of ours are far more responsive to erotic feelings than human bodies.

Mansk holds his breath again, watching with lust-drunk eyes. I line him up with my hole and slowly sink down on him. His lips part as he feels himself become engulfed by warmth and slick squeezing him from all sides. A soft groan is elicited from his mouth, encouraging me to continue pushing myself down him. 

I gasp as he starts to fill me and once I bottom out I place both my hands on his chest to steady myself. My breathing is heavy while his is ragged. 

“Fuck-” he mutters under his breath. 

I decide to be a little mean and tease him just a tiny bit more.

“I’m warm now, we can stay like this.” I say, playing it off innocently. 

Mansk would generally never complain about that but at this moment in time, his body craved you so badly he needed you to move and help him find a release. He looked up at me and seemed alarmed that I wouldn’t help him out of his state so he naturally tightened his grip on my hips. 

I smirk at him, leaning my head back in amusement at his panicked reaction. Mansk can’t do anything but watch me with a pleading look. 

“Tell me what you want, baby. Then I can give it to you.” 

My words make him shiver and for once it’s not due to the cold. 

“Please move…” he whines, looking at me with desperate eyes. 

“Good boy.” I coo, rubbing my thumb against his cheek and he seems surprised by my praise but it makes him feel better. 

He wasn’t used to being a bottom but right now he wanted nothing more but for you to take care of him. 

I start to gently rock my hips back and forth making Mansk gulp as he restrains himself from digging his fingers into my skin. His abs tense and his biceps flex as he starts to finally feel pleasure softly rid him of the feeling of being painfully hard. 

I notice how even through his tension, Mansk slowly melts and relaxes against my touch. It encourages me to lean forward and I lightly wrap my hand around his throat. 

His hazy eyes reflecting his pussy-drunk state find mine and we stare at each other while I continue my movements. I notice how Mansk’s eyes have become glossy. He must feel overwhelmed by bliss.

“You’re being so good for me.” I whisper before kissing him passionately. While I do this I pick up the pace a little and Mansk whimpers into my mouth due to the pleasure and the praise. My ears shoot forward and the noise makes me moan against him. The way I gently pressed his neck from the sides seemed to feed his lust. 

Perhaps Mansk was so used to being stronger than me and more in charge that he just needed to once have the roles reversed and have someone take care of him. 

He would often tell me what to do and how to do things so switching the positions had us both excited. 

I start to lift myself off him every time I rocked forward and let myself glide back down when I rolled my hips back. 

This seemed to really do it for Mansk.

“Feels so good-” he whines, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. Without thinking, his grip on me tightens and he starts supporting my movements by pulling and pushing my hips up and down to my rhythm.

Soon enough, Mansk starts to buck his hips up into me to meet my movements and I moan his name which drives him wild.

“Shit- that’s it. Don’t stop.” I say with a hitched breath and gasping voice and he nods, never dreaming of stopping. His eyebrows are furrowed together and his eyes are fixed on where you two are connected, intently watching how all of him disappears in you with each of your harsh thrusts. 

Mansk and I were now almost panting and our once-cold skin was now glistening with tiny beads of sweat. 

“Y/N- “ he breathes through clenched teeth and his words wake me from my pleasured hypnosis. “I’m gonna cum.” 

His voice sounds strained and I nod. “Me too,” I whisper, tightly gripping his shoulders. “Cum inside me.” 

His wide-blown eyes meet mine to make sure I said what he heard. 

“Please.” I add, begging him to fulfil my request. 

He confirmed it in his head his dick twitched inside me.

“Fuck-” he whimpers, “ ‘M gonna fill you up.” 

I nod desperately, digging my nails into the back of his strong shoulders. I was close to cumming as well. 

I knew I couldn’t get pregnant if our queues weren’t bound together so we were fine. And quite frankly, I wanted to feel him deep inside me. 

One of my hands moves between my legs and I start rubbing lazy circles on my clit to help me reach my high. Mansk watches, completely entranced by my movements. 

Never would he have thought that seeing another person pleasure themselves would turn him on so much. And because it was you in front of him, it’s what pushed him over the edge. 

I felt him tense and once I felt the first spurt of cum shoot inside me I was thrown into a state of pure bliss. My walls clenched around Mansk and it made his hips stutter and jolt forward in pleasure. 

He pulled me into him again, burying his head in the crook of my neck while he helped me ride out our orgasms. I cried out his name while he groaned out mine and my hips desperately bucked into his thrusts in frantic attempts to prolong and drag out our highs. 

After a minute we both simultaneously calmed down and our movements stilled. I sunk back down on him, fully seated on his lap while our heaving chests were pressed together. 

My hands wrapped around his neck loosely while I pressed the side of my face against him. He really was warm now. Mansk tightened his arms around my waist and was now hugging me, making me melt against him. 

“Thank you…” he whispered against my skin and I smiled tiredly against his. 

“Don’t. I wanted it just as much as you.” I reply, pulling back from him so that we could look at each other. Mansk gives me a soft smile and I press our foreheads together. My fingers trace around his chest before I start to admire the luminescent speckles on his skin and on his face. 

“You’re so pretty…” I mumble in adoration, stroking his head and running my hand through his short hair. His gaze softens even more and he kisses my cheek, trying to feel me as close to him as possible. 

“Then that makes you a fuckin’ angel…” he replies and his answer makes me laugh. He pulls me into him further, making our warm skin press together everywhere possible. “So soft.” he mumbles, rubbing his cheek against my shoulder. 

I snuggle against him and we stay still for a few minutes, just warming up and calming down in each other's embrace before my yawn reminds us of how late it probably is. 

Mansk doesn’t want to let go yet so he leans off the tree behind him and lays down into the soft grass. I lay on his chest and we don’t move. He doesn’t pull out but I don’t mind. It feels oddly comforting and warm. 

“Can we stay like this?” he asks, not wanting to hold you against your will. 

“Yes please.” I whisper tiredly, stretching my legs before loosely draping them on either of his sides. 

Our breathing is calm now and my head is resting on his chest while his arms are resting on my back, snaked around my waist.

“Can you teach me how to braid?” Mansk suddenly asks, seeming to still be in deep thought while I was slowly drifting off to sleep. 

A big smile spreads along my face as I look up at him and rest my chin on his chest. 

“Sure, we can do that tomorrow. While we wait for the search team to find us.” I whisper and he nods, gently rubbing calming circles onto my back. 

Both of us needed this. The release, the warmth and the comfort. Especially after what happened today. As recom’s, we struggled to find comfort in ourselves so having someone else was exactly what we needed. 

My body seemed to suddenly be filled with a different kind of warmth. One that he gave my heart.

Suddenly, the forest didn’t feel threatening anymore and the noises, the lights, and the fresh air felt homely. 

Whether they would wake up the next day was a mystery they could only wait to find out about. But it didn’t matter to them because they were together. Perhaps they were the last of their kind.

And just like that, the two living impostrous and artificial replicas of the Na’vi fell asleep together beneath the shining stars and gently rattling leaves, of a world that wanted them dead and gone.

Tag List: @number1gal @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @ikranwings @numarusworld @jatwow

[valentine-writes]

for you!

「 tws + notes: no tws, fluff, not edited, kinda ooc my bad,, im learnin,,, 」

↳ ft. gwen stacy, hobie brown/spider-punk, miguel o'hara/spider-man 2099, miles morales, and pavitr prabhakar

「 gn! reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

author's note: obvi strictly platonic for miles, pav, + gwen but like. anyways!! just practicing writing for them becuz otherwise they will be So OOC for everyone's reqz and i literally would die. highkey struggled a bit but i'm tryin y'all!!! ("trying" but this is unedited ASF) ...eveyone look away from my obvious bias for gwen i heart her. i wanna,, also write for more characters eventually,, sooo,, hc reqs,,, hehehe :3 no full ficz,,, yet-

GWEN STACY headcanons:

▸ she doesn't do friends. not really anymore. oh but like. aside from miles, ur also an exception.

your friendship just kinda. happened?? it was a slow process but eventually y'all got close

▸ you supported her in her band endeavours! u know how knives chau rocks the homemade sex bob-omb merch in scott pilgrim vs the world (sorry 4 being a scott pilgrim fan and referencing it. im battling DEMONS.) THATZ U. biggest supporter for realz!! and she appreciates it so so much :,(

▸ she tries to hold u at arms length initially but ends up missing u too much when ur not around :( you've gotten really close to her over time– something neither of you had expected. but having a friend is refreshing for her. she's secretly always just a little anxious about losing you.

one time, in the middle of your developing friendship, she just kinda... dipped. left you on seen, didn't return your calls– you hadn't seen her in a while. but she came back, apologized profusely (through a lot of stumbled sentences and awkward rambles), and then swore never to do it again. you were... conflicted. so you asked her if anything was wrong and she mustered the courage to be vulnerable with you.

you are probably one of the first people in a long time that she'd actually been able to open up to.

▸ sleepovers where u jus stay up and watch slasher films. idk man i just feel this one in my heart. even if ur not particularly fond of horror, gwen is cool abt it if u need to cover ur eyes or hide under a blanket. y'all are practically screaming at the screen whenever the protagonist makes a dumb choice, acting like the characters can actually hear u

"if you go into that FUCKING BASEMENT I SWEAR–"

"nah– she's doing it. watch. WATCH."

"I CANT"

HOBIE BROWN headcanons:

▸ u are NOT calling this guy hobart. the first time u ever called him that Everyone Else was thrown off. like. no. we gonna stick w/ hobie for this one.

you, however, had the funny little idea of shortening his nickname even further. now sometimes– just on occasion– it's bee.

naturally, he's too cool to care abt what he's called, so he doesn't seem to have too many feelings about your overly cutesy nickname for him.

▸ you know any instruments? great. jam sessions with him. you don't? he'll teach you to play guitar. few ppl are given permission to touch His Guitar... but he can afford to make exceptions.

as he's teaching you, his chest collides against ur back a couple times, his hands guiding yours. he'll gently guide your fingers on the fretboard and yeah it's like– maybe not the most efficient way to learn. but whatever. he's pretty good with helping you figure it out.

▸ if you express wanting a piercing, tattoo or wanting to change up your hair (dying it, cutting it, whatever–) he's immediately gonna be like. "yea? ok. bathroom. right now." he'll help you out. king of diy truly.

and hey, the piercings never get infected, the stick and pokes turn out fine, the haircuts never look that bad, and the hair dye doesn't turn out awful so like. win???

supports you in your impulsive choices– piercings can close, diy tattoos fade, hair can grow– but the joy of self expression iz 4eva!!!!

▸ he lets you steal clothes from him. totally will point it out, but won't be all that bothered by it. HE'S GONNA BE TAKING FROM UR CLOSET TOO you practically share a wardrobe at this point. the others slowly become unable to differentiate which clothes you and hobie own individually. even if your wardrobes are completely different– trust he will find a way to keep a small piece of you with him

MIGUEL O'HARA headcanons:

▸ this man is emotionally distant asf. how did you achieve this relationship with him. answer: no clue!!! (｡･･｡) now that ur tight w/ him i am begging you. for the sake of the multiverse. get this man a therapy consultation RIGHT NEOWWW..... they literally have therapy services available in the spider society hq. if you dont HAUL HIS ASS OVER THERE–

▸ it's really no secret miguel has a soft spot for you. though he is very adamant about the fact that he doesn't– most people know that he's a little less grumpy with you around.

you seem to be one of the only people who can actually make him smile. which is. crazy. the first time he ever laughed at a joke you made you just kinda froze and stared at him, wondering if you had just vividly hallucinated miguel being happy. it was a light chuckle, where he kinda,, put his hand over his mouth and looked away. but it was SHOCKINGGG

▸ if you managed to get along with miguel, you're probably also besties with lyla. miguel however does not enjoy this. mainly because you two gang up on him. a lot. aka whenever ur arguing about anything w/ miguel, lyla is more likely to take your side. for funzies!!! she calls you her favourite– and it's like. man. are you getting along with miguel just for his little hologram assistant? i would but im gon shut my mouth on this one

it's funny how easily u two get along. she has officially attached all his bank info to ur online shopping accs and gaming shit. go wild. he'll never know (he finds out.. eventually.)

▸ it's actually really weird how you affect him. and everyone's noticing. he's constantly overworking himself to preserve the safety of the multiverse and when he's not, he's reminiscing on the past- but you give him something that he hasn't had in a while- an actual break. you pull him away from his responsibilities, from the screens he gazes into for so long, and for once he can relax. even if it's just for a minute

MILES MORALES headcanons:

▸ i saw hcs of a friendship w/ miles like gumball and darwin and i literally cannot get it out of my head. y'all r tight like that!!!! itz canon now. considering miles doesn't have a lotta friends (in his universe, at least) he's glad to have you!!! you're probably one of the people he hangs around the most. if you're somewhere, miles is probably somewhere around you too. and if he is not? he's probably just late. spiderman-ing around nyc probably

▸ his parents have really grown to like you too!!! let's assume u dont pull a gwen and address them by their first names. (i love her so much no shade at all but PLEADYUWEGFEHF that was So White of her) miles always has you over to hang out– which usually means you're invited to have dinner with them. his mom especially is always makin sure ur feeling at home and u got enough on ur plate (she is so sweet i adore her)

miles is constantly hearing: "when are they coming over again? you haven't had them over in a while-" rio hearts u. (and i heart rio.)

▸ STREET ART WITH MILES STREET ART WITH MILES– he def taught u what he learned from his uncle aaron. eventually u found a place you two can spray paint 2gether and u go w/ him whenever u need to destress a bit ^_^ it doesn't matter what ur skill level is in art, he's happy to teach you! sometimes, for practice, he'll even draw you!!! and though he hasn't shown you yet,,, he's been comfortable enough w/ you to leave his sketchbook open when you're around

▸ ALSO!! your hangouts probably have a killer soundtrack. u share a collaborative playlist w/ miles and swap recommendations every so often– so whenever ur both 2gether and jus chilling you've got good music 2 blast which is a combo of both ur tastes!!! he probably loves ur music, even if itz something he doesn't typically listen to. it's jus so you.

▸U ARE HIS CANVAS NOW. if u let him, he'll doodle in pen on your arm. he's always so focused, his eyes fixed on your skin as he doodles all over your forearm and hand. his grip is gentle as he turns your arm, tilting it every so often to make sure it looks right. there is no awkward silence, no pressure to make conversation- the quiet shared is comforting.

eventually he runs out of space and blinks up at you,, almost forgetting who he was drawing on. he'll apologize for getting so carried- but his drawings look amazing.

...and then he realized it was permanent marker and immediately doubled his apologizes.

PAVITR PRABHAKAR headcanons:

▸ im going to put this here and i dont know why specifically this came to mind. but never play just dance with him. you will LOSE. one of thse people who don't have to try to win. but he WILL put his 100% in it and eat you UPPPP.

sorry u can't outdo him </3

like bro those moves AREN'T EVEN PART OF THIS DANCE HOW ARE YOU STILL WINNING???

▸ gym bro but not Insane Gym Bro just.... gym bro. will try to get you to workout with him,, but like. cool if you don't wanna! is the most supportive gym buddy to have though. will always encourage you throughout the entire thing and not even just to get you to push through a set- this boy genuinely jus believes in you so much.

▸ he's constantly talking to you about gayatri. he loves his gf sm. if ur one of those people who Don't Like hearing abt other ppls relationships he'll make an attempt to tone it down

but trust he NEVER. EVER. makes you third wheel them. gayatri also will make sure of this- so now... more than often... if you're tryin' to hang with the both of them- THEY BOTH TRY TO PLAY MATCHMAKER FOR YOU.

LIKE. you can't just be LONELY. they're gonna make sure of it. pav and gaytri number one wingmen,..,, women,,, besties

▸ probably texts u like crazy. the type of guy to send u things throughout the day like "this is so you :]" he loves his bestie (YOU!!!)

sometimes it's like,, a particularly interestingly shaped cloud. maybe a cool bug that landed nearby him. a flower growing out of the pavement cracks.

and then sometimes it's like. this.

"this is you."

[elliethetennisfan]

Andrey Rublev x f! reader

fluff

warnings; none

!!Not proofread!!

Comment what you think and if i should do more :)) (this is my first short story lol sorry if it’s bad)

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Andrey Rublev stepped onto the pristine grass courts of Wimbledon with determination etched on his face. The young Russian had tirelessly trained for this moment, yearning to etch his name into the annals of tennis history.

His path to the final was strewn with challenges, each match a testament to his skill and resilience. The championship match arrived, a clash of titans awaited. Rublev faced a seasoned opponent, their volleys echoing through the hallowed grounds. The final set was a battle of nerves, but Rublev’s tenacity shone bright as he claimed victory in a thrilling tiebreaker.

The crowd erupted in applause, chants of his name echoing across Centre Court. But amidst the jubilation, Rublev’s mind wandered to one person—his girlfriend, Y/N. She stood at the edge of the court, her eyes shimmering with pride and joy. She rushed to him as he stepped off the court, embracing him tightly, unable to contain her excitement.

Their embrace lingered, words unnecessary amidst the elation that enveloped them. Y/N’s support had been unwavering, a pillar of strength throughout his journey. With tears of joy streaming down her face, she whispered, “You did it, Andrey. You’re a Wimbledon champion.”

The evening was a whirlwind of celebrations. Amidst the popping champagne bottles and flashes of cameras, Y/N ensured Andrey stayed grounded. Her loving gaze never left him, a reminder of the genuine support that transcended the tennis triumph.

Days after the historic win, Andrey and Y/N found solace in a quaint café nestled in the heart of Wimbledon village. Away from the spotlight, they cherished the simple pleasure of each other’s company. Y/N, always his confidante, noticed a hint of pensiveness in Andrey’s eyes.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked, reaching out to hold his hand.

“I can’t shake off the feeling that this victory changes everything,” Andrey confessed. “Expectations, pressures—I fear losing what truly matters amidst the fame and success.”

Y/N squeezed his hand reassuringly. “You’re still the same person I fell in love with, Andrey. Nothing changes that. Let’s navigate this together, stay true to who you are.”

Her words eased the burden in his heart, a gentle reminder of the unwavering support she offered. Together, they embraced the challenges that came with Andrey’s newfound status as a Wimbledon champion.

Months flew by, tournaments came and went, but their bond remained unshakable. Y/N ensured Andrey stayed grounded, reminding him of the values that defined him beyond the tennis courts.

In the serene solitude of their home, Y/N surprised Andrey with a homemade dinner, a simple yet heartfelt gesture. As they sat across each other, relishing the warmth of the moment, Andrey gazed at Y/N with newfound admiration.

“You’re my champion, Y/N,” he said softly, his eyes reflecting gratitude. “Your unwavering support means more than any trophy.”

Touched by his words, Y/N leaned in, her eyes sparkling with love. “Andrey, you’ve always been a champion to me, with or without the titles. I’m just here to remind you of that.”

In that moment, amidst the quietude of their love, Andrey realized that his greatest victory wasn’t claimed on the courts of Wimbledon—it was the unwavering love and support of his girlfriend, Y/N, that made every triumph meaningful.

END

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well this just fed my delusions even more 😭 …. anyways hope you enjoyed !!

again, comment if u like it and ANY advice :)

if you want to give requests i only take them for tennis players (not dead ones though) as i don’t feel necessarily comfortable writing for them.

Please, please, please don’t reblog / repost on any platform without MY permission FIRST. i’ll post my socials soon x

have a good day/night :))

[zzhhbloom]

demon (or world's best matchmaker?)

≡ᶻ��༄ synopsis: a demon from the underworld (read: an owl) has invaded your room. despite your best efforts (involving a lot of running around and deep breaths and textbook projectiles), you resolved to running out of your room after you exhausted your best methods for an exorcism. and unfortunately for you, you ran into hallway crush lee heeseung, who, fortunately for you, was more than willing to assist you in getting your room back.

≡ᶻᶻ༄ genre: heeseung x gn! reader || college!au || acquantainces to friends au || mostly crack and a sprinkle of fluff?

≡ᶻᶻ༄ warnings: cussing and really weird sentence structure that barely make sense im sorry lmao. also y/n is a total scatterbrain and a simp

≡ᶻᶻ༄ word count: ~1.9k

≡ᶻᶻ༄ a/n: i~~~ haven't posted in a while but here we are. a lot of my stories, i'm finding out, are just the most randoms scenarios u can ever imagine translated into a passable reader x [insert character here] fic.

≡ᶻᶻ༄ disclaimer: this does not in any way shape or form represent the real people whose names are mentioned, this is just a deranged kpoppie trying something new :)

“There’s...an owl in my room.” 

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Yes, that. It sounds exactly like that.”

You were never going to keep your window open ever again. 

It had been approximately two (2) months and three (3) days since you moved into the boarding house a block away from your school. Two (2!) months and three (3!!!) days of living on your own for the first time in your life. It was going well, as you had assured your dad that morning. What a naïve fool you were. 

Nothing was fine anymore. 

Not with the foot-tall demon spawn with bright yellow eyes fluttering around your room as if it owned the place and was looking to clock in after a long day. 

You ducked in between your bed and bedside table, praying that it would fly back out the way it came. But after several stretched-out minutes of attempted breathing exercises, you had had enough. You scanned the floor of your room, which was usually pristine but was presently a mess thanks to your frenzied panic. You took hold of your biology textbook, prepared to use it either as a shield or a projectile depending on what the situation called for. 

“You can do this,” you hissed at yourself. All you had to do was shoo it back out the window. Simple. “Just think of it as a...a ball. Yeah. A big, easy-to-hit ball. With wings.”

You took three steady breaths. You stood up. You caught sight of it in the corner of your eye, glaring at you with the full force of hell. That was all it took for you to abandon ship without a second thought. 

You ran out the door, a silent scream stuck in your throat. You slammed the door behind you on the way out, adrenaline coursing through your veins like ice. 

“Are you...okay?”

You looked up at the only other person in the hall at this unholy hour, considerably more sane-looking than you. You knew Lee Heeseung--he was one of the other dozen students that lived in the same boarding house. It was impossible not to notice whenever he walked in a room, much less impossible to avoid looking at him, because JEEPERS did he win the gene pool lottery. 

However, at this particular point in the evening, Lee Heeseung was not somebody who you wanted to see you in the middle of the hall wearing the worst pair of pajamas the world had ever seen. So what if you’d only spoken to him a few times? You still wanted to look normal.

“Are you alright?” he repeated. God, how bad did you look? 

“Yeah, yeah,” you swallowed, now having to battle through two (2!!!!) completely different shocking situations. Frankly, you felt like a lot like y/n in one of those cringe imagines people write online.

"There's just a..." you gesticulated vaguely in the direction of your closed door. Way to make a new impression. How the hell were you going to explain...THIS.

"Did somebody enter your room?" Heeseung asked apprehensively, lowering his voice to a whisper and pitching forward so you could hear. He made it sound like you were hiding some saucy secret behind those doors.

"Um..yes? In a sense, I guess you could say that--"

Heeseung looked around and reached for a Swifer mop that so conveniently leaned against the wall like a piece of modern art (and, living in a house with a few fine arts students, it might as well could have been). "So someone is in there? Do you know who?"

"Yeah. That's exactly what they sound like."

"I'm sorry?"

"I think it's better if I just..." you took hold of the door knob and held up your textbook-turned-shield. Heeseung took that as a warning signal and tightened his grip on the neon-green floor mop. You swung the door open as quietly as you could.

A swoop of wings and scrapping of talons burst out of nowhere, heading straight for at you.

BAM

You slammed the door shut. You looked up at Heeseung as if to say, "Do you see my problem?"

"Holy shit," he stared at the wood of the closed door before turning to you. "How long were you trapped in there for?"

You shivered. "Way too long."

Heeseung set his jaw, pulling his hood up over his head like it was a helmet that could do anything against a set of very sharp claws. He tightened his grip on the mop.

"You don't need to do this," you said apologetically. "I can ask someone else."

"I doubt any of the housekeepers are up right now," he extended the mop handle to its maximum length, locking it in place with a click. "So unless you'd like to spend the night in the common room and hope to God it's gone by morning..."

You shook your head vigorously, turning to face the door, your knuckles white around its knob. It was like a spider. Better get it out of the house before you lost sight of it. But even spiders were better than an imp from the underworld.

"On the count of three," he whispered to you.

"Slowly," you nodded. "One..."

"Two,"

At your unified whisper of "Three-!", you twisted the knob creaking the door ajar as quietly as you could. Heeseung peaked in over your head.

"It's on the blinds," he whispered. You could feel his breath ruffling your hair. Snap out of it, you hissed at yourself. Deciding to panic about this scandalously close proximity another day, you creaked the door further open.

The owl perched itself rather uncomfortably on the blinds above your open window. It had its head tucked underneath one wing but looked relatively unharmed. You noted, with immense relief, that your room was also in a better state than you imagined. You guessed it hadn't really done much while you were out except to fly around in a confused circle, and you had been the one at fault for recreating a crime scene.

"It's right there," you hissed at it, gesturing at the wide-open window half a foot away from its talons.

The owl untucked its head and gave you a steely glare. You let out something that sounded a little like "meep!" and held up the textbook up to your face. Psh. Like you could scare it away with diagrams of cell membranes and respiration cycles.

"Let me try," Heeseung stepped in front of you, taking the door knob from your hand and pushing it open micrometer by micrometer. You stared at the owl from under his arm. It stared back at you. Everything about it was unflinching.

Heeseung took a slow, cautious step into the thresholds of your room, holding the mop at the ready. (Some part of your schoolgirl mind was screaming at the fact that the infamous hallway crush Lee Heeseung was in your bedroom!!)

You fell into silent step behind him, clutching your own weak excuse for a weapon and closing the door behind you. The last thing any one of you wanted was to have the owl fly out into the hall and wake up everyone in the house (and risk getting kicked out now that you've finally made contact with Lee Heeseung. Of course that's not what was really important).

The two of you crossed the room, holding your breath and freezing up your joints whenever the owl so much as blinked. At one point, it stretched its neck to an unnatural length and lifted its wings. Heeseung took an instinctive step back, nearly knocking you over. And like in all those cliché y/n moments, you would have promptly fell over on your behind if you hadn't caught hold of the back of his hoodie. Thankfully, Heeseung wasn't as much of a klutz as you were, and he braced himself to keep you both from falling over, reaching an arm back to steady you if you needed it.

The owl was so close now. Heeseung extended the Swifer's mop end. Slowly, carefully, he lifted it until it was inches away from the owl's talons. It flapped its wings and your heart almost stopped permanently.

"Hey, buddy," Heeseung murmured soothingly in a voice that would have put babies to sleep in seconds. He poked the mop carefully against the bird's scaly talons of death. "Need a ride outta here?"

Somehow, the owl decided it quite liked this human with a weird stick it was shoving in its face. It shifted its weight onto the stick, offering one, slow, inquisitive blink.

You pinched the corner of Heeseung's hoodie, ready to pull him backwards to safety or offer him as a sacrificial offering depending again on what the situation called for. You needed to be ready for anything.

Soon, he began to lift the Feathered Thing with Eyes of the Highest Hatred away from the blinds. Slowly, carefully, steadily, hushing soothing nothings all the way. You knew it was meant for the bird but damn, was it working a little too well.

The mop was now low enough that all the owl had to do was turn around and fly out. But it kept its gaze fixedly on the two of you, as if two humans had gone and flown into its bedroom.

"Don't you dare fly at me," you told those all-seeing eyes.

"You heard them," Heeseung warned, voice slow and deep as he slowly inched the mop--and its passenger--out the gaping window. "Don't. You dare. Fly."

The mop was now hanging a foot outside the window. You wondered how the scene would have looked like to a passerby below--a bright green Swifer mop poking out of an open third-story window at a ridiculous hour with--heaven help them--an OWL perched ever so precariously atop it.

The owl stared at the two of you, as if to say "What now?". The two of you stared right back at it, unflinching.

A stale eternity passed. Dust particles could have been heard resting lightly on the tabletop.

Then, without warning, Heeseung shook the mop vigorously, sparing no profanity in exclaiming, "Good fucking night to you, sir!"

The owl flew majestically off into the night as if it hadn't just been thrown off a mop head. You ran to the window and slammed it shut. You didn't realize you were laughing until you tried to say something and choked on the words. Heeseung was laughing, too, pulling his hood back and looking up at the Swifer in equal parts disbelief and reverence.

"I ca't believe that worked," you managed in between bouts of laughter.

"This is going on my list of greatest life achievements for sure."

"You could start a business."

"Of throwing owls out of windows?"

"Oh, for sure," you pointed at the Swifer. "You could even get sponsored by them."

Heeseung laughed, and your face warmed. "Would you testify to the quality of my services as my first client?"

"Sure," you piped. "Cute, extremely efficient, but nearly threw the mop out the window. I demand 5% of the profit, by the way."

Heeseung was still hung up on the second word you said, a smirk spreading across his face and eyes sparkling. "I should get going. It's late. You probably want to fix up." He waved at the crumpled sheets and scattered books littered across your little room.

He picked his way through the obstacle of your belongings, turning around at the door to say. "I can't guarantee you 5% of my smashing new start-up," Heeseung went along with the bit. "But how about we hang out some time instead? Preferably without any feathered wildlife present, if that's...cool with you?"

You were laughing a lot today. "Yeah, yeah," you leaned against the door frame. Maybe that owl wasn't such a demon after all. "I'd really like that."

---------------------------

bonus: From the trees, the owl watched the exchange between the two humans happen with a smug expression. Or at least, as smug as an expression an owl can muster.

Mission accomplished. With a triumphant "whooo!" it pushed off from the branch and flew off into the night.

[v1x3n]

⋆｡°‧★ - THE WINNING BATTLE

simon 'ghost' riley x reader ⸝⸝ navigation ୨୧ tags : fluff // part two

୨୧ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 : " i love you " " i love you most" ; a battle, thats what it was. a battle, a war for who loves eachother more. couples would kill for the "fine you love me more." and thats exactly how you and simon were.

the daily war began in the morning. your slumber coming to an end when simon tickles you awake, carefully - unwanting to harm you. he was always carefull. even though his hands were rough they were always soft towardw you, you would get the best treatment. his warm hands are brought around your ribcage and he tickles you. in response you hit him after you stir away, a soft hit obviously. even though a rough hit would probably do jack shit to simon, you would never think about laying a hand on him seriously. the hits would just be like silly little pats, thats more of what you should call it.

silly little pats.

simon hold you in his arms and mumbles sweet ' i love yous ' into your skin, kissing your collarbone and peppering small pecks all along it. "i love you most sweetie" you sigh into his air, just a small content sigh. the scent of the shampoo you had put and washed into his hair the previous night filled your nose.

"i love u more though" simon kisses your skin once more, you giggle at how soft his actions are.

"you wish" you ruffle his hair then peck the top of his head, right in the middle.

he glares up at you, using almost a pushup position to look at you. "want me to prove it?" you could see his mischievous smirk from miles away. before you could even answer he brought his hands to your cheek and squished gently. his lips brought to yours and he spams kisses all over your lips. you giggle at him and try to hit him off softly, silly little pats once more.

"ill always love you more, dove"

comment to join main taglist!

[internetgremlin-writes]

HEAR ME OUT, FORMER TEAMMATE!READER X CARLOS AND ITS JUST RRADER BEING SO HAPPY SEEING HIM SMILING ON TOP OF THE PODIUM AND REALIZING SHE'S BEEN IN LOVE WITH HIM ALL THIS TIME AND IT'S JUST FLUFF

This is combined with the anon who asked for friends to lovers and @serialkillertbh and @fortunatelylovingsweets who both just asked for fluff in general!

not that anyone asked but to keep things fair, again i am not answering asks in any specific order i made a carlos only wheel to choose haha

in other news THE GIFS ARE HERE and can i also say a big thank u to @someone-worth-racing-for for providing such top quality gifs, i always end up using yours for carlos fics <3

The crowd were so loud as you rounded the bend onto the home straight that you could actually hear them roaring through your helmet.

The chequered flag was waving just ahead of you and you were locked out in a vicious wheel-to-wheel battle with Fernando Alonso for 5th place. Gritting your teeth, using the screams of your home crowd and digging as deep as possible to find any reserves you had left, you threw everything at the car.

"C'mon, Carrot, just gimme a little more," you mumbled into your helmet, giving everything you had to the point where you were just willing the car to give you just another hundredth of a second.

"P5 Y/N! P5!" Your race engineer's voice broke over the radio, rapidly cut off by a scream from you.

"Really!?" The crowd was going wild, so much so that you could barely even hear the radio.

"Yes! Amazing job, fantastic drive!" You were gone again, lost in the euphoria of the moment and celebrating your personal best with yourself. You noticed you were halfway through your cool-down laps and the crowd were still ringing in your ears. "Do I take it Lewis won?"

There was a suspicious pause from your engineer. When he spoke next you could hear the smile in his voice.

"Nope. Carlos P1, Checo P2, Lewis P3, then Charles, You, Fernando and Lando in P7,"

You didn't think the rest of your radio message would be broadcasted. Between the swearing, screaming and whooping you weren't exactly coherent. You could feel your eyes burning as tears of pure joy spilt over your cheeks, which were starting from aching from how much you were grinning and hollering.

You'd never heard such good news. You were a handful of seasons into your career, but starting at Renault hadn't given you a flying start and then in 2021 you moved to McLaren, where you were slowly starting to creep up into the points, but P5 was your best score to date. You were also thrilled for Lando, who was bringing home double points for the team. And then there was Carlos.

You'd joined Renault a year after Carlos, in 2018. He had been your first ever teammate, and to say he'd left a lasting impression would be an understatement. The pair of you gelled immediately and him taking you under his wing and being incredibly protective of his little rookie quickly blossomed into a genuine friendship built on mutual respect. You had virtually the same sense of humour, which led to some PR videos going viral, and the pair of you fast became a fan favourite. So much so that a year later when Carlos announced he was moving to McLaren, alongside another rookie, the fans (and you) were devastated.

It seemed like a sick twist of fate that after only two years, you ended up following him and taking his spot at McLaren alongside Lando when he moved to Ferrari. Even after his move, Carlos always made time for you. He made a point of never being more than a text or phone call away, and he was one of the few people who you felt truly took you seriously in the paddock. You'd spent many a night sat up late with him wherever you were, in some questionable Renault accommodation, with his 0% beer as you shared your darkest secrets and bonded over the desire to win.

Carlos had admitted to you, in utmost privacy, that he was considering retiring if he ended his 8th season without a win, much to your horror. To say you were delighted for him would have been an understatement.

You abandoned your car, got weighed in a blur and sprinted up to the winner's section of Park Ferme. Carlos was still yet to go into the cool-down room - you spotted him being virtually pulled over the barrier by his team as everyone wanted to give him a slap on the back. You waited for a moment, and then when he was starting to clamber down, you ran at him.

It was difficult with your helmets still on, but somehow he spotted you and was quick enough to catch you as you threw yourself at him, his arms wrapping around your waist as he steadied you and you could hear the muffle of his laugh, warm and rich.

"You did it! I knew you could, I always knew it!" You were rambling but you didn't care, you needed your best friend to know how overjoyed you were. He squeezed you tighter before letting you down, pulling his helmet and baklava off so he could talk to you. You noticed as he did his eyes were red, and cheeks a little flush. He couldn't seem to control the beam he was radiating.

"Thank you. And look at you, P5! I'll be fighting you off my trophies soon," You shook your head, trying and failing to flatten down your hair as you did so.

"I literally don't care, I'm just so glad you won. Carlos Sainz: Formula One winner," you mocked an interviewer as you spoke, forcing your accent as posh as you could make it like an old-fashioned BBC commentator. He stood up a little taller, eyes shining as he grinned down at you. There was a swell in your chest and you thought for a moment you could never be happier, not even when it was your turn on the top step.

"Sounds good, no?"

"So good," you confirmed, pulling him into a hug and then accepting that you had to let him go to the cool-down room and have his podium ceremony.

You stood at the front, of course. You didn't think the top step suited anyone more, and even more so, you were thrilled that the crowd seemed to have adopted Carlos as an honourary Brit following his stint at McLaren judging by the noise being made for him. And he looked so good up there, clinging onto his flag and looking over everything with that look that said he was processing everything and not quite believing it was real and it was all for him.

It was during his national anthem that everything changed.

Your entire focus was, of course, trained on Carlos. He looked like he was virtually glowing standing up there. For a second he closed his eyes, shifting his stance and lifting his chin up with a proud little smile and your world changed.

It was like sitting in the optician's chair when they give you that lens to look through that just shifts your entire world into focus. You felt like you were seeing clearly for the first time in five years. Your stomach dropped at the same time as your heart leapt into your throat, beginning to hammer the way it did at the start of a race. Suddenly, everything made sense. How close you'd immediately become at Renault, the way he made you feel secure and listened to. How easy it was to trust him. The way he was the first person you looked for when you arrived at the paddock, even after he left. When he told you he was leaving and it felt like the end of the world. The way every time he found you now you were on different teams, you left the interaction with a spring in your step and renewed confidence.

Holy shit, you were in love with Carlos Sainz.

And you were so dumb it took you staring at him getting everything he ever deserved to realise it. Your chest tightened. This time it was a familiar sensation. That feeling you had huge news, and not a clue of who you could possibly tell, if anyone. That the person you desperately wanted to tell would be entirely unavailable for heaven only knows how long after this. And a faint sense of dread that this had been a very, very stupid epiphany to have because you'd probably never be able to be with him like that and you'd ruined your friendship in one go.

You watched the rest of the ceremony in a strange combination of overwhelmingly happy and subduedly heartbroken.

In a matter of a short few hours, you found yourself pleasantly drunk and stumbling around the after-party. You weren't typically the type to get drunk to drown your sorrows, and initially, you had been drinking happily along with the rest of the drivers in pure celebration. But it was funny what a couple of glasses of Daniel's wine mixed with something you didn't want to think about too much could do, and your happy drunk self faded into a self-pitying, brooding character.

The place was crammed, so at first, you hadn't really noticed yourself withdrawing that much until you were pressed against the cooling glass of the French doors leading out onto one of the smoking balconies. Casting a quick glance over the mingle of people spread out in front of you, including Zak Brown laughing loudly at a joke and Lando huddled in a corner with his gaming friends looking at something on his phone, you assumed you wouldn't be missed.

England isn't known for its warm summers and when you realised you'd left your jacket inside you were grateful that the collection of plush garden furniture was situated underneath the heaters placed along the wall. You sank down into a comfortable armchair, considering the rest of the glass of red wine you were holding with a foggy mind. You fought the urge to send some whiney texts to some close friends from home, but luckily your mind was clear enough to register that was the drink talking and place both your phone and the glass down on the small table in front of you.

You leant back, your head tilted upwards as you basked under the pleasant heat being emitted and allowed yourself to fall into the floating sensation for just a little while.

"Hey - this is where you went?" The familiar rolling accent was enough to get you to open one eye, and you realised that if you dropped your head even further back you could get a look at Carlos from where he was standing by the doors without moving. As an upside-down Spaniard swam into your view he laughed at you with a shake of his head.

"Needed some air," you mumbled, suddenly feeling a lot more sober as he dropped into the seat beside you.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?" He was giving you that scrutinising look that said there was no way you were getting away with your response.

"Because..." he dragged out the word, smile still tugging at his lips. "You went quiet ages ago and I got worried,"

"Oh," your mind was too slow to come up with a decent excuse. "It's just the wine - a bit strong for me," you admitted, pointing at the unfinished glass in front of you.

"I don't believe that, but okay,"

He turned in his chair, back resting against one of the arms and legs dangling over the other. His hair was still a mess, bits of it flopping into his face as he focused on his phone, typing a message out with exaggerated concentration. Your chest squeezed.

"If I told you something dumb would you promise to forget it in the morning?" The words were out before you could stop them, and judging by the way he was looking at you with those big curious eyes like he didn't want to be anywhere else, well you knew you weren't getting away with it.

"Like... how dumb?" You shrugged, suddenly fascinated in the palms of your hands. If you looked at him again you'd say something really stupid. What you hadn't noticed was that Carlos had slid out of his armchair and was squatting directly in front of you, concerned brown eyes trained on your face. His cheeks were flushed, full lips pink and the corners resting in a permanent smile. He looked so dangerously good in just a jumper and jeans.

"Like... I just realised I'm in love with you and I have no idea what do to about it?"

"Oh,"

"Oh god,"

"No-"

"No - just - shit I'm sorry. Just forget I said anything, I'm wine drunk and feeling sorry for myself, I don't wanna say anything that takes away from you today. You should go back inside, everyone is going to be wondering where you are and...." you trailed off when you moved your hands from where they were covering your face because he was looking at you with something terrifying shining in his eyes.

"You - you're in love with me?"

"Maybe? It hit me when you were on the podium. Fuck, you looked so good up there, Carlos, and I - I don't know it just thew everything into perspective-"

You didn't get to finish your sentence because you were muffled by a warm heart and you realised he was kissing you. Your body responded on autopilot, arms wrapping around his neck as he stood leaning over you. When he pulled back he had the same grin on his face he had when he'd just pulled something clever off in a challenge video and he was waiting to see how you'd respond. Your heart was hammering, body struggling to keep up with mind as you slowly were realising what had just happened. That Carlos Sainz had kissed you.

"I think I've been in love with you for a long, long time. I just assumed you weren't interested because you never replied to my flirting,"

"What flirting?" His eyes widened in shock as he stared at you as though you'd just admitted to something much more shocking.

"I flirted with you every day!"

"No, you didn't!"

"I asked you to dinner with me once a week..."

"I thought you were being a good friend!" Carlos groaned dramatically, dropping his head onto your shin bone and gently bumping it a couple of times to make his point. You liked the way his hair tickled against your skin.

He was nudging at you, pulling you up from your chair and capturing you in a quick kiss, before settling himself in one of the deck chairs looking out across the landscape and pulling you between his legs. You found yourself relaxing against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like you cuddled with him every day.

"Don't you have a party to be going back to?" You asked, enjoying the way his chest rumbled and it vibrated through your lungs as he made a noise in response.

"I have to ask someone on a date first," he was nosing soft kisses against your shoulder. They were gentle, lazy almost. They weren't asking for anything, they were just there because he wanted to kiss you, and you weren't stopping him.

You and Carlos watched the sunrise like that. Talking about nothing and everything all at once. Talking about all the things you should have done years ago. It felt so good to have him like that, so right. It was like some final barrier had crumbled between the two of you and he was seeing you exactly as you were. There was no hiding, no pretending, and what thrilled you, even more, was that he liked what he saw there.

You felt yourself snuggling further into his strong arms, relishing in the way he felt so warm and sturdy against you. Your eyes were growing heavy, the relief and the weight of everything finally lifting and being replaced with a warm heaviness creeping up your limbs.

The last thing you remembered before you slipped into a dawn sleep was the feeling of Carlos' lips on the top of your head, and his soothing voice close by your ear.

"I don't know if this day could have gone any more perfect,"

[icedmetaltea]

Sigh......... another yandere au I thought of in the shower

Fuck dude I like villain y/ns so much... Just imagining a superhero au where there are tons of supers running around and thus lots of supervillains. Y/n is one but their powers are... lacking. Thus they try to make up for it by building a big army of henchmen. Eventually said henchmen start to realize they never seem to be winning any fights and move on to better villains, leaving y/n with these two idiot animatronics who for whatever reason are super obedient and loyal to them no matter what, perhaps to a fault since they're always calling them mid-battle to ask what to do lol (I also like to think they were mass-produced for battle and y/n somehow ended up with the only two who were shite at their job gfioejgijreis) Y/n gets tired of this and goes to some villain meetup (in which they are laughed at, but disregards it cause they have like no self-awareness) and asks this villain with wizard-like powers who can enchant things to cast a spell on the animatronics so they'll actually do things of their own volition. Said villain warns them it may result in some... unwanted consequences, since the bots were created to follow orders and may act unexpectedly or even turn against their superior if they follow through. Y/n, being an idiot, agrees anyway. The bots do start acting of their own will, so much so that they beat the hell outta both heroes and villains (or straight up murdering them, depending on how fucked-up u like your AUs) without caring who's on what side, and eventually establish actual supervillain names for themselves.

Seeing them get all the attention, y/n decides they should finally just step down from trying to be a villain, since even the only ones willing to stay by their side finally left and went on to do better things...

That is till their lair (or what remains of it) is invaded and they're knocked out by some unknown assailants. They wake up in some unfamiliar place, which they soon realize is the first hideout they'd used back when they first started the supervillain business. It's long-since been abandoned, till now anyway.

They're soon greeted by those two animatronics, who excitedly explain what they've been doing all this time, talking about how they'd been doing their best to make their boss proud. From here it can be tooth-rotting fluff where they talk about how much they wanted to impress y/n bc they looked up to them so much even if nobody else did...

Orrrr straight-up horror where they present all the body parts of heroes/villains who laughed at y/n in the past that they've taken as trophies to show them, a reminder of what will happen from now on to anyone who dares to mock their boss mwahahahaha

[claudemblems]

thx for answering my apology post lol! Is it possible if I could choose for the request yuri picking her up request that I sent between the 2? I don't know if u remember the one specifically!

No worries! I’m always happy to get a request for Yuri 🥺 I miss him sm I really need to play through more of Three Hopes lol

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Sweep Me Off My Feet | Yuri Leclerc Headcanons

Summary: Fluff headcanons of Post Timeskip!Yuri with Reader who loves being picked up, spun around, and carried princess style by him

Notes: I did add just a twinge bit of spice but I felt like it fit with the theme of the request. Nothing too crazy tho! I hope that's all right :) Also this is very long but I'm sure that's not a surprise at this point

Yuri’s not really someone that likes to show affection out in the open. There’s too many eyes on him and, as the boss of Abyss, he has to be alert at all times. But mainly he’s just shy (don’t be fooled by his flirty persona). However, if you truly insist for him to dote on you, he can’t possibly refuse you.

That being said, he does like to save romantic gestures for times such as celebration. He will absolutely pick you up after winning a battle, spinning you around with a relieved grin on his face. What can he say? Few things make him happier than knowing he’s kept the people he loves safe. 

And at night time, you’ve noticed that he tends to be more clingy. Perhaps it’s the tiredness talking, or maybe it’s because he doesn’t have to worry about watchful eyes around every corner. But that’s usually when he’ll pick you up by the waist and set you on his lap, silently burying his head into the crook of your neck. He’s just so precious. 

He also loves picking you up princess style as much as you do. You joke about him being your knight in shining armor, leaving him playfully rolling his eyes at you. But he does get satisfaction in knowing that you see him as your protector. He’ll swear an oath to you if you have any doubts. 

The affection he gives you increases tenfold after the two of you have married. He practically won’t let your feet touch the ground after your wedding night. It’s the perfect chance for him to lavish you in love, so let him enjoy it as much as he can. 

Or when it’s just the two of you alone at night, perhaps in the old Ashen Wolves classroom or in a dimly lit hallway in Abyss, clinging onto each other and sharing passionate kisses, he’ll get this unmistakable mischievous glint in his eyes. Next thing you know, he’s swept you off your feet, carrying you to his room. Don’t worry. He’ll make sure you know just how loved and cherished you are by morning.

He just likes to have you all to himself. Sometimes he doesn’t initiate romantic gestures in public not because he’s shy, but because he's incredibly jealous. He won’t tell you that, but it’s not hard to put the pieces together. 

Though Yuri’s more inclined to be lovey with you if it’s just the Ashen Wolves around. He’ll pull you onto his lap, lock his fingers with yours, or even pick you up by the waist to help you reach something. Sure, he could just get it for you, but you look so determined and he may or may not like taking every chance he gets to feel your touch. It often leaves Hapi and Constance audibly groaning or Balthus sending teasing jokes his way, but seeing the smile on your face is all that matters.

Yuri may not show it outwardly, but he really is a hopeless romantic. Ask him for anything and he’ll give it to you without hesitation. Best of all, he will never grow tired of doing things that make you happy. As long as you’re safe and smiling, what more could he ask for?

With you by his side, he has everything he needs. 

[kirozai]

My first brain rot

Firstly Hi.. let me go with 🐝 anon

How are you..? 💗

What if the acolytes found out if their creator/player give nickname for everyone

The nickname can go from expressing love. Teasing to feeling irritated

Like tatang(tartaglia). Kazuzu(kazuha). Ningshi(ninggguang). Bedo(Albedo).

Or just generic nickname like baby. Honey. Sweetheart.. when ever they meet them

Or how do they feel the creator make their "player" name like "honey" or "babe" so when they talk to the traveller they gotta adress them with those name

im doing great !! welcome to the anon family!

darling?.. or maybe…

CW: sagau, self aware, yandere themes, pure fluff

synopsis: kazuha, albedo, and tartaglia are given nicknames by you.

type of reader: god!reader, darling!reader, gn!reader

kazuha

“aha!.. your grace thank you!”

i feel like you would come up with the nickname while randomly watching him make haikus.

it’ll be a relaxing time and suddenly an idea popped into your head. Kazuzu.

he doesn’t find out until you u use it to call for him.

“Kazuzu could you get me a cup of water?”

saying it so normally and it rolls smoothly off your tongue, almost going past his head completely.

“s-sorry what?”

he’d be like the one to just freeze im place trying to process what is happening.

it kinda gets him more alerted when you say it but over time he learns to adjust to the random nicknames.

now when making your name as honey, babe, etc…

kazhua tries his best to composure himself in a professional way. but he thinks it’s just a way of you joking.

imagine him being able to say your name omg give me a kazhua someone pleas

albedo

“how unique your grace.”

albedo is never surprised with your antics.

that or he is just really good at hiding his flusteredness (is that a word??)

bedo sounds a lot like baedo and bae is like a romantic term

he kinda is proud of it??

sometimes your nicknames get quite interesting. like.. bee?

“your grace, do you have any reason for calling me a bee?”

“i like bees”

with albedo having your name set as a petname really doesn’t matter

he will call you anything as long as it isn’t negative towards you.

omg imagine him saying like

“would you like to try it out, love?”

*butterflies*

AAAAAAAAA

tartaglia

“awhh thank you!”

WEARS THE NICKNAME LIKE A TROPHY OMGGG

not even joking he would ask you for a new nickname every single godamn time he wins a battle

“your graceee :((( can i have a new nickname??? i deserve it!!”

collecting that stuff like pokemon cards

tatang is an interesting nickname!

it gets him excited!

would never let you call him his “regular name”

unless it’s his REAL REAL NAME

would never let anyone make fun of them.

would be like super boastful about calling you nicknames

i feel like he would emphasize the nickname.

“of course HONEY i love the thrill of battle.”

well…

i have been slacking so much on requests lately but ill get back to it soon!

kirozai out!

tip jar! (appreciated)