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thef1diary · 3 months

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Little Big Fan | Four

- Little Big Celebration

Series Masterlist

wc: 1.6k

After getting over the initial shock of seeing him, you greeted him. "I thought you were room service, I ordered some food."

He smiled but then he asked the question he's been meaning to ask since he couldn't find you after the celebrations, "why did you leave so fast?"

"Isabella watched you hold the trophy then she fell asleep. I didn't want the noise to disturb her," you explained, and he nodded in understanding. "Is that why we're still standing here, because she's sleeping inside?"

You shook your head, "as long as you keep it down." You moved out of the way to let him inside and he saw your favourite show queued up on the tv.

"Looks like you already have plans for the night," Max commented and you chuckled, "This is how my nights are usually spent."

"Well then I probably shouldn't ask if you want to come celebrate with us." Both of you sat on the couch, facing each other. "That would mean going to a club, which I can't do but you should go celebrate your win."

Based on the celebrations you saw on the podium, you knew the afterparty would be even better. A little part of you wished that you could go, but you were content with how you've been spending your nights lately.

"Congratulations by the way," you added. "Do you want me to leave?" Max asked bluntly which made you frown. "No, but if you have plans—"

"My plans are here, with you," he interrupted you, making you shut your mouth with his response. A smile threatened to grow on your face but you managed to compose it. "Plus I can celebrate next weekend at the next race," Max added, a smug smile on his face and you couldn't hold back yours any longer.

"That confident in your winning capabilities?" You asked with a teasing tone behind your words. He shrugged, "if I don't think I am the best, then I won't be the best."

There was another knock at your door, and this time you were certain it was room service. Fortunately, you ordered enough food so you could share with Max.

Watching your show was at the bottom of the priority list, replaced by wanting to keep the conversation going with Max.

"Don't tell Brad about this," Max spoke, pointing to the meal that surely wasn't part of his diet. "Oh no, the champion is a rule breaker," you teased him, earning a smile from him in return.

Max looked at the closed bedroom door, "did she have fun today?"

"So much fun! I think she would start asking me when we're going to another race," you told him, the excitement on Isabella's face is something you wouldn't forget anytime soon.

"All you have to do is ask, I can get you the passes for the next race." Based on his tone, he wasn't joking and you quickly shook your head.

"No, you've already done so much for us; the hotel, flight tickets, caps and whatnot," you explained, but he was quick to retort. "I don't want to sound like a stuck up asshole, but the cost doesn't matter as much as the experience."

You couldn't help but chuckle, "maybe another time, Isabella is starting school soon too."

"First grade?" He asked, and you nodded, "yeah, she's growing up so fast."

"And what about you, did you enjoy this weekend?" He looked at you in anticipation, hoping you enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed yours.

"Maybe not as much as Isabella, but it was a very nice experience and I still can't believe you do this for a living." He chuckled at your response, but then you added, "and what about you?"

"What about me?" He asked, and you clarified, "did you enjoy this weekend, home race and all?"

He seemed taken aback by the question but he answered nonetheless. "A lot better than it usually is," the meaning behind his words was clear to you, especially with the way he looked at you.

"If you told me earlier, I would've worn orange for the race." Max shook his head, "Then people would've thought that you were supporting McLaren."

An idea popped in your mind and you slapped your hand on his thigh while exclaiming, "I should've taken the cape from Daniel!"

Your hand remained on his thigh but you didn't seem to realize, and he didn't move it away either. "I'll get you one next year," Max suggested.

Your focus shifted away from Max as soon as you heard footsteps in the room Isabella was sleeping in. "Hold on," you stood up and went to check on her.

As soon as you opened the door, Isabella paused in her step, looking at you with a sheepish smile on her face.

"Angel, are you hungry?" You asked, knowing that there were a bit of leftovers. She shook her head, then pointed at the suitcase or rather the teddy bear sitting on the suitcase.

You passed it to her and she climbed back in bed. "Are you sure you're not hungry?"

"No, mama, I'm tired." On cue, she yawned as you walked closer to her. Tucking her in properly, you placed a kiss on her forehead and sat by her side, brushing your fingers through her hair until she was sound asleep. Which again, didn't take long.

You noticed the glittery clips still in her hair from earlier in the day. You carefully began taking them out one by one while trying not to wake her up. Then, after placing another kiss on her forehead, you left the room.

"Everything okay?" Max asked as soon as you sat down on the couch. You nodded, "yeah, she went back to sleep."

"The race really tired her out today," he smiled because of his next thought, "seems like she's the one who raced instead of me."

You chuckled, "looks like it." Then you added, "I know you're a professional and all but it was just as much fun as it was scary watching you drive so fast."

"So you're not a big fan of fast cars?" He didn't comment on the fact that you only mentioned him while there were nineteen other drivers on the grid.

"That depends, will your follow up question be if I would trust you to drive me around?" You responded with a question and he had a sheepish smile on his face, "maybe."

"I guess I'll have to get in a car with you one day to know the answer to both questions."

Your conversation was interrupted by a call on Max's phone. He muttered a curse before declining it. "Why don't we watch your show?" Max suggested, leaning back on the couch comfortably.

You didn't ask him about his other plans, as he had already assured you earlier that the only plan he has for tonight are with you.

It was possible that he wanted to spend more time with you before you leave tomorrow evening, and you couldn't help but smile at the thought.

The thought of leaving didn't sit with you, but you pushed it to the back of your mind and focused on the present, with him.

You grabbed the remote and pressed play, shuffling a tad bit closer to Max.

Somewhere along the way, a few episodes later, Max's arm rested on the back of the couch. His fingers lightly grazed your shoulder every time either of you moved.

Max's phone rang two more times. The second time he picked up and quickly muttered, "I'm busy." Then he turned it off, and apologized to you.

"It's okay, you're the most popular man of the night, people want to see you," you shrugged casually.

"Yeah well, I don't want to see them." You chuckled, liking his bluntness.

It was pretty late when he decided to leave, both of you were so tired but neither wanted the night the end. You opened the door for him, but as he stepped out, he turned to look at you.

"I'll drop you two at the airport tomorrow, just let me know when you're leaving." Once again he said it so casually that you had to remind yourself that he only knew you for a few days. Although it didn't feel like it.

"You don't have to," you reminded him that he was under no obligation to send you off. He shook his head, "I want to, if you let me."

You couldn't say no to him, and perhaps it was a little selfish because you wanted to spend all the time there was with him. You haven't been selfish in a while and it is about time to change that.

"I'll text you tomorrow then. Isabella is going to be very happy knowing she'll see you tomorrow as well." You stated, not mentioning that you would be happy to see him too, using your daughter as an excuse. But then, you didn’t lie either because Isabella would be overjoyed as well.

"Trust me, I'll be very happy too," he added with a smile, preferring not to tell you how delighted he would be to see you as much as he was to see Isabella. That information was best kept to himself.

Then he left. While Max hadn't properly celebrated a race win tonight like he usually did, this sort of celebration felt better than any others.

He walked away with a smile on his face that wasn't related to his victory at all. He was just looking forward to seeing you and Isabella again.

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @namgification

#max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #thef1diary fic #f1 imagine #little big fan fic #fluff

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munson-blurbs · 3 months

Note

Headcanon: Eddie is a boob man. Best friend Eddie would one day notice your boobs (maybe in a bathing suit or a low cut top or something) and they become his new obsession hehe

Us? Projecting? Never.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unwanted boners, semi-public masturbation (m), Eddie's a perv but he's not thrilled about it, Reader has boobs but no size is given (Eddie loves all boobs, let's be real)

WC: 1.3k

Divider credit to @saradika

Stupid D20.

Stupid Dustin for tossing it so far across the table.

Stupid low-cut shirt that exposes your chest when you lean over to collect the die, giving Eddie a stupid boner in the middle of Hellfire Club.

“Hey, Ed!” Gareth calls out impatiently, snapping his fingers in front of the Dungeon Master’s face. “You wanna tell us if we defeated the demogorgon, or are you just gonna stare off into space?”

Eddie clears his throat. “Sorry. Right.” He tries his best to proceed with the campaign as usual, but all he can think about are your boobs and how grateful he is to be sitting down right now.

When he adjourns the meeting, he’s still too hard to stand without someone noticing. “I’m just gonna, uh, hang back and brainstorm for a few,” he lies as smoothly as he can.

“Can’t wait to see what sadistic shit you come up with,” Mike says. The rest of the guys slap him five in agreement as they clamor out the door.

The only people left in the room are you and Eddie.

Of course.

“You don’t have to stick around, Sweetheart.” He tries not to sound too dismissive, plastering a smile on his face.

“You’re my ride.”

Shit. “Oh. Right.” He hedges a nervous laugh. “I’ll be ready in five.”

You nod. “No worries. I’ll run to the girls’ room while I wait.” Before reaching the door, you notice that Lucas’s character sheet has fluttered to the ground. You reach down and scoop it up, revealing the tops of your bra-covered breasts.

“Sinclair owes me,” you chirp, placing the paper back on the table, remaining utterly oblivious to the way Eddie is straining against his zipper once again.

To Eddie’s credit, he tries to stop thinking about them. He really, truly does.

You’re his best friend. He doesn’t want to constantly think about your boobs, or the way they’d feel pressed against his bare chest, or whether your nipples would harden if he sucked on them, or—

“Mr. Munson!” Ms. O’Donnell’s shrill screech snaps him out of his breast-induced stupor. “Is there a reason why you can’t be bothered to listen while I’m trying to teach?”

“N-No, ma’am.”

She huffs out an irritated sigh. “Since you must know everything already, why don’t you come up and solve the problem for us?” She taps the piece of chalk against the blackboard, leaving tiny white dots in its wake.

Eddie shakes his head, feeling his cheeks burn red. Humiliating himself when he can’t figure out the value of x will be bad enough, but to fail while his sail is at half-mast? He’ll never recover.

Fortunately, the old bird relents and turns back to the board to continue her lesson.

Crisis averted.

Except…is it?

Because the only thing—things, rather—on Eddie’s mind are your tits. And he isn’t supposed to be imagining himself caressing them while you’re bouncing on his cock, moaning his name, saying that only he can make you feel that good…

He’s racing out of his seat the moment the bell rings, making a mad dash for the Hellfire room, relieved to see that it’s unoccupied. The door barely closes behind him before he’s ambling towards his DM throne and frantically tugging down his jeans and boxers.

“Fucking Christ,” he whispers, inhaling sharply as his cock is free of its denim restraint. He wraps his hand around it and squeezes in his desperation for an ounce of relief. Pre-cum already leaks from his red, angry tip, and he knows from experience that this is not going away without some…intervention.

Eddie reluctantly lets go of himself and spits into his open palm. He bites his lower lip to stifle a burgeoning moan as he slowly works his shaft, fingers tightening to simulate what he imagines to be the way you’d feel.

“Thassit, mmmf, feels s’good.” He closes his eyes and rests the back of his head on his chair. He needs you underneath him so he can watch your breasts jiggle with each snap of his hips.

“Bet you want my cum, huh? Where do you want it?” Eddie keeps his voice low, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Want it on those pretty tits of yours? Yeah, you fuckin’ do.”

His fist flies over his hardness, choked whimpers escaping his lips. He feels pleasure begin to build and moans your name to bring himself over the edge.

“Yeah?”

Eddie’s head snaps forward, taking a moment to let reality seep in. He’s not buried deep within you; he’s jerking off in a dark room where he plays Dungeons & Dragons, and you’re standing in the doorway.

“Eds? You okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. ‘M fine,” he lies, silently brainstorming ways to tuck himself back into his pants without you noticing.

You arch a disbelieving brow. “You sure? Lucas said he saw you running down the hallway—”

“I’m fine!” He insists louder this time. Shaking his head, he bites his lip and attempts to collect himself.

The two of you have been friends for too long; you know that he’s far from fine when he raises his voice. You walk to him, determined to figure out what’s wrong.

And then you see it.

Eddie says nothing, fully focused on covering himself as best he can and avoiding eye contact.

It doesn’t take long for you to put the pieces together: semi-hard cock in his hand, sweat beading on his forehead, the pleading mentions of your name.

“Eddie.” You let your fingertips brush against his shoulder. “Did I interrupt?”

He only nods in response.

“What were you thinking about?”

Eddie exhales a long breath before answering. “You,” he finally answers. “And th-that shirt you wore yesterday.” His cock twitches at the mere reminder of it.

You grin knowingly. You’d bought it at the mall specifically because of its low-cut neckline, hoping it would catch Eddie’s attention.

Apparently, it very much had.

“You liked it?”

“Loved it.” He starts stroking himself again, almost unaware of his own movements. “Want you to wear it every damn day,” he adds with a hoarse chuckle.

Swiping your tongue over your lower lip, you lean in and whisper in his ear, “What if I didn’t wear one at all?”

With that, you lift your shirt over your head and unhook your bra, letting them both fall to the ground unceremoniously. Eddie’s eyes widen, gazing at your exposed chest.

“Oh, baby,” he breathes, his free hand reaching out to touch them. His thumb grazes one nipple and he gives your breast a gentle squeeze. “Baby, they’re perfect.”

You smile, using your hip to nudge the table away and get on your knees in front of him. “Keep going, Eds.”

He nods again, shifting forward a bit so you’re between his legs. “Gonna…gonna cum all over these perfect tits,” he grunts. “Please. Please, I gotta…”

“You can cum on them, Eds.”

And, fuck, does he. Thick ropes spill out of his cock, painting your chest in a sticky film. He’s crying out your name as he does it, milking every last drop.

He floats down from the high, staring at your chest and admiring the way he’s claimed you. “That…wow,” he manages, laughing nervously. “Let me clean you up.” He reaches for the tissues, wiping whatever is still leaking out of him before sopping up the mess on your breasts.

“I don’t know where we go from here,” he admits sheepishly, wadding up the Kleenex and tossing it into the trash. “Like, do I take you on a date? Bend you over the table?” He says the second option teasingly, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t turn you down if you agreed to it.

You re-clasp your bra and shrug on your shirt. “We could try a date,” you say as casually as you can.

“Dinner and a movie?”

“I’ll wear that shirt.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #smut #requests

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barcaatthemoon · 10 days

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good times || leah williamson x reader ||

you and leah celebrate arsenal winning the conti cup.

minos dni, 18 +, smut ahead

you had certain expectations for the morning after the final. leah had been buzzed before she reached the locker room after the game. the party continued after everybody had left the stadium. it was an absolute rager as the team bounced around a couple of different clubs and bars. you knew that eventually, leah would want you, but you had expected one to two business days for her hangover.

fortune it seemed to be on leah's side because she woke up that next morning without so much as a simple headache. you hadn't done a lot of drinking, prepared to take care of your favorite of arsenal's captains.

"c'mere," leah mumbled as she wrapped her arms around your waist from behind. you had woken up quite a bit earlier than leah, who had taken her sweet time joining you after her alarm went off. you had wondered what had taken her so long to come down.

"leah." you let out a gasp as you felt the hard toy between her legs. leah's lips curled into a smirk as she pressed her mouth against the side of your neck. she didn't give you any kisses, instead going straight to biting. "fuck!"

"gladly," leah chuckled. she pushed your hips flush against the counter as she nudged your legs apart. you let out a choked moan as leah's thigh slotted between your legs and pressed against your cunt. "you have no idea how crazy you were driving me last night."

"show me," you told her. your voice was already a little shaky, and leah was relishing in it. she loved hearing you try to string sentences together when her face was buried in between your legs. your head always seemed to spin in the same circles that her tongue made around your clit.

"this isn't where i'm meant to eat you," leah said as she picked you up. you giggled and squealed, sounds that leah loved just as much as your moans. she laid you out on the dining room table and hooked her fingers around the waistband of your shorts. "are you sure that this is okay? you really want this, pretty baby?"

"yes, i want this. i want you, leah," you answered confidently. leah smiled as she pulled your pants and underwear down. she licked her lips as she took in the sight of you. you weren't soaking wet or anything, but leah knew that she could quickly change that.

she leaned over to push your shirt up, sighing happily as the new skin was revealed, "pretty baby." the compliments and praise were cut short as leah trailed kisses across your chest. her hands moved along your sides before settling over your breasts. they seemed to fit perfectly, just like so many things with you and leah.

leah kept her hands there as her mouth trailed down your body. she didn't bother teasing you for very long. you realized quickly that leah wanted to make you cum. she was riding the high of winning the cup and always claimed that making a pretty girl like you cum only made it so much better. you thought about the first time that she had told you that, whenever the two of you were curled up in bed together after the euros.

you were visibly much more wet than you had been moments before. leah moaned at the taste of you on her tongue. she lapped at your cunt, caring more about enjoying herself for the moment than being precise. you could tell that you weren't going to last long with the pressure she was using with her tongue. you were practically a goner the moment she added her fingers to the mix. leah knew how to hit every spot perfectly, scissoring her fingers just slightly to stretch you out before she stood up.

"shh, it's okay. i'm right here, pretty baby," leah cooed. you had whined at the loss of contact, bucking your hips forward to try and chase after her. leah grabbed onto your hips and yanked you towards the end of the table. she bottomed out on the first thrust, pushing forward until she absolutely couldn't anymore.

"like that, please. i want you to fuck me like this," you told her. leah spread your legs as far open as she could as she thrust as deeply into you as possible. you wished that leah had picked a longer strap, but you knew that it would have taken you a lot more preparation to take something much bigger than this.

still, leah made sure that you felt absolutely every single thrust. her strokes were long and deep, but also forceful. leah put all of her focus into fucking you. she could hear the table creaking with each of her thrusts, but she kept going with no thought to the sturdiness. all leah cared about was watching you absolutely come apart on her cock.

you barely had time to catch your breath after your first orgasm before leah was pulling you onto your feet. the couch was much closer than the bed was, so leah took you there. she sat down first before pulling you onto her lap. she situated you in a position to ride her, but didn't force you down onto the dildo until you were ready.

"off," you mumbled as you pawed at her shirt. leah let you pull it off of her, but quickly took your hands in hers.

"ride me," leah told you. she draped your arms around the back of her neck as she shifted her hips. the head of the dildo ran through your folds, bumping your clit just enough to make your hips jolt forward. "give me a good show, okay?"

"whatever you want." you let leah align the toy with your entrance before you sank down onto it. this time, there was no resistance as you began to move up and down. leah's mouth fell open as she watched it disappear inside of you.

you felt her hand grab onto your jaw, prying your mouth open just enough to lick into it. you could taste yourself on her tongue. leah's fingers slipped into your mouth as she pulled out of the kiss. she started to fuck your mouth at the same speed that you fucked yourself on her strap.

leah looked absolutely enamored with you as she watched. you ignored the ache in your legs to keep going. leah's eyes bounced back and forth from your face to your cunt. she seemed completely unable to make up her mind for what she wanted to see, not that you had any complaints.

"lee," you whined. leah seemed to know exactly what you were going to say as she pulled you towards her. she pressed her lips to yours, silencing your whines and whimpers as you started to cum again. this time, you had to completely stop as you came down. leah kept peppering your face and neck in kisses even after you started to try and turn away from her. "out, please."

"i'm sorry, pretty baby," leah apologized as she pulled out of you. she let you lay on her lap for a couple of moments as your body tried to recover a bit. you felt boneless, like leah had fucked every ounce of strength out of you. that feeling didn't last for more than a few minutes, and once it was gone, leah was leading you into the bathroom to wash up. it was the guest one, so it wasn't as nice as the one attached to her bedroom, but for a quick shower, it was perfect. "you did so good for me."

"you wanted more though," you stated. leah didn't refute it, but she kept her little praises coming.

"i'll happily take whatever you want to give me, okay? nothing more, never ever more than what you can handle," leah assured you. she pressed a kiss to the top of your head as she wrapped you up in a fluffy towel. "now, let's order something nice in for lunch. i can handle that if you'll put a movie on the tv for me."

"what about clothes?" you asked her.

"don't need them. i'm not done admiring yet," leah told you. she pinched your butt as she walked past you. you followed leah into the bedroom, curious as to whether or not she was being serious. when you found yourself being wrapped up in a blanket and directed towards the couch, you got your answer. leah had only reluctantly put on clothes to get the food, but they were promptly removed when she rejoined you on the couch.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso smut #leah williamson smut #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #minors dni #minors do not interact

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awfcspencer · 3 months

Text

Steal Your Heart || alessia russo x reader

prompt: Loosely based on this request

warnings: None!

Stepping on the Arsenal training pitch, you were greeted by the familiar sounds of football, shouts and laughter echoing across the field, and the thud of balls being kicked. You couldn’t help but feel a mixture of excitement and nerves, a sense of anticipation in the air. As Arsenal’s newest transfer during the January window, you were eager to prove yourself on the pitch and cement yourself as a vital piece to North London. Having recently arrived at the club after a particularly rough break up, you were determined to focus solely on your football career, swearing off love in the process.

Your attention was soon drifted away from your thoughts to a familiar figure of Alessia Russo, one of Arsenal’s beloved strikers and England’s star girl.

“Did she just trip over her own two feet?” You questioned to Leah, the blonde center back who was put in charge of showing you around the Arsenal facility before training. Pointing to the slightly taller blonde who seemingly tripped over thin air and fell roughly onto the pitch. She ungracefully pushed herself up off the ground, wiping her now pitch-stained knees, and shuffled around to act as if nothing happened.

“She probably did. That is Alessia, most of us call her Less though. She will most likely be the clumsiest person you will ever meet.” She explained to you as your mouth curved into a small smile. Her cheeks were rosy, most likely from embarrassment, but you found it adorable.

She then led you to a man in unusually larger puffer jacket and several of Arsenal staff members you had met earlier in the day.

“Welcome to the Arsenal. We are thrilled to have you here.” The Swedish man told you, reaching out to shake your hand. The weather in London was much colder than you were used to, but you didn’t suppose a sunny day like today warranted such a big jacket. You had to carefully stifle back your laugh and cover it up with a warm smile as you shook his hand. “Hope Leah was sufficient in her tour.”

“Yeah she was great! Showed me the important stuff and introduced me to Win.” A dimpled smile as you remember the chocolate lab who you gave several scratches on the head to, and then she rewarded you with a few licks to the face.

“Great! Girls get in partners, and we will begin training.” He yelled out.

Most of the girls already had their designated partners, quickly picking each other and heading towards the pitch, so you were left stumbling to find someone to partner up with. A tap on your shoulder and a slight swivel of your head you were met with the familiar figure of the blonde from before.

“Partners?”

“Sure…” She had yet to properly introduce herself directly.

“Alessia, but most people call me Less.” She responded quickly.

Kicking the ball back and forth warming up the legs, you and Alessia fell into a comfortable conversation. She had a particularly bubbly personality and seemed interested in the answers you had given to her questions. You couldn’t help but feel drawn to Alessia and her awkward charm.

“How are you liking North London?” She sent you a solid pass to your right foot as you kicked it back to her.

“I landed only a few days ago so I haven’t really had the time to explore yet.” Apartment hunting had taken a majority of your time, but you were dying to experience what this side of London had to offer.

Fortunately, your sister lived in London, and you were able to crash on her guest bed before you had the time to sort out an apartment for yourself. She was there for you over the phone to pick up the pieces of your broken heart when rumors of cheating flooded into social media after your ex was caught bringing another woman to your shared home when you were on national team duty. The Arsenal bid came a few days later and you gladly accepted, fleeing the city in which haunted your memories.

“I get that. There is a coffee shop right near training grounds that has coffee to die for. You have to give it a try sometime.” She suggested.

Weaving in between agility poles interlocked with your teammate’s hands was not initially how you thought today’s training was going to go, but the blonde’s angelic laugh behind you as you pulled her hand to follow in your trail was all worth it. Especially when she had been moving so fast to keep up with you that by the time she left the poles she stumbled out tripping over her own feet once again.

“Less you might be the clumsiest person I have ever met, and we just met. That is what, the second fall today?” Alessia’s infectious laughter filled the air.

The flush of her cheeks you assumed was from her second wipeout mixed with the sun beating down on her during training. Nonetheless, you found her little blush cute and as cliché as it sounded, small butterflies filled your stomach. Quickly you let those thoughts flee your mind, you were here at Arsenal to focus on football.

“Oh whatever.” She giggled, gently brushed your shoulder, pushing you forward on the pitch. Her touch was electric, sending little chills down your back.

Despite your initial nerves, training was well underway, and you felt confident.

“Nice pass!” Alessia exclaimed, a wide smile lighting up her face as she received the ball. She had a smile that you felt could light up even the gloomiest of days.

“Why thank you Miss Russo,” you replied, returning Alessia’s smile with one of your own.

As the two of you trained together, you couldn’t help but draw near the girl and be amazed at the way she moved on the pitch. Her movements were graceful on the ball but as soon as she wasn’t doing something football related, she immediately acted as if she had two left feet. She was captivating in a way you couldn’t explain.

----------

It was a few weeks later and you had fully set into your place at Arsenal, making solid connections with a majority of the girls and finding success on the pitch. One specific connection with a certain blonde striker who felt like a beautiful ray of sunshine who made you question several things. Alessia and you had solidified each other as designated partners for training. The two of you had formed a close bond, she was calming to talk to, and her puppy-like personality made her warm to be around.

“Team movie night at my house tonight, attendance is mandatory.” Leah yelled throughout the changing room after training. She used her fake stern voice that she typically used during pre-match huddles to let everyone know she was serious about the event.

Turning to look at Less, “Are you going to go?” Her cubby was to the left of yours which meant every day you would return home with her vanilla scent cemented in your nose.

Looking up from mindlessly scrolling on her phone, she met your eyes, “I’ll be there if you will.” Sending you a cheeky wink, returning the smile you had sent her.

Overhearing your conversation Leah yelled “You both better be there. No excuses.”

Mimicking her attitude and batting your eyes to Alessia which only caused the two of you to break out into laughter. It was a typical scene your teammates had come to realize. The two of you in your own little world, most of the time giggling at some sort of joke one of you had made. You and Alessia had become close very quickly and there were some lingering thoughts of a possible relationship with the striker, but each time you forced the thoughts out of your mind.

Your sister had thankfully drove you over to the England’s skippers’ home, you had stopped on the way at the store and grabbed a couple bags of chocolates to share with the team. Secretly, the chocolates you had picked out where a favorite of Alessia’s that she had mentioned one day during training.

Inside Leah’s home, a few team members had arrived before you and were grilling Alessia for not making a move on you yet. They watched the way the two of you interacted, and the way Alessia suddenly became a bundle of nerves around you.

“Come on Less, you’re in love with her. I’ve never seen you so nervous to just be around someone, and I’ve known you for years!” Lotte told Alessia, Leah, and Lia who were sat around the kitchen island.

“She just got out of a relationship and who knows even if she feels the same way?” Alessia had been secretly falling for you, but she had trouble figuring out if you had felt the same way. You confided in the girl about your last relationship and your solemn swear to focus on your professional career.

A knock at the door brought them out of the conversation as Leah opened the door and allowed you in.

Leah’s living room was transformed into a cozy area with blankets and pillows spread out wide and popcorn at the ready. It was a challenge to fit almost twenty women into a room, but the greatest challenge was trying to figure out a movie that everyone could collectively agree on.

You found yourself slotted next to Alessia on a plush cushion as you let the girls around you argue about what they wanted. Thankfully, Leah made an executive decision, declaring that since it was her house meant that she had final say, and turned on a rom-com. Every so often your shoulders would brush against the blondes in the dim light. Despite every intent you made to remain guarded and build a strong wall around your heart, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort in Alessia’s presence.

As the movie played on the screen, you learned against the blonde, her warm seeping into your skin with a small blanket over the two of you. A feeling of contentment washing over you as you watched the movie together. Even in the low light, you could see Alessia’s crimson red cheeks.

When the movie came to an end far too soon for your liking, Alessia and you had yet to move until your phone began pinging. Your sister had been called into work and was unable to pick you up. You first thought about taking an Uber home, not wanting to inconvenience anyone, but you decided to ask first.

“Hey, can anyone take me home?” you asked.

“I can, only if you want though. I’m sure anyone could,” she mumbled out, her voice was soft and gentle.

“I would love for you to be my chauffeur Less.” Quickly accepting the offer with a shy smile and a small flutter of excitement in your chest at the prospect of spending more time with her.

The streets of London were quiet as Alessia drove you home. You found yourself stationed in her passenger seat opening up to her in ways you hadn’t with anyone else. Sharing stories and dreams as if you had known each other for years. You both shared your hope and dreams, your fears and insecurities, and once again you couldn’t help but feel a sense of a deeper connection growing between the two of you. Your conversations flowed effortlessly, each word building a bridge between you two, it was something you usually found difficult, but with Less it was always easy.

Before you knew it, you had arrived home. Ushering the girl a handful of thank you’s and sealing it with a side hug. But before you could say goodbye and exit the car, Alessia grabbed your wrist.

“Hey, would you like me to drive you to training tomorrow morning? We can stop at the coffee shop I told you about? It is cool if not, no worries.” Alessia said softly, her voice was filled with nerves.

Your heart soared at the invitation and eagerly accepted the invitation, “That sounds lovely, see you tomorrow Less.” You were secretly counting down the hours until you could see Alessia again.

The next morning, Alessia arrived right on time and drove the two of you to the coffee shop. In the car, Alessia even let you play your music, something you knew was not allowed to many of your other teammates because everyone knew Alessia’s car was like her baby. Alessia’s eyes sparkled in the soft morning light as she drove.

Alessia ordered her drink and yours and you tried to hand the blonde your card to pay but she insisted she would pay.

“Less please let me pay, as a thank you for driving me yesterday and today,” shoving the card more in the striker’s face. She simply resisted, handing the barista her card as a loud huff left your mouth.

“You can pay for the next one.” She told you, sending you a wink.

“Who says I want to get coffee again?” Pretending to be upset, crossing your arms and turning towards the window.

She quickly became nervous, mumbling out words you couldn’t even begin to depict.

“Less. Less, I am just joking with you.” A fond smile tugged at your lips.

“Right. Yeah I knew that.” Her fake confidence only made you laugh. She handed you your drink as your fingers brush, its quick but it lights a familiar fire in your stomach. A feeling you were beginning to have around her often. As you arrived at the training ground, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were exactly where you needed to be- with Alessia by your side, making you laugh and smile like no one else could.

----------

The first game you would be playing in the Arsenal red was against Watford for the FA’s Women’s Cup. You had a clear prematch routine, one that always ended with braiding your hair. In the changing rooms, you were nearly finished with the last section of your hair when Alessia walked in.

“I like your hair.” She complimented. She carefully watched in a slight trance.

“I can braid yours like mine if you want?” You asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips. Alessia looked up at you, eyes widening at the offer.

She nodded eagerly, stationing herself bent in front of you, allowing you to gently gather her hair in your hands. You watched in the mirror as Alessia closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of your fingers weaving through her hair. You finished the braid relatively quickly as Alessia had shorter hair, securing the braid with a small hair tie.

“All done.” Admiring your handywork in the mirror. “You look beautiful Less.” You couldn’t help but admire her beauty as well. The way the sunlight caught her hair on the pitch, the curve of her jawline, or the softness of her lips.

Alessia looked at herself in the mirror, a smile spreading across her face, “Looks amazing, thank you.”

She sealed the deal with a quick peck to your cheek, and a hug that lasted a little longer than it should, leaving you a puddle as she left. You couldn’t help but feel the warmth that lingered in your chest, a feeling that perhaps there was something more than a friendship blossoming between you and the striker.

----------

Maybe you should have followed in Jona’s footstep in wearing a large puffer because several days later you found yourself sick. What made it worse is that you were supposed to be going out with the team to celebrate the next international window break. You had been looking forward to celebrating the evening but now found yourself bedridden and alone.

You quickly sent the group chat a message saying you would not be in attendance and found yourself cuddled up on the couch with piles high of blankets and reruns of Love Island on your television.

A knock on your door surprised you. You blinked in confusion, wondering who could possibly be visiting you. You dragged yourself from the couch and made your way to the door.

Alessia stood on your doorstep with a worried look on her face. In her hands, she held a steaming bowl of soup covered with a lid.

“Less what are you doing here? You should be out celebrating?” Your voice thick with surprise.

“I heard you were sick,” Alessia said softly, her voice filled with concern. “My mom used to always made me this soup when I would get sick. She says it’s her secret recipe for curing colds.”

There was a rush of gratitude that washed over you at Alessia’s thoughtfulness. Stepping aside to let Alessia in.

“Thank you Less,” your voice soft with emotion. “That is really sweet of you.”

“It is no problem really,” she said. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.

She followed you to the couch, settling back into the warm cushion as Alessia took a seat beside you. She placed the bowl of soup in your hands and encouraged you to try some. It was delicious and you could see how it always did the trick. For a while, you and Alessia sat in comfortable silence, the only sounds in the room were the television and the metal hitting the bowl each time you brought the spoon to the bowl.

“This was really sweet of you Less.” It was like a tidal wave of emotions, the surging thoughts you had desperately tried to keep at bay so long coming to the forefront. Sat on the couch as your hands with the striker interlocked, both of you kept silent at the action.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you were about to say. “Less,” your voice barely above a whisper. “There is something I should tell you.”

Alessia turned towards you, “What is it? Is the soup not good? It’s okay I can make a different one if you would like?” she asked, her voice laced with concern. She even made movements to leave the couch, but you grabbed her hand and ushered her back down.

“I can’t pretend anymore. You need to know that I have grown to care for you, deeply.” You explained to the blonde. “I know it is kind of crazy given we’ve only known each other for a short time but I can’t shake this feeling.”

Alessia’s eyes widen with shock, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly as she struggled to find the right words.

You felt a surge of panic rising in your chest. Had you made a mistake? Had you ruined the friendship with the reckless confession?

Alessia reached out and took both of your hands in hers, her touch was warm and reassuring. “It’s you. It’s always been you. Since the day you stepped on the pitch on your first day.”

There was a surge of joy welling in your heart, a feeling of pure joy. Without another word, you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers. Your heart soaring as you felt Alessia’s strong arms wrap around you.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso blurbs #woso #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso soccer #womens soccer

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ysobelfours · 7 days

Text

Lando's First Win — LN4

in which your boyfriend won a grand prix for the first time in his career.

lando norris x fem!reader

warnings; 18+ content !! MINORS DNI !! half of the story is SMUT, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), clubbing, drunk lando, praise, hair pulling, oral both receiving, and etc. word count: 3978

note: not proofread, not edited, will maybe; also, this oneshot has no mentions of y/n!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

i was glued to the tv, watching the race like my life depended on it. man, i wish i could've been there in person, but nope, some last-minute work drama had me stuck at home. so there i was, heart pounding like crazy as i saw lando leading the pack, holding onto that sweet p1 spot with just 10 laps to go.

after a nail-biting ten laps, lando clinched his first-ever grand prix win in miami, crossing the checkered flag with style. bursting with excitement, i immediately sent him a message to offer my heartfelt congratulations. and of course, i had to capture the historic moment, snapping a quick pic of his finish on my tv screen and sharing it with the world on my instagram story.

amidst the interviews, podium celebrations, and photo ops with the mclaren team, lando's mind kept drifting back to one thing: my message. he couldn't shake the anticipation of reading my words of support, knowing that even though i couldn't be there in person, i was cheering him on from afar.

finally, as the chaotic whirlwind of post-race activities began to settle, lando seized the opportunity to check his phone. with a quick swipe, he navigated to his messages, looking for my name. his heart skipped a beat when he saw my name.

"hey baby! can't believe it, i did it!" lando greeted me as soon as i picked up his call. i could tell that he was smiling from the tone of his voice.

"oh my gosh, lan, i knew you could do it! you were incredible out there!" i excitedly responded to him.

"thanks, baby! it feels unreal. i'm just so pumped right now!"

"you should be! you deserve to celebrate this big win. any plans?"

lando pauses, thinking "hmm, not really, just thinking of winding down, you know?"

i frowned upon hearing his response, how could he not celebrate his first win properly?!

“absolutely not! you were on fire out there! you know what? you've got to celebrate this win properly." i rolled my eyes as the words came out of my mouth.

lando laughs, "yeah, baby? you think? got any suggestions?" he asks eagerly.

i started to think and an idea popped up in my gorgeous, genius mind! fortunately, i was done with the work assigned to me.

"hmm, how about a little victory party at the club? you deserve to let loose and enjoy the moment, along with the grid, ya know?!" i giggled, hoping that he would agree so i could push through with my plan.

lando considers it, "you might be right, sweetheart. but i'm not sure…" he sounded sarcastic on the other line, probably just to tease me. i sighed and rolled my eyes, again.

"come on, lan! you've worked so hard for this. make some memories! trust me, you won't regret it." i demanded, hoping that he would agree now.

lando was obviously smiling "alright, you've convinced me! let's do it!"

"that's the spirit! now go have some fun, and i'll catch up with you later, lan, okay?":

“sounds like a plan! love you, baby!”

"love you too! enjoy the celebration!"

as lando hangs up, little does he know that i've already booked a two hour long flight to miami along with a suite, determined to surprise him and celebrate his victory in person. with a mischievous grin, i start packing my bags, thrilled at the thought of seeing the look of surprise on his face when i show up unannounced.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

inside club velocity, the atmosphere pulsed with energy as lando, surrounded by his fellow drivers, basked in the euphoria of his first grand prix victory. the music thumped, mingling with the cheers and laughter of the crowd as they toasted to his success.

lando, wearing a grin that could light up the night sky, raised his glass in a toast, his eyes sparkling with joy and gratitude. around him, his friends and teammates clapped him on the back, their voices blending into a chorus of congratulations.

as the night wore on, the celebration only grew more spirited, with lando at the center of it all, soaking in every moment of his well-deserved triumph. little did he know, an even greater surprise awaited him, one that would make this unforgettable night even more memorable.

as soon as i finished getting ready, i messaged carlos to ask him which club they’re at.

me: "hey carlos! hope you guys are having a blast celebrating lando's win! which club are you all at?"

carlos: "hey! yeah, it's wild here! we're at club velocity on south beach. you should come join us!"

me: "awesome, thanks! see you there!" with carlos's reply in hand, i quickly went inside my rented vehicle, my heart pounding with excitement at the thought of surprising lando and joining in the celebration of his first grand prix victory.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

i got to the club as quickly as possible. still making sure that i wore my signature carol h. good girl scent.

as i approached lando, i noticed his glazed eyes scanning the crowd, seemingly lost in a haze of alcohol. but then, something shifted. his brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before his expression softened, and he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring slightly.

suddenly, his gaze sharpened, and a spark of recognition ignited in his eyes. "wait… i know that scent," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music.

a smile spread across my face as i watched him, knowing exactly what he was sensing. then, in an instant, his face lit up with realization, and he turned towards me with newfound clarity.

"it's you, baby! it’s you!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with delight as he lunged forward to envelop me in a warm embrace.

relieved and touched by his recognition, i hugged him back, feeling the tension melt away as he held me close. it was a moment of pure connection amidst the chaos of the club, a reminder of the bond we shared.

as we pulled apart, lando's grin was infectious, his eyes bright with happiness. "i can't believe you're here, baby, you’re really here" he said, his voice filled with genuine surprise and gratitude.

i chuckled, shaking my head fondly. "wouldn't miss celebrating with you, lan. even if you're a little… tipsy."

lando laughed, a sheepish expression crossing his face. "yeah, maybe i went a bit overboard."

"seriously though, you're swaying more than the palm trees outside and your words are starting to sound like a foreign language. i think it's time we got you home, don't you?"

lando slowly nods sheepishly "yeah, you're probably right. i guess i got caught up in the moment." he giggled and pinched my cheek.

“i missed you so much, baby. i love you” he whispered in my ear, lightly biting it. i couldn't help my cheeks from turning hot after what he said.

i struggled to make up my words before i responded, “i missed you too, lan. i love you.” i gave him a peck on the cheek and ruffled his curly hair. he smiled at me, a smile warm enough to melt my heart.

“let’s get you some rest, lan. say goodbye to the grid.” i guided lando to stand up, his hand wrapped around my waist to help him navigate his way through the crowd.

“hey guys, i just wanted to say a huge thank you for being here tonight to celebrate with lando. it means the world to him, and to me."

"of course! lando's victory is something we all wanted to celebrate together!" carlos smiled and gave lando a pat on the back.

"absolutely, it's been an amazing night. but right now, my love needs some rest. take care, everyone!"

as we exchanged farewells and well-wishes, i couldn't help but feel grateful for the support of lando's friends. with smiles and nods all around, lando quickly waved goodbye and thanked his fellow drivers.

as we navigated out the club, lando's whispers filled the air, his words a mixture of adoration and drunken rambling. "you're so beautiful, baby" he murmured, his voice filled with affection. "and i've missed you so much."

i chuckled softly, feeling a wave of warmth wash over me. "i've missed you too, lan. but let's save the sweet talk for when you're a bit more sober, alright?"

lando nodded earnestly, his gaze locking with mine. "yeah, you're right, baby. but seriously, your smell… it's intoxicating. i can't get enough of it."

grinning, i squeezed his hand gently. "thanks, love. i'll take that as a compliment, even if it's coming from a slightly intoxicated mind."

with a sheepish grin, lando leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "i mean it, though, my love. you always smell like home to me."

as i opened the door to the shotgun seat, lando stumbled slightly as he climbed in, his movements slowed by the alcohol. with a patient smile, i guided him into the seat, making sure he was settled before reaching for his seatbelt.

as i leaned over to fasten his seatbelt, lando took advantage of the close proximity and planted a quick, sneaky kiss on my neck. the unexpected gesture sent a tingling sensation through me, but i brushed it off with a playful roll of my eyes.

"behave yourself, lan," i teased, my tone lighthearted as i finished securing his seatbelt.

with a mischievous grin, lando giggled and leaned back in his seat, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. i closed the door with a soft chuckle, taking a moment to compose myself before heading around to the driver's side.

as i settled into the driver's seat and started the engine, i couldn't help but smile at the lingering warmth of lando's kiss against my neck. but with a shake of my head, i focused on the road ahead, determined to get us back to our hotel safely.

as lando drifted off to sleep beside me, his face softened into a peaceful expression. i couldn't help but admire him at that moment. here was a guy who'd poured his heart and soul into his passion, and tonight, it had paid off big time.

i thought back on all the blood, sweat, and tears he'd poured into his career, the late nights at the track, the tough races, and the moments of doubt. but through it all, he'd never given up.

now, as he slept, i saw a sense of calm wash over him, like he'd finally achieved what he'd been working towards all this time. it was a pretty amazing feeling to witness.

at that moment, i realized how lucky i was to share this journey with him. and as i stole glances at him sleeping, i couldn't help but feel a wave of pride for everything he'd accomplished.

as i shook lando awake, his sleepy voice sent a blush creeping up my cheeks. "hey, love. did we make it to the hotel already?"

i managed a smile, trying to hide my embarrassment. "yeah, we're here, sleepyhead," i replied softly, guiding him out of the car.

lando leaned heavily on me, his arm draped over my shoulder. it was a struggle to help him towards the elevator, his weight making each step a challenge.

"you're amazing, baby" lando slurred, his words sincere but slightly garbled.

i chuckled, feeling both amused and touched by his compliment. "just doing my best, lan" i replied modestly, navigating us through the lobby.

lando's closeness sent a flutter through me, his arm around my neck, dangling through my breasts as we walked made me feel the way i felt earlier when he kissed me on the neck.

as we reached the suite, i gently guided lando towards the bed, urging him to lie down and get some rest. but to my surprise, he resisted, his eyes pleading as he reached out to me.

"i don't want to sleep yet, baby" he murmured, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "i've missed you so much."

my heart skipped a beat at his words, a rush of warmth flooding through me. despite his drunken state, there was an intensity in his gaze that left me breathless.

"i've missed you too, lan," i whispered, my voice barely above a hush as i met his gaze.

“c’mere, beautiful” lando patted the space next to him in the bed, asking me to sit down beside him.

there was a charged silence between us, the air thick with unspoken desires and yearning. in that moment, it felt as if time stood still, the world narrowing down to just the two of us in the dimly lit room.

and then, almost as if on instinct, lando's hand reached out to cup my cheek, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. the intensity of his gaze held me captive, drawing me closer until our lips were mere inches apart.

without a word, our lips met in a tender, lingering kiss, a silent expression of all the emotions that had been building between us. it was a kiss filled with longing and desire, a silent promise of what was to come.

"so beautiful, my love," lando mumbled in between our kisses, his voice thick with emotion. "you don't know how long i've waited for this."

his words sent a thrill through me, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between us for far too long. with each touch of his lips against mine, i felt myself melting into him, consumed by the heat of our passion.

our kisses deepened, each one more fervent than the last, as if we were trying to convey all the pent-up longing and desire that had been simmering between us for so long. "tastes like heaven, baby" lando murmured between kisses, his voice husky with desire.

"i've missed this so much, lan" i confessed, my breath hitching as his fingers traced patterns along my skin.

lando paused, his touch gentle yet charged with an electric intensity. "i've missed this just as much, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. "more than words can say."

his hands roamed over to my wet panties that sent shivers down my spine, igniting a hunger that burned hotter with each passing moment. "you're so beautiful, and wet for me, baby" he whispered, his voice filled with reverence as he started to play with my clit.

i arched into his touch, wordlessly urging him closer, craving the delicious friction of our bodies melding together. "don't stop," i pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper as the sensations threatened to overwhelm me.

two of his fingers slipped inside me, and i found myself clutching his hair. “don’t stop, lan. more, please,” i urged, my voice tinged with urgency and longing. and, as always, he delivered without hesitation.

“so wet for me, and only for me, baby,” he murmured against my skin, his tone raw with desire, igniting a primal spark within me.

lando's eyes darkened with hunger as he drew nearer, his breath a tantalizing caress against my ear. "you're mine," he whispered, possessiveness lacing his words, sparking a thrill of excitement in my chest. "all mine."

a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine at his words, a silent agreement to the intensity of our connection. "yes, lan," i responded softly, the words barely escaping my lips, "only yours."

with a shared understanding, he guided me onto his waiting mouth, each movement charged with unspoken longing.

“want to taste you so bad, baby,” he growled softly, his breath warm against my skin as his tongue danced with mine, exploring every curve and crevice with eager reverence.

“tastes damn good, pretty girl,” he rasped, his voice a husky murmur of appreciation as he savored the intimacy of the moment.

with every lick, i felt myself edging closer to the end, our bodies moving in sync, a symphony of pleasure and desire. he quickened the pace, driving me towards the edge until i was teetering on the brink, my senses ablaze with sensation.

"fuck, lan. i’m so fucking close," i moaned, the words tumbling from my lips in a breathless plea for release.

i hit my breaking point, just lost in the moment, riding that wave of pure pleasure, my voice echoing in the silence of the room.

as i caught my breath, i gazed at lando with a sense of wonder, gratitude swelling in my chest for the connection we shared.

“c’mere, pretty. take my pants off for me, will ya?” he said, his voice tinged with anticipation. and without hesitation, i obliged, eager to reciprocate the pleasure he had just given me.

as i removed his pants, his eyes locked onto me, filled with unmistakable desire. when he pulled out his length from his boxers, i was taken aback; it seemed even bigger than before.

lando noticed my gulp as i stared at him, clearly turned on by my reaction.

without warning, he guided himself into my mouth, gently gathering my hair into a makeshift ponytail as he directed my movements.

"i missed this fucking mouth," lando grunted, his hand instinctively moving my head forward and backward until his length reached my throat.

“ah, fuck, baby, your mouth feels incredible,” he moaned, his eyes closing in pleasure as he savored the sensations. releasing his grip on my head, he allowed me full control.

i licked the tip of his shaft teasingly, before gradually taking him deeper until i reached his base. “you're so fucking beautiful like this, love. such a good girl, taking me fully” he struggled to praise, his words punctuated by moans of pleasure.

each sound he made spurred me on, igniting a deeper desire within me. with passion driving me, i gave him my all, the rhythm of my mouth against his cock filling the room.

“so good with your mouth like this, love. fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he thrust his hips, his movements growing more urgent.

“baby, i’m about to cum,” he warned between moans. i yearned for him to finish so we could move on to the next stage; my anticipation palpable.

“i’m cumming, baby. fuck, i’m cumming. you’re so fucking good at this, my love,” he smiled appreciatively as i swallowed, clearly impressed and aroused by my eagerness.

turning me around, he instructed, “on your knees, my love.”

"lando," i breathed, my voice a mix of warning and longing, almost on the edge of a whine. my legs remained spread as i faced away from him, fighting the urge to squirm, my patience wearing thin.

lando's grin widened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as his hands pushed my legs further apart, positioning himself at the entrance of my wetness.

"you look stunning from this angle, love," he hummed, his voice laced with teasing sweetness. "you need me badly, don’t you, love?" his length traced over my folds teasingly, sending shivers down my spine.

though i hesitated to admit it, i couldn't deny the truth as my hips involuntarily bucked upwards, a strangled moan escaping me when he pinched my clit.

"i need you," i whimpered almost shamefully, my head falling back in surrender. "so bad, lan."

"i need you inside me," i mumbled, making his smirk return.

"missed you so fucking much," he hisses, parting my legs further as my breath got faster.

"missed you too, lan" i assured him, a moan slipping past my lips as i felt his tip pressing against my folds, though he made no further movements. i pushed my hip back to feel his length.

his hand tangling in my hair and creating a makeshift ponytail ─ one he tugged on immediately, forcing my head up.

"use your words, m' love" lando's lips grazed my ear, his cock still lightly pressing against my entrance, causing me to cry out.

"i want you to fuck me," i whined, rushing my words out as my hips pressed backward.

"need you, lan, please," i whimpered, sounding desperate.

he entered me without warning, bottoming out as my walls wrapped around him, our gasps mingling as i gripped the bedsheets below.

"always taking me so well," lando grunted in my ear as his thrusts became rougher, deeper, ensuring i felt every inch of him.

every movement sent pleasure coursing through my body, my moans filling the room as i surrendered to the pleasure.

"you feel amazing, lan," i stumbled out, my eyes rolling back as my body melted under his touch.

lando, too, seemed lost in the sensation, his head thrown back as he moved with purpose, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room.

"does it feel good?" his question was rhetorical, just a way to chase praise, but i could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences.

i nodded, the only response i could manage in his hold.

"damn, you're just perfect, baby," lando grunted, his kiss on my shoulder was gentle compared to what was happening between my legs.

it was almost too much, the tears and whimpers making it clear i was close to another climax. and just the thought had him reaching his own peak.

"cum on my cock, baby. cum for me," he urged in my ear, sending shivers down my spine as my second orgasm hit. i practically screamed, going limp in his arms.

feeling me tighten around him had him climaxing too, groaning as he leaned against me, both of us catching our breath.

his touches became softer as he pulled away, guiding me to lean against the counter. we fell into a comfortable silence, his hands gentle on my waist.

"wanna hop in the shower?" lando's voice broke the quiet, a grin spreading across his face, and i felt a wave of relief.

i grinned back and nodded, and he chuckled, lifting me effortlessly and carrying me off to the bathroom.

after a relaxing shower together, we dried off and crawled into bed, exhausted yet content. the weight of the day's activities and the intimacy we shared left us feeling pleasantly worn out.

"baby, that was something else," lando chuckled, his arm wrapping around me as he pulled me close. his laughter was infectious, echoing the contentment that filled the room.

"definitely," i agreed, snuggling against him. the warmth of his body against mine was comforting, a tangible reminder of the bond we shared.

in the morning, we woke to the gentle rays of sunlight streaming through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. the tranquility of the moment was almost tangible as we lay intertwined, basking in the quiet stillness of the early hours.

"morning, love," lando greeted me with a smile, his eyes filled with affection as he pressed a tender kiss to my lips. the warmth of his lips against mine was a sweet welcome to the new day.

"morning, sleepyhead," i teased, returning his kiss with a playful grin.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

hope u enjoyed reading my first fan-fic <3 feel free to give prompts and request !! enjoy !

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musingsofanaroace · 15 days

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Coming Out as AroAce-Things People Say

Here's a list of things people have said to me when I came out as AroAce to them.

It's just a phase.

I can fix you.

Doctor House cured someone who thought they were asexual. Perhaps you just need to see a doctor.

Maybe you just haven't met the right person yet.

Don't worry, you're still young. When you get older, you'll change your mind. (Note: I was twenty-five!)

You just made up this sexual orientation because you want to feel special.

You'll be alone forever.

I'm sure you'll find someone. Don't give up hope!

What do you mean you don't feel sexual and romantic attraction? Everyone does. Maybe there's something wrong with you that a doctor can fix.

Does that mean you want to become a nun?

That's not a real thing. Surely, you're making that up.

How sad. You're so pretty! Is there a cure?

I'll pray for you. I'm sure Jesus can set you on the path of righteousness and make you whole once more. My church meets on Saturdays. Do you want to go with me? The pastor is the kindest soul you could ever meet. I'm sure he could help you.

Oh, you're just scared to date someone. You know, I have a friend who's really nice. Do you want his number?

Are you sure you're not just a lesbian?

What's that? It sounds like the name of a stripper club.

Perhaps if you wore makeup and grew out your hair, you could get a boyfriend. No problem.

How interesting! I never heard of such a thing before. Huh...You learn something new everyday.

That makes sense.

AroAce? What's that? Is it contagious?

That's cool. Do you AroAce people have your own flag? (Blank stare from me.) Sorry, I just really love flags. (I show him the flag.) Wow! It reminds me of the beach.

A isn't for ally? Are you sure? I read on a forum a while back that the A stood for ally. Maybe you got your facts mixed up.

Don't be silly. There's no such thing as an AroAce. Stop making things up!

sister's boyfriend: You're f-- delusional! AroAce isn't a thing. You just can't accept the fact that no one wants to date a psychotic b--. You don't stand a f-- chance of getting a boyfriend until you get some psychiatric help first. (Note: Fortunate for him, I kept my cool and didn't push him down the stairs.)

Well, that's all I remember/have written down. Until next time, take care and stay curious.

#lgbtqia #aroace #aromantic #asexual #aphobia

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wriothesleybear · 6 months

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~warnings: modern!au, mostly fluff with a little bit of smut (i couldn't help myself), mentions of creampies, gn!reader(hopefully i did it right this time), MDNI!

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who's the #1 boxing champion with a high winning streak. He's on the cover of magazines and has a lot of fame and fortune, which he uses to spoil you. Buying you fancy clothes, expensive jewelry, taking you to the most expensive restaurants, and just buying you whatever you want. You tell him that he doesn't have to spend so much money on you, but he just grabs your hand, kissing it while telling you that it makes him happy spoiling you with gifts. How could you deny him happiness.

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who works out with you. He either has you sit on his back while he does pushups or has you lay below him where every time he pushes down, he kisses you. Sometimes, it just ends up in a long, passionate make out session. Maybe something a little more *wink wink*. Just seeing you all sweaty and breathing heavily as you work out near him. Seeing you stretch your limbs, especially the one stretch that gives him a good view of your ass, makes it hard for him to control himself.

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who saves a front row seat for you to his fights so you are able to watch him better. When he needs the motivation during his fight, he looks out in the crowd searching for you. Once his eyes land on you, he smiles and winks at you, gaining the motivation to fight and wanting to make you proud. It makes him happy seeing you supporting him in the stands, cheering for him, and screaming his name. If you make him a little sign, it'll make his heart skip a beat.

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who immediately looks for you after a fight. Once he spots you, he heads straight for you, pulling you into a tight hug. Even though he's all sweaty and musky, you don't mind, wrapping your arms around his neck. He passionately kisses you in front of the crowd. It shows how much you mean to him. Plus, it's his way to thank you for being there for him and supporting him.

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who melts when you give him massages to help him relax his sore muscles. Your massages especially help him when he's stressed for an upcoming fight. All worries leave his mind once your soft hands explore his body. He groans when you push on the right spots where he's the most tense.

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who enjoys the celebratory sex you two have after he wins a fight. You prefer 'celebrating' at home, but sometimes when he's still full of adrenaline from the fight, he can't help taking you right there in the locker rooms. You could do it in his personal dressing room like usual, but he thinks its much more exciting with the risk of being caught. Your moans echoing in the empty space, the sounds of your ass slapping against his pelvis, getting him closer to the edge. It's not a celebration if it doesn't end in him creampieing you.

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who loves the gentle care you put in when patching up his wounds, making sure to carefully patch them up so as not to irritate them. After you finish patching him up, you smother him in kisses, making sure to add extra ones on his boo-boos. Moments like these remind him how lucky he is to have you. He should do something about that. Maybe a ring will do..

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who buys you a big, fat diamond ring. He plans this whole special proposal for you. He takes you out to dinner, feeding you the most delicious foods. Once stuffed, he takes you to a movie, where he rented out the whole theater just for you two. After the movie, he takes you to the small boxing club where you two first met. He thinks it's the perfect place to propose. He leads you into the center of the boxing ring, holding your hands as he gives you a speech about how much you mean to him. Then he gets down on one knee and pulls out a red box, holding the most gorgeous ring you've ever seen. You can't help the tears from flowing as you say yes. Once he slips the ring on your finger, you jump into his arms, tightly hugging him and pulling him into a kiss. You both end the night making passionate love in your shared bed, fingers intertwined as he slowly pumps into you, filling you up with his seed.

#wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #wriothesley smut #genshin impact smut #wriothesley fluff

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thepermanentrainpress · 2 years

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Gallery: renforshort @ Fortune Sound Club - Vancouver, BC Date: October 7th, 2022 Photographed by: Zachary Vague

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granddaughterogg · 2 months

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You Let Me Complicate You - Part 3

SUMMARY: Simon "Ghost" Riley is a consummate fuckboy who uses fleeting trysts to blow off steam collected at his deadly job. You - the Reader - are a cynical, world weary girl with a penchant for one night stands. None of you are prepared for the horror of Actually Falling In Love. Also - the mask stays on for ridiculously long. Tags: From Sex to Love, Flirting, Random Encounters, First Impressions, One Night Stands, Dirty Talk, Swearing. So. Much. Swearing, Reader Gets Harassed By Assholes, Simon Beats Up An Asshole, Rough Sex. It's all fully consensual tho!

PART 2 HERE

Music pulsated in your temples, but you've completely lost the will to dance. Streaks of murky blue light cut across the dance floor, where the crowd rippled along with the rhythm. You made yourself comfortable on the plush sofa and watched people for a while. Fortunately, this mass of heads, arms and legs in motion was dense enough to hide that wired fucker from your sight.

You hoped to never see him again.

The one you wanted to see has vanished into thin air like Cinderella. A Cinderella who was six feet four, great at chatting women up and built like a wrestler. Who smelled like a heady mix of drugstore cologne, expensive whisky, sweat – and for some fucking reason also like fireworks.

Could it be that his ride has turned into a pumpkin? You would start to ask yourself whether you've imagined him – the man was larger than life after all – but you could still taste that smokey, alcoholic kiss on your lips.

A kiss which was deranged and therefore unforgettable.

You'd have to wipe your brain with a Scrub Daddy to get rid of that memory.

Son of a bitch.

Disappeared, but left the bottle. He clearly had money to throw around.

You ignored the liquor, pouring yourself a healthy glass of water instead.

It seemed that life had offered you an abrupt comedown from this short, all-consuming high. You sat and swallowed tasteless liquid in a sober – and sombre - manner, considering your options.

Option 1. You could go ask that bartender with the face like a slapped arse whether he's seen your beau around. Which surely would be Humiliating.

Option 2. You could give up on vanishing hunks and go home. Which was probably the sensible option, if one you didn't feel like taking.

Option 3. You could do what you usually did whenever life served you with a plot twist: have a smoke break.

You were a woman of culture and therefore perfectly aware that those days, smoking is bad form – almost as much as admitting that one does not intend to go vegan. But then, you were also sensible and knew what kind of end awaits persistent cigarette enthusiasts. A cough which sounds just like torn cardboard, a tracheotomy, or death.

The thing is, you've always considered the spectacle of smoking one of the sexiest feats for a man to perform, while the taste of nicotine soothed your nerves and restored you to the state of being serenely one with the universe. All those vapes smelling of fucking strawberries felt as appealing as Boris Johnson's ass.

So you let out a sigh, finished your water, threw on your jacket, grabbed your umbrella and marched across the club, guessing that smokers have been traditionally banished to the outside.

The iron door creaked open like the hatch to a bank vault.

Your suspicions were correct. Nicotine hostages stood around the entrance, some on the grass, others on the cracked concrete path. Milky serpentines of smoke blew away quickly in the night wind. Fortunately, the rain had abated somewhat. Instead of an icy wave splashing in your face, you were greeted by a cold drizzle.

That you could deal with.

Unfortunately, fate had yet other things in store for you.

You've managed to pat all your jacket pockets, fish out a box of cigarettes, experience relief, because it wasn't soggy, pat your pockets again, find a lighter, and stick a fag into your mouth...It would take in this damp air, so for a moment there you focused on the wobbly little flame instead of your surroundings.

Which was a mistake.

"Need help with this, beautiful?" Asked some stranger's voice.

"Jesus on a stick", you grumbled without even bothering to meet his eye.

"I said", the voice wasn't to be deterred easily, "Do you need help?"

You looked up. Some dude has obstructed the light coming from the small bulb, hanging above the entrance in its industrial iron casing. He was big, even stocky - not as big as your fleeting masked acquaintance, naturally, but quite thick in his own right. Had a pudgy face that you wouldn't be able to describe even at the police station. The patchy beard didn't help either. That's all you could say about him because he didn't spark your interest.

"Nope", you said flatly.

"What do you mean, nope?"

The man leaned over you, hanging his head unpleasantly close. He smelled like beer and Axe body spray.

You sighed. "I mean it in general. Go away."

"But I've just come here", the dude grinned, as if he'd said something truly brilliant.

"That's not my problem."

The tip of your cigarette finally took hold of the fire. You shielded it with your palms, taking half a step away from the persistent bloke. Only a half, because the door was right behind you.

Unfortunately, your new friend wasn't about to take a hint.

"Oh come on now", he whined. "Don't be rude to me like this. Let's have a talk."

You never had a lot of patience, not even on your best days. Now it was running dangerously low.

"I don't have to be nice to you", you hissed right into his stupid grin. "I don't have to talk to you either. Go bestow the gift of your company on someone who'll enjoy it."

You've made two mistakes. The first one was assuming that gassed pick-up artists understand sarcasm. The second one was using words and not just your boot instead.

He leaned forward and grabbed your arm. It was not a firm grip, but the touch of this stranger's sweaty fingers on your skin made you nauseous.

"You don't understand how much you're fucking yourself over" - he went on in that slow, obstinate manner of a drunkard, sizing you up with a glazed look. " You're depriving yourself of a chance...yes, a chance. For something better, something to elevate that sad, lonely, fuckless life of yours! A man walks up to you like a gentleman...chimes in with utmost tact and gets mauled. Women of today don't understand -"

You didn't find out what is it that women of today don't understand. You hurled your lit cigarette straight into his panting mouth and pressed your elbow against the handle of that cursed door. It swung open with a groan - not loud enough to drown out the surprised yelp of your aggressor. He let go of your hand. You jumped inside, trying to slam that door right in his face, but even an agile woman, one well aware of her surroundings is much weaker physically than an average man.

It was a long time since you had to grasp that bitter truth because you had avoided places like this. Well, that was your reminder.

The dude broke in when you were already halfway into the dark club premises, walking as fast as possible without just bolting it.

Music blared from the speakers, making the walls tremble, but you were still aware that he was coming after you. Slow but tireless, like fucking Michael Myers. You didn't have to look over your shoulder to know. Every woman has this radar installed.

You hauled ass, pushing people aside and collecting bemused looks. You headed straight for the bar like a sailor towards a lighthouse in a storm. You intended to chain yourself to that bar; to make Geoffrey call the cops if necessary.

Eventually, you managed to come ashore. You pushed your way through the crowd of patrons queuing for a drink, ignoring their shouts of disapproval. You climbed onto the first available stool and set your elbows on that cold concrete counter. The bartender was nowhere to be seen. Ain't that just the way.

"Hey, Governor!" you hollered towards the row of glittering bottles behind the counter. "We have a problem!"

"Why hello there", said a high-pitched voice to your left. It didn't sound particularly friendly.

You jumped as if at the push of a spring, spinning around on that stool. Your heart jolted abruptly. For in the dim light, you spotted this long-haired fuckhead from the dancefloor. He sat there, measuring you with a glassy look and sporting a wide, deadpan grin.

You took a long swig of air. This was a fucking nightmare, a Halloween special, and you were drowning in it. Drowning in the waters coming up to your chin, black as ink. A woman who went out simply to have fun.

"I thought I'd find you here", he continued, his voice eerily flat, his gaze pinned to yours. "You ugly slut."

"Geoffrey, shake a leg!" you yelled into the void behind the counter.

"Think you can just walk around and kick people?" asked the long-haired man as casually as if he'd wanted your opinion on the weather. He leaned closer, adding in a low voice:

"Rabid bitches like you shouldn't be let off the chain."

From what you could gather he wasn't that muscular, but you'd already met men with such hollow eyes and a flat affect. Getting into a tussle with one of them was always a bad idea. Whatever fueled this fucker – illegal substances, his own charming personality or both - you didn't feel like dealing with it.

You jumped off the stool, putting him between you and the guy, spun on your heel...

... only to run face-first into the armpit of that specimen from the front of the club. It turned out he didn't stop his TED Talk this whole time.

"...men and women ought to be friends, there should be a sense of CAMARADERIE between them, a sense of friendship, not this, whatever this is. I am being FRIENDLY to you, I am treating you with reverence, yes, REVERENCE and what do I get in return? I swear -"

Two gorilla arms pawed at you, pressing you against his chest. Your nostrils filled with his nauseating smell and the odour of Axe. You couldn't breathe.

"...this war between the sexes must end, or you will all die alone and you'll be so UNHAPPY, you hear me?" He panted into the top of your head. "You will cry your eyes out, surrounded by sex toys and CATS instead of children -"

You gathered all your strength and pulled yourself away from the numbing stench, driving your nails into your assailant's chest. The dude yelped and let you go. You fell back, parting the crowd. Suddenly two capable hands held at your shoulders, firmly but without causing pain.

You got enveloped in the familiar mix of scents - man, cheap cologne, expensive whisky, fireworks. Oh, thank god.

"One can't leave ya alone for a minute, eh?" said Skullface, calm as ever.

You almost burst into tears of relief - and into tears of anger, too. He's left you all alone in this shithole and let it happen.

You jumped back, darting your head up to look into those dark peepers of his. There he was, all composed, towering effortlessly over everyone in sight. Tall like an unconquered mountain.

"Where the fuck were you?! I'm being harassed by creeps!"

"Plural?" The skull mask tilted in amusement, but you've noticed how his eyes swept the perimeter, and his hold on your shoulders loosened, but not to the point of release.

"You sure are popular."

You scoffed.

"This shit ain't fun. But seriously, what were you doing?"

He shrugged. With shoulders like his it was a pronounced shrug.

"Pissing."

"For that long?!"

It was an undignified squawk, but you didn't care. You were stressed. You felt scared and fed up.

The man fell silent for a moment. Then he scratched the back of his head.

"If you really need to know, I also laid a brick."

You stared at him in disbelief, but that covered face betrayed nothing, and his eyes seemed sincere.

"What? You asked", he added.

It was as if some lever had been pulled inside your stressed mind. Suddenly you no longer felt like tearing him a new one. Instead, you wanted to burst out laughing.

"Alright then. I hope you washed your hands", you murmured, stepping forward and touching the front of his hoodie. He cupped your much smaller hand in his big one, tracing over its back with his long fingers. They were so warm.

You both smiled. His eyes looked strangely charming when they creased under all that eyeshadow...or whatever that black stuff was.

"You don't have much faith in the opposite sex, don't ya."

"That's EXACTLY what I've been saying!"

The stocky dude from before emerged from the fray, pushing people aside and beelining to you as if the three of you were good friends.

"I'm trying to explain to her how DETRIMENTAL this hostile approach towards men is, but she won't listen -"

"That's Creep No. 1", you murmured.

Skullface got visibly alert. He put you right behind him, blocking access like a guard dog. He straightened up to his full impressive height, but you stuck your head out from his armpit anyway. Now that the danger has dissipated, you felt curious as to how this shit would end.

"You." Said the masked man, pointing his finger at the idiot. "Get bent."

"The fuck you saying to me, mate?" The TED Talker was clearly an obstinate drunk.

"I'm a free man, a citizen of a free country! Can do whatever and talk to whoever I please, including this stuck-up bitch right here and you can't make me -"

Skullface's long, bulky arm shot forward, hand closing around the neck of this champion of men's civil liberties. You watched, transfixed. Your eyes have barely registered movement.

"The lady doesn't want to talk to you", Skullface explained, his tone almost friendly. "You better apologise."

The other dude stared at him with bulging eyes. Then he glanced at the large hand, gripping him like a vice. He tried to swallow – not an easy feat when your airways are being compressed – and finally tapped at Skullface's hand with his own shaky fingers.

Your masked friend released him. The bloke staggered, massaging his throat and breathing heavily. He was anything but frail, clearly possessing some strength of his own. And yet there he was, reduced to an ungainly, panting mess.

"Alrighty then", he gasped. "Sorry..."

"Not to me." Skullface's already deep voice dropped a notch, dark and metallic. You felt a sudden chill licking at your spine. " To her."

The other dude cut you a quick look, his eyes wide and scared. Drunkedness has clearly been choked out of him.

"Yeah yeah, sorry to you both. Jesus, mate. Chill.."

A snigger tore out of you while you watched that asshole slink away. It felt great.

"Having fun?" Skullface's tone dripped with amusement.

"Yeah!" you admitted, stepping past his wide frame and looking him in the face. "I wish I had popcorn!"

He blinked at you. Slowly, like a pleased cat would.

"Let's go," he ordered and began pushing his way deeper into the club. You followed suit.

You two found yourselves back in that corner near the dancefloor. Skullface reached for the flask of whisky.

"We're leavin', eh?" he asked.

"Let's," you agreed. "That's enough clubbing for one day."

You looked around, searching for your jacket, but it was nowhere to be seen.

"Fuck," you hissed.

He raised his head. "What's goin' on?"

"I left my jacket at the bar. Don't disappear on me again, okay?”

"You got it."

He sat comfortably and poured himself some more liquor, downing it promptly. You wondered about this man's incredible alcohol tolerance but didn't have the time to ponder on it.

You squeezed your way back through the crowd, grappling with rapidly growing irritation. First, you'd shout "Excuse me!" again and again and then you'd just work your elbows.

You told him the truth; you were fed up with partying, with the crowd and with the noise. Wherever this masked man was going to take you would be an improvement.

You finally made it to the bar, threw your jacket on and turned on your heel, starting the journey back immediately, like a ferry connecting two shores.

"Excuse me, excuse me, oh, fuck, sorry, excuse me -"

You stumbled over someone's foot, fell face forward into their T-shirt, pushed yourself away with both hands and then got grabbed by the wrist, which someone held at and jerked it so abruptly that you heard a crunch. Your whole body pivoted, led by the force of inertia. You tried to break free but to no avail. The man twisted both your arms and pinned them to your back, his breath right in your ear, hot and stinking like beer. His words were a searing sludge of intoxication and malice.

"Sorry's not gonna be enough."

You looked up - right into the blank face of that psycho from earlier. His pupils were two black holes. Icy panic flooded your veins, raising little hairs all over your body. He was dragging you somewhere away from the bar, his grip strong and painful. He was elbowing his way through the fray, and nobody around you in this densely populated club seemed to care – or notice for that matter. If they did, they cast you both one glance and decided that they don't want trouble.

You tried your darnedest to fight him, tensed all over in an attempt to break out of his hold, but with your arms twisted there was not much room for action. Or the guy was simply stronger than you.

Every average man is so much stronger than an average woman, after all. A reminder of this truth came back to you in a bitter wave while your unwilling feet scraped over the concrete floor.

In moments like these, you saw everything in razor-sharp HD. The dregs of intoxication evaporated from your system while you gained a cool, detached view of the mess you were in.

You looked in all directions, trying to find something that could aid you. It crossed your mind to call your new friend for help. But what name were you supposed to use?

The attacker dragged you into some dark corner and threw you onto an armchair standing there. Its aged springs groaned under your weight. The man pressed both hands into the wooden backrests and leaned so close that you smelled his sour breath.

"I'll put you back in your place", he promised, undoing his belt buckle.

To do this he had to let go of you. It was a small opening, but you took it.

You sat up, reached quickly into your loose chignon, slipped out the hairpin, clenched your hand around it and swung, aiming for the gut -

"The fuck you doing?" he sniggered, grabbing at our hand and stilling it mid-way. "I'll cut you open, you daft cow -"

He did not, in fact, cut you. He didn't do shit, because a dark mountain shaped like a man appeared behind his back.

This time Skullface didn't engage in Manly Posturing. He struck your assailant once, somewhere between the ear and the jugular. The bloke staggered, fell forward, but regained balance, turned on his heel and pounced. Skullface dodged, fast like a bullet, grabbed the other man's arm and twisted it downwards with a profound crunch, at the same time driving his other fist into his stomach.

The dude let out a stifled groan. For a moment he sagged like a rag in your companion's grip but came to quickly and began thrashing around, emitting some unintelligible, high-pitched noises.

Skullface picked up the floundering man as if his opponent was a rowdy cat. Then he held him at full arm's length, clearly considering the way forward.

"He's on drugs!" You offered. "I don't think he feels pain!"

"Figures," he said. "Should've gone down already."

"Then take him down!" You asked, growing impatient.

Skullface shot you a look from under creased eyebrows.

"S'not that simple,", he explained. "If I hit him again, it prob won't cut the mustard. Bloke's foamin' at the mouth, see? But if I hit him real hard, he might stay down for good. And then Price will yell my noggin' off -"

"SUCK COCKS IN HELL!!!" Chimed in the subject of his deliberations.

Skullface shook him a little.

"Who's Price?" You asked.

"My boss. He's a real stickler when it comes to those things."

"What things?" Your head was swimming. " Killing people?"

Skullface rubbed his nose with his free hand.

"He says we have an image to uphold...that we need to inspire public trust. Some such tosh."

He noticed the hairpin, which you were still holding.

"Gimme that. I got an idea."

You handed him the pin and watched in a stupor as he hurled the guy to the floor, using a kick to stretch him flat. The man spat, snarled and threw himself around like a fish out of water, but it didn't do squat. Your masked companion grabbed him by the forearm, pressed it against the wooden backrest of one of the armchairs - and drove the sharp end of the pin right into his outstretched palm, literally pinning him in place. Blood gushed out.

You held your breath. The man howled like a thing possessed, but Skullface had already turned away.

"You broken?" He asked, hunkering down in front of your armchair. His eyes scanned all over you, seeking for signs of injury.

"What?.."

He sighed and shook his head.

"Nevermind. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, he didn't have the time to do anything..." You moved your affected hand and squirmed, seeing a fresh bruise. "Apart from fucking up my wrist, maybe. but I'll live."

"Good."

He stood up and helped you clamber out of the armchair.

"Let's go", he said.

You followed him while he shouldered his way through the club.

You two arrived at the bar, where Geoffrey The Pinched Face begrudgingly poured someone a tequila.

"Geoff, call the coppers", instructed Skullface, putting both forearms on the counter. His voice was low and confidential. "You've got quite a specimen in here. Mad as a badger, bein' a nuisance to the ladies. Careless with sharp objects, see. Went and nailed himself to a chair."

"Nailed himself?" Geoffrey raised his eyebrows. "On his own? I swear to god, Ghostie. If I didn't like you so much..."

"Then you'd have casualties here every fuckin' Friday." Skullface extended a hand. "Gimme the key. We'll wait this out upstairs."

Geoff silently handed him a small key. The masked man set off across the dark hall. You had to run to keep up with him.

" Ghostie? Should I start calling you that?"

"It's Ghost", came from behind his broad back.

"What kind of a name is Ghost anyway?" you inquired, but he didn't grace you with an answer.

You've reached the foot of a winding, narrow staircase made entirely of wrought iron.

"Up there", he ordered. "Watch your step."

You did as you were told. Your boots raised sharp echoes in the steps. The stairs winded upwards for what felt like forever; finally, you stood very high above the dance floor, in front of a black door. The paint was peeling away. A red neon reading HELLO adorned it, but the O had gone out and HELL alone remained.

Fitting, you thought. I'm following a stranger into an unknown place. A man who is darkness, yet somehow I am not afraid.

You were hardly the naive, virginal Persephone. But hey, even myths need to get on with the times.

"That was seriously cool what you just did," you said, turning to your companion, walking right behind you. " Stab! Right between the metacarpals!"

"He'll stay put until the law arrives." He didn't seem to be impressed by your high praise.

"You've sharpened it, didn't you”, he added. "The hair thingie."

You shook your newly freed hair and shot him one incredulous look.

"I'm a woman who's endeavoured a solo night on the town in a tiny dress. What do you think? Of course I've sharpened it."

Ghost nodded slowly.

"A woman after my own heart..."

"Aw, thanks!" you sent him your best seductive smile and invited yourself into his personal space, your back almost leaning on his warm chest and head tilted upwards.

He only pulled you closer.

"Can we go back to having fun now?" You asked. "I'm fucking tired of being hunted for sport."

His long forearm settled across your chest, hand drawing small circles on your opposite shoulder.

"Yeah", he said softly. "We can."

He had to loosen his embrace to insert the key into the lock. The door swung open, creaking ghastly. Your nose filled with the scent of wood and rooms long un-aired. It looked like a typical attic with slanted wooden walls and a small window just below the ceiling. When Ghost turned on the light - which was faint red - you saw low tables and soft futons scattered across the floor.

Music from the dancefloor reached in here too, although it wasn't as loud.

Truth be told, you wouldn't care if they stored onions in there.

Your attention was fully on the man.

His mask went up again. He slammed the door behind you with a kick, hand already cupping your chin. Then he leaned down. The rough cotton of his mask rubbed at your cheek, followed by the silky flutter of his eyelashes.

You opened to him without hesitation, but this time the kiss was slower, more deliberate. His lips traced over yours, tasting you, discovering this fairly new sensation, nipping and sucking at your mouth with delighted curiosity. He's clearly had a lot of practice.

You tried to fall into this fickle rhythm, but impatience got the best of you. You bit at his lower lip.

A low noise reverberated in his throat – not quite a chuckle, almost a grunt. He turned you to face him, embracing you tighter than before and gave you his tongue. You nipped at the sensitive tip and that's when he lost it. Suddenly your mouth was full of him, claiming you voraciously, setting your blood on fire once again, and you heard your own breathless moan. Somehow your fingers traveled under the back of his mask and ran through cropped hair at his nape. It was butter-soft. He groaned with pleasure under your touch and that sound pierced right through you, making your insides soft and wanting.

"Oh my god", you panted right into Ghost's mouth, holding at his nape. "Can we just screw already -"

"That's the plan." Could that rough voice of his get any deeper? Smile tapered the edges though, like a glimpse of gold in gravel.

You weaved your wanting fingers into the longer part of his fade, sliding the mask further up.

He stilled your wrists.

"Hey. Hey", he whispered cautiously into the bridge of your nose. "Don't even think about it."

"So...the mask stays on?... Like, all the way?" You inquired breathlessly between nipping at his mouth.

"Yes."

You looked this peculiar man in the eyes, now gleaming with fun, but dark and puzzling nonetheless. What was he hiding? Scars? Being a plain ol' butterface? Facial deformity of some kind?

You examined this thought thoroughly and found out that you don't care.

"All right", you said. "But tell me one thing. Are you Deadpool?"

He snorted softly. "I'm just Ghost."

"Ghost?.."

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

And kiss you he did.

Holy fuck, he was so good at this. Even when he let himself loose, abandoning all fuckboy moves in favour of feral lust.

And maybe especially then.

Your tongues entwined in a blind dance, devoid of any rhythm. It was as un-romantic as humanly possible and you liked it that way. That frenzied, rushed approach of his told you that the man was truly starving, losing himself already in this newly acquired flavour, in your feminine warmth. His desperation set your blood ablaze.

Because you were hungry too.

Ghost finally broke contact, but before leaning away he glided his tongue over your half-opened mouth. It was as if he just couldn't part with the taste.

"Hold on...fuck, you're something else." He sighed and put both of your hands around his wide neck.

"Hold tight, love", he cautioned as if you two were boarding a ride.

When you did as told, he grabbed at your ass.

You yelped when his hands pressed into the soft flesh under the thin velvet of your dress. He effortlessly pulled you off the ground and lifted you up.

"Wrap your legs around me", he asked.

You were not a dainty lady. When other guys attempted such stunts, you usually started to fear for their backs. But not for Ghost. This guy was born for heavy-duty activities. You recently watched him sweep the floor with a grown man.

He could take you. You suspected that he'd carry you out of a battlefield as well.

You pressed both thighs to his wide waist, crossing your booted legs over the small of his impressive back. You felt his firm core underneath you, covered with a healthy layer of soft flesh. That width of his didn't come just from muscles, and the discovery excited you. You liked your men strong, but not starving.

"That's right..." Ghost slid his large hands under your thighs, tearing another yelp out of you, followed by a stifled moan as he pressed your ass against the nearest wall.

"What are you doing?" you breathed, holding on for dear life.

"Keepin' a promise." That low gritty voice reverberated in your bones.

Right, he had said this earlier. I could pin you to a wall if you ask nicely.

The next moment all thoughts - the very ability to think - drifted away from you, for he glided his tongue across that space behind your ear. You moaned, your head falling back as if electricity had just pierced you. He chuckled into your collarbone and was already going lower, kissing, licking and sucking the sensitive skin of your throat. His tongue felt like a flame.

"Jesus Christ...", you breathed. "You're gonna fuck me like this?"

"If that's what you want".

"I dunno. It's kinda – aah! - uncomfortable..."

You tried really hard to rein your thoughts, but they fell apart while this impossible man held you against a wall.

It felt like being sandwiched between cold wood and a living furnace.

As if trying to make the thought process even harder, Ghost dug his fingers deeper into your buttcheeks, bunching up the fabric. It slid up your thighs, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from you.

"This fuckin' skirt is in the way", he murmured. After some more finagling, he got away with the velvet and stroked at the sheer pantyhose underneath. His long fingers nudged the lacy elastic, keeping your stay-ups in place.

"Stockings?" He asked, as if unable to believe his luck.

"Yep", you grinned at him.

" Fuckin' hell."

That came out low and guttural. You felt a sharp tingle within as if someone tugged at a string attached to your core.

That narrow strip of lace awakened something in him. He stepped away from the wall and threw you onto the nearest futon. You landed on your back with legs splayed out, but you didn't have time to collect yourself because he was already on top of you, pressing you to the ground with that huge torso, obscuring the dim light, filling up your whole world. He put his arms over your head and pressed them against the soft surface.

Then he leaned over you and dragged his mouth across your cleavage, biting on the skin on your throat, eliciting another moan, and then he let go. You moaned again, protesting this abandonment.

"I know, love", he murmured into your mouth. "But we need to get rid of your knickers."

A breathless, joyful noise tore out of you when he was pulling up your dress.

Ghost's hands pressed firmly into your buttcheeks, sliding the soft cotton down. Yeah, it was your everyday cotton. You preferred stockings over tights simply because they didn't gradually slide off you, creating that abysmal webbing situation in the crotch. You didn't leave the house tonight expecting to get lucky.

He threw your underwear away and held at your hips with more force.

"Listen, are you gonna...", you asked and got quiet mid-sentence. He was already putting your thighs on his shoulders.

His hot tongue glided along your fun parts, making you almost choke on air. He licked you up and down, parting your folds with the tip of his long tongue, tasting you, exploring you, driven by the shameless joy befitting a kid in a toy store. His hungry lips have found your swollen clit and sucked on it as if it was candy. When you answered with a prolonged, ragged moan, his mouth curled up against your pussy. He was smiling.

"You know what I dreamed of at night, sitting out there in some shitty safehouse in the desert?" he asked all of a sudden.

You had no idea what was that about, but you didn't have the bandwidth to process it either, for he sucked at you again. Your synapses flared up with pleasure.

„Of what?...” you panted with your head thrown back, all tense and wanting.

He looked up, his stare mischievous.

"Of a girl in black stockings, but with no panties on".

"Hey...you got your wish."

Ghost tilted his head and pressed his face against your pussy. The tip of his long nose parted your pubic hair. He stilled, taking in your scent like a yearning animal.

"Fuuuck, love. Need to taste you."

He licked at you again, across the slit and slid his searing tongue inside of you. Your whole body yanked up, suddenly electric. He was exploring you shamelessly until he found that special point within your wet inside. He pressed his tongue to it, forcing a loud, ragged sob out of you. And then he pulled out.

Cool air licked at your moist, swollen, exposed pussy. The unfulfilled desire in your veins surged with fire. You felt like screaming in protest. Instead, all that came out of your mouth was an uneven, helpless, rather embarrassing moan.

He slowly licked his lips, savouring your taste.

"Need me inside you that bad, huh?" He asked, his voice thick and heady. He slurred over his consonants even more than usual.

"Yes!.." you cried out in frustration. "Will you spare the ceremonies and fuck me already?"

Ghost tilted his head and lowered you onto the futon. You could see a thought forming beneath the black cotton, under that surprisingly soft hair of his.

"You don't like being eaten out?"

"Nah, not really. It's usually boring..." you admitted. "Nothing ever comes out of it. It feels like a waste of time."

Ghost leaned over you, his massive body obscuring all the view. His masculine scent tinted with sweat filled your nostrils, your mouth - and now probably your nether regions as well. You were keen with desire, wanting more of this. More of him.

"One day I'll show you how it feels when it's done right", he murmured.

"Mhm". You cared little about empty promises.

You cradled his head, pulled his face close and kissed him deeply, relishing his heat and his musky taste, now mixed with yours. Your tongues intertwined again in this dance without fixed steps. For a while all that you heard were the sounds of kissing and your rushed breath.

Your hips raised on their own, moving up to press against his.

Ghost grunted in appreciation and ground onto you. You felt his tantalising hardness poking through the fabric. He rubbed onto your exposed sex and you lost yourself in the sensation. Dissolved into this big man tending to you as if you belonged to him. As if he was never about to let you go.

He sold this illusion so well.

"You got a condom?" you whispered into his mouth.

„Always. ”

He sat up, reached into the pocket of his jeans and produced a shiny metallic rectangular.

"Allow me", you offered, sitting up as well. He kneeled right in front of you, those powerful tights splayed. You sidled closer and met his gaze while opening his fly. Thankfully the zipper didn't put up a fight. He let you do it. Watched with his lips curled up when you palmed his hot bulge, clothed in plain black cotton.

"Holy fuck", you breathed, pulling his cock out of its confinement. It sprung out half hard, not as ginormous as you were imagining, but decidedly girthy. You sighed in appreciation, sliding your fingers up and down its pale, hefty shaft. It was enchantingly warm and as smooth as fine suede.

You got reminded how much you love dicks. Beautiful, supple creatures.

"It's so shapely. May I...?" You raised your eyes at Ghost again.

He nodded and repositioned himself on the futon to be more comfortable. Those legs of his seemed to just never end when he sat with them splayed. A smile glinted in his eyes.

You curled your fingers around his root, placing your other hand on his thigh. Then you leaned down, giddy from want. His pink tip felt smooth like porcelain – if porcelain could be alive and searing hot, that is. You noticed a shiny bead of precum and licked it away.

Ghost sighed when you wrapped your lips around him.

He tasted like all men tasted, but also uniquely like himself. You detected a day's worth of sweat, a note of fresh laundry, the faintest whiff of that woodsy-citrusy cologne of his - and salt, for he was already leaking into your mouth.

Greedy boy.

You didn't try to perform any feats worthy of a porn star. You just sucked, licked and rubbed your tongue at that tender bundle of nerves right under his crown, enthralled with the sensation. He was so smooth and robust and expanded by the second.

You've always preferred to give head than to be given.

He hardened in your diligent mouth. You could feel his large thigh tensing under your touch, too. You glanced up – he was watching, eyes wide, blinking slowly, those featherlike white lashes of his giving him an ethereal look.

He seemed entranced.

You smiled around his cock and sucked harder, giving it all you've got.

A long, ragged sigh tore out of him.

And that's when you pulled away. A string of saliva bridged his glistening tip and your open mouth, gleaming under the red lights.

He stared at you, dumbfounded.

"Not so fun when it's being done to you?" You gave him a shit-eating grin. " You're lucky that I'm really, really horny. Now give me that rubber."

Ghost snorted, handing you the silver packet. You made short work of it and then used your fingers once again, this time to roll the condom down nice and easy. It slid effortlessly over his stiff manhood.

He swallowed loudly somewhere above you.

"Hands-on approach."

"Yeah." You held at his nape, pulling him closer until you were breathing each other's air.

"Fuck me, Ghost", you asked.

You didn't have to tell him twice.

He leaned over you, forearms pressed into the futon on both sides of your head, positioning his hips just the right way. You watched his eyes, wide, dark and fixated while he pressed his tip to your entrance, already swollen, tender, open and begging.

He didn't tease you anymore. Just rolled his hips into a slow, measured thrust.

"Oh riiight", you called out, your insides being parted by his hot, rigid, indomitable presence.

He wasn't crazy long, but he was wide. Thick. Sizeable. It didn't outright hurt because he only went halfway in - but you sure felt stretched. You buckled your hips, trying to make him go deeper.

"You okay?" he whispered hoarsely, visibly tense from trying to contain himself. "Fuck, love, you're so tight - "

"Yeah!... Go for it. I can take you", you pleaded, your stare locked onto his.

His eyes were two starless skies when he plunged into you for real. You both cried out when that happened.

"Oh god!"

„Oh fuck.”

He withdrew almost completely, but before you could raise your voice in protest – thrust all the way back into you, sliding in and out with more and more ease each time. Your insides softened rather quickly, letting him claim as much space as he needed. Letting him fill you with his delicious, delicious dick.

You needed this so badly.

But so did he. For a moment neither of you said a word. Music still played somewhere beyond on the club floor, muted and unimportant, while you two screwed on the dusty futon, creating your own melody. One consisting of ragged moans and rushed breathing, which quickly fell into a rhythm of its own.

The undone zipper of his jeans chafed painfully at your exposed underbelly, but it was a problem for future you. Right now you didn't have a care in the world.

Not when this enormous man took you, groaning through gritted teeth right into your ear. He licked it from time to time and then took it all into his mouth like a mango slice.

You sobbed out loud when he did this.

Ghost let out a breathless, rumbling laugh.

"Enjoyin' the ride?" He asked, sounding way more drunk than before.

"Yes. Go harder..."

Next thing you knew he grabbed at both of your wrists with his one hand and pinned them over your head.

You cried out in sheer delight.

His eyes glinted. That unwavering stare of his saw right through your kinky soul.

"You like being manhandled, don't ya", he murmured, clearly enticed by his discovery. His other hand reached down, slid under your long-suffering dress and fondled crudely at your breast. His fingers found your nipple and squeezed it without mercy. You moaned again.

"You like to be made...helpless." Dark delight laced his words.

"Yes", you admitted, shameless and staring into the skeleton mask.

Ghost grinned at you like a wolf. "We're gonna have so much fun."

He amped the tempo. You started moaning nonstop while his cock viciously slammed into you, producing obscene wet sounds.

For you were now loose and dripping. He fit snugly into that warm space while your juices trickled out of you. All for him, the burly stranger. You were being fucked with vengeance, that little poach of flub on his stomach meeting yours with a rhythmic slap. He had you pinned down. There was nothing you could do but let him use your body the way he saw fit.

And that's just what he did. He satiated his gnawing hunger with your body, your warm presence, with your mouth, which he would claim one time after another, covering it with sloppy, fervent kisses. Sometimes he didn't even use his lips at all, just pressed the flat of his tongue to yours. It felt so raw, setting your body and your mind ablaze.

"Fuck...you feel so good." His voice right in your ear was a presence of his own, low and gritty and commanding. " Eyes open. Don't you fuckin' look away from me now."

You blinked. His semi-masked face materialised in your field of vision.

Right now you couldn't put a lucid thought together if your life depended on it.

"I love your cock", you confessed dumbly.

His stare got downright manic.

"You like being fucked hard? Like a fuckin' whore?"

Usually, such terms of endearment made you want to kick the idiot in the face, but not this time. Not with this idiot.

Somewhere inside your soul sizzled a shameful flame of submission. You could be a whore for Ghost, and for Ghost only.

"Come on my cock, sweetheart", he ordered, voice low and dripping with authority. Maybe he heard your thoughts. "Come for me."

He reached between you two, pressed his thumb to your clit and started massaging it, going along with the punishing rhythm of his thrusts. You splayed your pantyhosed legs shamelessly wide, crying out from overwhelming pleasure.

"That's right", he rasped into your neck. "Come for me, ya slag."

"Yes", you wailed. "Yes, oh god – Ghost, don't stop – don't stop – don't stop -"

The sounds that came out of you after that weren't words. You dug your nails into the expanse of his firm back.

Ghost didn't seem to mind one bit.

"Fuck yeah", he growled. "Dig harder. Fuckin' hell!"

A wave of hot, sticky sweetness was rising fast, drowning your wits, washing away all your senses except for touch. Except for this sensation of being taken, being possessed without mercy. You were full of cock. You were full to the brim like a jug of water, ready to overflow. The wave came crushing over your eyes, so you grabbed at him blindly and cried right into his mouth, cursed, and moaned.

Or maybe it was a prayer.

Maybe all of the above.

He held you through it, anchored you while you felt weightless, pressing your chest flush against his - so hard and wide and still fully clothed.

When you came down from this high, he still held you for a while before letting go and falling flat on his back, long limbs splayed.

"You crazy thing", he muttered in delight, slurring the words.

"Ghost...", you breathed, lying flat like a pancake. That futon must've dented under you. Your throat was sore from all this screaming. " I have a question."

"Right now? T'better not be about maths..."

You chuckled and turned to the side to look him in the face.

Fuck, those eyes, you thought. People shouldn't have eyes this big. Eyelids this heavy. I'm never recovering from this man.

"Can we do this again?"

He smiled at you, half-lidded, relaxed. Then he reached out and traced his fingers over your jawbone. Like back then in the beginning.

"M' not in a hurry tonight. You?"

~~to be continued~~

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crowcravesmore · 1 month

Text

Dead Girl Walkin' (Frank Castle x F!Reader)

AKA 'Bounty & Bliss'

Frank Castle x F!Reader (18+)

+ After a mission gone wrong, you end up on the wrong side of Fisks gun, and now you're a wanted woman. You have 30 hours of freedom before every bounty hunter in New York has his eyes on you, so of course you run straight to Frank. Oh how he loves the sight of you.

Word Count: 5.1k ( It's actually impossible for me to write a "short" fic. I'm a wordy bitch, I can't help it. I love to talk.)

Warnings: Cursing, violence, reader getting beat tf up (She's got powers it's fine), explicit content/smut, Frank being such a softie for you, fluff (is that a warning?).

A/N: LETS GO FRANK CASTLE LOVERS! I absolutely adore this man, and I think it shows in how I write him. This is an oldie from my previous blog, but it's one of my favorite fics I've ever written. It's a long one so buckle up. (This fic was absolutely based on the song Dead Girl walking from Heathers the musical. Take that as you will.)

+ + +

It was an absolute fact that you weren't gonna die a peaceful death. Yeah no, you were gonna go out one of two different ways. One, a Bruce Willis, Die Hard type thing with at least two explosions. Or two, someone else is gonna punch your card for you. Full stop. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, that's it.

Frank threw a guess in once. Said you’d probably go out saving a bunch’a kids from a burning building or something, because you're a soft ass like that, Sunshine, that’s why. He was three stitches deep on his right arm, and shooting you looks from his side of the couch. Ain’t that right, Sunshine?

Nope. nuh-uh, not even close. You get a grand total of thirty hours, all Courtesy of Mr. Kingpin himself. Fisk. What kind of name is Fisk anyway? It sounds too much like Fist, or fish, either way it’s awkward. You’re just being pissy, because you got caught, and Fisk is rubbing it in your face.

Third punch is to your jaw, and that’s the one that knocks you, and the chair you're strapped to, back. You’re taking this whole thing in stride, you haven't passed out or anything. Be proud of that. After the fourth punch Fisk finally waves his hand and lets— what's his name? Rick? This guy looks like a Rick —stop. You ever been hit with brass knuckles by a heavyweight? It sucks.

You were hired by an unnamed client to sneak into Fisks club, and put mics anywhere you could. It was easy getting in without being noticed, unfortunately for you Fisk has eyes everywhere. Fortunately for you one of your powers is strength, so a couple of blows by a heavyweight won't kill you. It fucking hurts though.

Fisk says something, but he’s standing on the other side of the room and your ears are still ringing, so he really says nothing. He turns, catches your eyes, and there's a curious sort of smile on his face. Your ears are still ringing but, over all of the noise, you catch him say ‘Again’, and brace yourself for impact.

Rick, son of a bitch, knocks you hard, just under your eye and you can practically hear the bruise forming. You must’ve blacked out for a second because when you blink there’s Fisk, dropped to his haunches in front of you. It takes thirty seconds after you start drooling blood for him to start back up.

“You’re a real woman, you know that?”

“And what does that make you?” Your voice doesn't even sound like you, it’s too scratchy, and your words are hard to make out.

Fisk sort of ignores you and says,“And Because I'm a nice guy,” Pulling a white handkerchief—Christ—out of his shirt pocket and wiping your mouth. “I'm gonna make this easy on you, how bout’ forty eight hours? Sound good?”

You’re so stubborn. Like, way too stubborn for your own good, that’s what you’re gonna tell Frank when you explain why you spit your blood in Fisks face. And because you’re a real woman.

“Thirty hours,” Fisk says, gripping the bottom half of your shirt, using it to wipe his face, and standing up. “Butch,—” So that’s his name, he looks like a Butch. “Show her the door.”

Brace for impact.

You can't be that mad though, I mean come on. After that stunt you pulled at the Quagmire tonight you’re surprised you’re even still walking-uh -running. So yeah, thirty hours and after that you’re gonna be a goddamn beacon of come get me for every baddie in New York. Okay, you gotta stop running or else you’re gonna pull something, and catching a cramp probably isn’t the best thing for you right now...just sayin’.

You pitch from a sprint to a light jog and eventually stop, bowing over and pressing your hands to your knees. A long groan crawls out of you, and you shake your head. The middle of 10th and 42nd isn’t the place to let it hit you. Clear your throat, spit, stand back up, keep walking.

You decide to swerve out of the road and onto the sidewalk, that way you’re not ass out for everyone to see. And it’s a helluva sight. You’ve got a bruise forming just under your right eye and your nose is busted to shit, not to mention the blood- that you’re not even sure is all yours- caked over you. All that and you probably smell like a back alley.

You shift and adjust, turn right toward the dock, and pick up the pace.

‘I can run,’ you think, digging your thumbnail into your palm. ‘haul ass to Seattle, become some poor fisherman's wife.’

That doesn't sound all too bad, besides the fact that Fisk has got eyes all over this goddamn city. You so much as even look toward the bridge and his thirty hours-oh-mercy are gone. Poof! You won't even make it out of New York.

A street light flicks off for a second before coming back to life, and you dig in your back pocket, fishing for your phone. It’s a mess of cracks and smeared blood, but still manageable. You click it on and the screen gives a few half assed flashes of light before turning on. Yeah, still manageable.

You wipe the screen against your shirt and pull it back, checking the time. Twelve oh five. Good, he's still up.

•

Frank's van is static under the west bridge, just next to the pier. It’s a beige camper he’s had since way back when, and is still too sentimental to give up. It’s rusted, a hubcaps gone missing, and the battery is standing on it’s last leg, but don’t ever tell Frank it’s anything less than perfect. Seriously, buddy, don't do it.

You called it a piece of junk once, something mumbled between Frank trying to turn the engine over and almost flooding it.

“If you don’t like it that much, Sunshine, you can walk back.” He shakes his head and turns the key over again. The engine makes an almost awkward sort of noise. Something like a cr-r-r-eek! Before gray smoke creeps its way from under the hood. “God fucking damnit.”

You're ninety percent sure the only reason he didn't knock your head through the window is because he's got a soft spot for you....Eighty-five percent.

Your boot knocks against an empty can, probably oil, and Max pokes his head up. He's lying right outside the van's side door, tucked halfway under it with his head on his paws. You go still and try to remember if this dog actually liked you or not.

When he doesn’t move you chalk it up to a definite maybe, and start walking again. He lets out a few half assed growls before crawling from under the van and barking, loud and proud. You throw caution out the window and speed walk toward him, forgetting the fact that he’s a full grown pitbull, and wave your hands in front of you, shh shh shh! No, doggy. Nice, Max! You got a million different scenarios playing in your head, and none of them are good.

Max is howling now, nose pointed to the sky and oh sonofabitch.

You hear a gun cock over your head and now you're staring down the barrel of a shotgun. This was the fourth scenario. At the end of that is Frank, standing in a pair of raggedy sweatpants, an old NYU tee, and-Christ he's not even wearing any shoes.

You're still a little wobbly in the legs so you press your hand against the doorframe, and lean. That's it. Play it cool, nice and steady.

“Hey, Frank.” You say, and then. “Can I come in?” You're batting against four hours of sleep and maybe a concussion, so hey, frank is the best you're gonna do.

His shoulders slump down and he points the gun away from you, eyes moving three speeds too fast. Like I said earlier, you’re a helluva sight, girl.

“You look like the back end of hell.” He says, side stepping to let you in, eyes catching on your knuckles. They aren’t the worst of it, but you can tell a lot about a person from their hands, and Frank’s getting the whole goddamn story.

You step up into the kitchen—living room?—and focus on everything you’ve already seen before. The sketchy stain on the ceiling, the empty Budweiser cans, your feet. Just for good measure you pick up a roll of gauze and turn it over in your hand, because this is the most interesting thing in the world, not your bloody knuckles. And definitely not Frank who’s staring down your back, shooting imaginary laser beams your way. Pew pew pew. I’m calling it now, he’s gonna get mad. You know it, I know it, so just fucking face the music before he-

“So,” oh-Kay. He clicks the third deadbolt, and leans his back against the door, gun cocked on the wall, and arms crossed over his chest. “You gonna tell me what happened or am I gonna haveta’ guess?”

He doesn't have to guess, because he already knows. But, he's gonna lean back and give you a chance to say it before he starts pulling teeth.

“This was once in a lifetime, Frank.” You're pushing out excuses and he's barely said anything. “There was an opening-”

“Y/n, what the hell did you do?”

Franks more worried than actually confused. He knows you're in some deep-I'm talking chasm into hell deep- shit, he's just worried he's not gonna be able to pull you out.

“I went to the Quagmire, and Fisk was there.” You wring your hands because of the look he gives you. Priceless. “I had a shot, I took it, I—”

“Tell me you killed him.” He's shaking his head, tilt up, and looking at the roof. He's about to start praying, and lord knows he hasn't done that in a while. “Tell me you killed him, Y/n.”

The throbbing behind your eye is enough to remind you that no, you didn't. You came damn close though, I'll give you that.

Frank blinks, slow squeeze, and groans something low in the back of his throat. He drops his head and drags a hand down his jaw, you're gonna be the death of him if you keep this shit up.

“And,” you gotta get it out now, if you don't do it now you're gonna hate doing it later. “I got a bounty on me.”

“Course you do,” he's looking at you again, but his foot is tapping against the linoleum, so he's beyond mad now. “Is it active?”

You shake your head. “No, I got thirty hours.” You would have forty eight, but he doesn't need to know that...or why you don't anymore.

“Shiiit,” he almost laughs. “Bastard gave you a helluva’ lot more time than me.” His eyebrows tilt down and you catch the way his eyes track along your knuckles. You're standing in front of him, and in this light he can finally get a good look at you. And he doesn't like it. “What'd they do to you, Sunshine?”

There it is. You let out a halfhearted dry laugh and say. “Butch, son of a bitch has a solid right hook.”

“I bet I got better,” He says, lips upturning a bit.

You say. “Oh, I know you do.” And that's it, you're both drawn back into a moment that definitely shouldn't happen. Christ, girl, the man's a vigilante with a truckload of baggage. Stay away. Don't do it to yourself.

You gotta dodge this shit, so you say. “So, what do I do now?”

He gives you a quick once over and pushes himself off the wall. “First, you gotta take a shower, get your mind right.” He stalks over to the hall closet, and starts pulling out random things; a towel, a washcloth, sweatpants, and one of his Rolling Stones T-shirts. He tosses a Then we'll talk, and figure out our next move. over his shoulder and that knocks you back a minute.

Our. Don't dwell on that. Nope, nope, do not do it. You nod, walk over to him, and say. “Thank you, Franky.” Franky’s something only you’d get away with saying, just like he gets away with the whole sunshine thing. It’s weird, you’re weird, leave it alone.

When you reach him he pulls back, giving you this half look between you really okay? and it's okay if you're not. Oh, God, he's gonna have your eyes in the shape of hearts if he keeps this up.

“I'm fine,” You reach a bit more, and he meets you halfway, pushing everything towards you. “You better have hot water though.”

“Baby, you know I do.”

“Mhm, that's what you said last time.”

He says. “Just tell me if it's not hot enough for you, I'll fix it.” And you're positive it's borderline flirty. You gotta occupy yourself with turning on the bathroom light, or else he's gonna see fuuuck written all over your face.

You gotta say something back or it's gonna be one sided, and awkward so you push out. “I'll call you if I need you, Franky.” Low and slow.

Did you just?

Franks mouth pulls up into a grin and he's gotta wipe his hand over his cheek, as if he's just feeling the stubble. Look what you did, you're making him nervous.

Before either of you have a chance to react, the door’s closed and you're pressing your back against it. If you didn't know any better you'd think the man was making a move, but you've got a migraine from hell so you're gonna chalk it up to friendly banter.

You're gonna opt for a cold shower though, just in case.

•

The shower does wonders for you. Your regenerative powers help too, giving your body the chance to heal a bit under the water. You walk out dressed and unstressed with your clothes balled up in your arms, just about to call out Franks name when you hear him say. “Back here.”

You turn and walk into the small bedroom space, just big enough for the two of you. He's laying on his back with his arm thrown over his eyes, looking like absolute sin. Okay, yeah, you're cut off from reading tacky romance novels.

“You can just put your stuff on the table, we'll get em’ washed tomorrow.” He sounds tired.

You walk to the kitchenette table and drop your clothes on top of it, before walking back to the room and saying. “Or we could just get my clothes from my apartment, that's a pretty good idea.”

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “We could, and, you know what, why don't we go to the police station while we're at it and tell them about the bad man named Fisk?”

“What?”

“Oh, sorry, I thought we were stating dumb ideas.” He says nonchalantly, before adding. “You and I both know that it's not safe for you to go to your place, or else you wouldn't be here, right?”

He lifts his arm off of his face and looks at you. Yeah, right. You nod and he nods back, covering his face up again. “Right.”

Truth be told, you'd probably still be here even if it was safe. Truthfully.

You crawl onto the bed next to him and the springs groan out something light and metallic. Lay down, face up, be quiet.

“Y/n.” That's not quiet.

“Hm?”

“You're not doin’ this alone,” Okay. You turn your head to look at him but he's still got his arm over his eyes. “Not while there's air in my lungs.”

You say, “It's not your fight.” And Frank finally looks at you. His brows tip and he props himself up on one arm so he's leaning over you a bit.

“Hell it's not, you think Ima’ just let that bastard have at you? Nuh-uh,” He shakes his head. “Sorry to disappoint, but that's not how this works.”

“Then how does this work?” You're not mad, just curious. If this is going where you think it's going, God willing, Frank’s gonna be the one starting it.

He's the one with the brick walls here, so you're gonna let him be the first to break them down.

His eyes drop to your lips and roll over the curve of your jaw. It's sharp and soft at the same time, just like the rest of you. You shift, catch his eyes, and his sight slips off to the wall.

“I, uh.” he rolls onto his back and clasp his hands on his stomach. You're making him nervous and he's the one doing all the work. Jeesus, one of you do something. This is embarrassing.

“I don't wanna die.” What? You-pfsshhh. Yeah, okay, start there.

Frank has to blink that in, but he's still too chicken shit right now to look at you. So he asks. “Why not?”

For the love of God.

“Why not?” You repeat, frowning at the ceiling. Frank squeezes his eyes closed and shakes his head, backtrack.

“No, not-” He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand and gives himself a second to get it. He doesn't, so he just nods and says. “Yeah, okay why not? Why don't you?”

You sit up and turn to look at him. He's circulating between frowning at you, and the ceiling, and the door, so when his eyes hit you on their third rotation you say. “I don't wanna die, because I'm not ready yet.” Simple.

“Says the girl who went all Annie Oakley on a mob boss tonight.”

“It was his henchmen-”

“-henchmen?”

“-and that's not the point.” You ignore him. “The point is I'm scared. I thought I could do it tonight, but I didn't and now look at me.”

He does. In the weak light from his bedside lamp he can see all of you. The bruise forming (and healing) under your eye, and on the bridge of your nose. The scratch along your neck that dips just below the collar of your-his shirt. It's a lot. You're a lot.

He shifts and pushes himself up a bit before opening his arms. “Come here.”

Then your head is pressed against his chest, with your hand resting on his abdomen. Fingers curled in. You can hear his heart beating, thu-thump. Thu-thump.

His arm wraps around you and you can feel his fingers brush against the middle of your back, right at the dip. A train's horn blares in the distance and suddenly you feel really mortal.

This is it, Kid.

You've finally hit fuck it, because now you're lifting up and kissing Frank Castle. You half expect him to push you off, but nope, his hand pushes straight to your hips, your shirt hitching up around his forearm.

There's no awkward is this okay kisses, nope, you're both just diving for it. You push your hand up to his shoulder and-oh okay, yeah you do that- slide your leg over him, so you're halfway straddling him at least.

You push both of your hands to his neck, thumbs pressed against his jaw, and lean in. It's an awkward approach, something he wasn't exactly ready for this time because your teeth collide, and you're about to pull back and apologize when he reaches down and grips your ass.

Oh-Kay. He tugs you back up toward him and this time you're both ready. Especially you, because your tongue dips into Frank's mouth and he's just here for it.

After a while of just that, you lift up and press your hands against his chest. His other hand scoots up to your hip, and he starts rubbing up and down your thighs.

“Y/n-”

“Hold on.” You scoot so you're really on top of him and sit back a bit, feeling him rub against your clit. He lets out a sharp exhale of a groan and you lift up, before sitting back again and grinding against him. Frank tugs off his shirt and you follow suit, pulling yours up and over your head before tossing it off to the side, and Frank is on you.

You’re not wearing a bra, so he just dips his head down to lick your nipple into his mouth. He reaches up to gather your other breast in his hand, and you bring your hands up to his shoulders just to hold onto something. You bury your face in his hair, shift, and kiss along his head.

Frank starts peppering sloppy kisses across your chest before biting down on your other nipple.

“Shit,” you whisper. “Frank.”

“Mhm,” He’s got a vice grip on your hips, and then he’s bucking up into you. Slow and steady, and meticulous, and—Jeesus. His tongue swirls and bites, and you’re tilting your head back. Eye’s closed just feeling him.

Okay, you gotta-hold on. You push against Franks shoulders and his mouth comes off of you with an almost obscene pop. He starts to ask what’s wrong when you dip your head down and catch his mouth against yours. It’s slow and nasty and good, something almost too sensual to be Frank, but it is. It’s just you and him.

He mumbles. “Com’on.” Against your lips and rolls you over so he’s pressed on top of you. You’re rubbing your hands up his arms and over his shoulders when he —oh Christ, okay—reaches up to grab each of your wrist pinning them over your head. This is more of what you expected, you’re not gonna stop him though.

He peppers kisses along your jaw and down to your neck, before sucking.

“Fra-ank.” God you’re whiney right now, and Franks sucking hickies into your neck, so who the hell cares?

“What’s wrong, Baby?” Frank is an A-1 goddamn tease. Before you can get an answer out he pushes against you. Languid downward rolls of his hips, catching against you and pushing your body up juuust a bit with each thrust. “Hm?”

Your mouths open in an ‘O’ shape, and you’re positive you're not gonna be able to make clear sentences, so you lock your ankles behind him and drag him closer to you. He groans out a breathy ah, shit and pulls his head back up to kiss you again. When he lets your arms go he’s quick to get back on you, sucking and biting his way down your body, and you’re still too dazed to really get what’s happening until he says.

“Y/n.”

He’s sitting up, leaning back a bit onto his legs, with his hands resting on your hips. You prop yourself up on your forearms. “Yes?”

His mouth tips up into a half smile and he says. “I said you gotta lift up,” His fingers tap the waistband of your sweatpants. Oh, yeah, okay. You lift up your hips and he starts tugging your pants down, fingers hooked in your panties too. You lift up your legs and then he’s got everything up and off of you.

He settles back down, onto his stomach, with his head between your legs and looks up at you. You’re still propped up onto his shoulders, and you’ve got a pretty damn good view of him. He dips his head down and starts kissing along your thighs, and again it's strangely intimate for him. Out of your peripheral you catch a car's headlights move past the window, and you think to say something when you feel Frank slide his hands to the back of your knees and fold your legs back on either side of you towards the bed.

You feel him blow cool air against you and you gotta take deep breaths. Scoot, shift, and his face is right between the junction of your thighs. Your hand is in his hair when he drags his tongue up your pussy and over your clit. Your head hits the pillow and you push your other hand into the other one next to you. Gripping.

“Frank,” You breathe for no reason other than it’s just him. “Oh, God, Frank.”

He moans into you and that’s enough to get your back arching a bit. He starts in earnest, jumping between circling your clit, and looong strokes up your vulva. You start to wonder if he’s spelling his name down there, when he pushes his tongue aaaalll the way in until his face is practically buried inside of you. His tongue is pressed flat against your labia and then he’s licking inside you. There’s a pause while you gasp out a ‘Fra-a-ank’, before he starts tongue fucking you. You’re not sure what your sound limit is here so you’re doing your best to keep it to a minimum. Rotating between a string of Oh god, Yes, fuck, and Fraa-aank-just to be safe.

And then he plants his mouth over your clit and sucks, pushing a finger inside of you. Your back is almost full rainbow, pushing your head into the pillow, and your moaning out a loud. “Ooooh, fuck, Frank!”

He hums, and, without missing a beat, his tongue starts circling your clit, and he adds a second finger. Languid and intinse. Faster, tighter, you’re really pushing the sound limit here. He’s still working you to the edge, but has enough time to say. “Come on, Y/n. Come in my mouth, baby.”

You groan. “Oh shit,” But he pulls his fingers back a bit, curve, and he’s finger fucking you against your G-spot. He’s an angel.

You’re loud. Like-you’re voice is probably gonna be strained in the morning- loud. Frank pumps into you, tongue circling tightly, and gets just a little rougher with it. “Ah, fuck, Frank. Please-God-please…” He latches his lips around your clit and sucks, and it's gotta be biblical the amount of times you’ve said God’s name tonight. He presses against your legs and tucks his fingers, moans against you. Your jaw drops and you squeeze your eyes shut, pushing your other hand down to the back of Frank's head and pulling his face into you.

A strain of ecstasy pushes its way through you and you just can’t get out fast enough. “Frank-frank, oh GOD AAaaahhh!!” Your chest has a slow rise and fall to it, and Frank is back to being sensual. Kissing around your still sensitive clit and up your thighs. He lets go of your leg and pushes both of his hands onto your hips, you can feel your wetness on his fingers.

He pulls himself on top of you and this kiss is rougher, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. He props himself up onto his forearm and reaches down to push off his sweatpants, throwing them off to the side with the rest of his clothes.

“You ready?” His voice is wrecked, something you’re really not used to hearing from Frank. You think, and push up on his shoulders before wrapping your leg around his hip and rolling so you’re on top. Franks got this dazed smile on his face, and lord he is cute. Really, Frank Castle is cute.

He grabs onto your waist and lifts you up with almost ridiculous ease, before shifting his eyes down and watching as you wrap your hand around his dick and slowly guide yourself down onto him.

You press your hands against his chest and raise up, just to grind back down, and Franks gotta focus on his breathing or else he’s gonna cum way too fast.

You go like that for a while, a slow and steady rock, but Frank’s been sporting a hard on since you laid next to him so he’s not as patient as he could be. He adjusts his grip on your waist, hikes his legs up so he’s digging his heels into the mattress, “You ready, baby?” and starts to buck up into you. And you thought you were leading the show.

You’re panting out little ah’s with each thrust, and you gotta brace your hand on the headboard for some kinda leverage. Frank pulls you down onto his chest and kisses you full, mumbling a string of “You like that? Huh? Ah, fuck.” against you, before wrapping his arm around your waist. You grind down and meet each of his thrust and he’s done for. He pushes his face into your neck as he starts pistoning into you, lips mouthing at your neck. His thrust start getting sloppy, uncoordinated, and he moans out. “Com’on, Y/n.” Before reaching down and circling your clit.

And it's building and building and you rasp out. “Frank, I—”

He bites down on your shoulder and Oh, okay, yes that. You dig your nails into his shoulder and he’s forcing every ounce of himself not to scream. “Y/n!” Low and breathy. He still does. His hips stutter as he cums, and you pick up your pace, fucking him through it. His hips eventually stutter and he bucks a couple of times before sighing into your neck, spent.

You both just stay like that for a while. Breathing in each other, enjoying the come down. You can’t help but let your mind drift to thoughts of Frank outside of this. Domesticated, and lovely. He just came inside of you, so the idea of having his kids passes through briefly. You’ll deal with that tomorrow. He coaxes you off of him and onto the bed, sliding the sheets onto the both of you. Sliding his arm under your back he pulls you into his side and closes his eyes. You rest your head against his chest, hyper aware of how intimate this is. Neither of you are sure whether or not you should dwell on that or not.

He, Christ, reaches down and plants a kiss on your forehead before laying back and saying. “You’re not getting your card punched, not while I’m still here.”

Does he know what he’s doing to you? You just nod, because you’re not really sure if you believe him or not, and he sees that.

“Hey,” He says, nudging you a bit. You sit up and look at him, and he’s got this look in his eyes. Something like worry, and hope, and so much love for you it almost breaks your heart. “I’m serious, I’m not letting him or any a’ them get to you.”

You’re the closest thing this man has got to a friend, hell even a family, so yeah. You believe him. You nod and lean up to kiss him, before laying your head back onto his chest.

Thirty hours.

A/N: I'm actually obsessed with this man. Y'all please leave comments letting me know if you liked this / what you think. I wanna hear back from you! Have a great day, beautiful.

#I love writing so much what a great outlet #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x female reader #frank castle fluff #the punisher #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #kash writes

292 notes · View notes

pelova4president · 4 months

Text

My muses

Laura Freigang x Sydney Lohmann x Reader

summary~ In which you fall for two German girls that are in a relationship with eachother. They’ve had their eye on you for a little while now and decide to make a move now you’re working with their national team.

Syd and Laura are bestfriends, everyone knew that. They roomed, sat and did basically everything together. They played for different clubs but that didn’t matter, they got to see eachother more than enough.

What most people didn’t know is that they are a little more than friends, girlfriends to be exact. They didn’t really try to keep it private but everyone just thought that they were good friends since they had always been like this.

When you moved from the Netherlands to Germany it felt like a big change, you were only twenty and, ofcourse you knew a few words and sentences but that was it. German sounds a bit like Dutch but it was still hard to understand all of the difficult business words, especially when they were talking so fast.

You’ve been a sports photographer for about three years now. It began with your love for women’s football. Watching your childhood club Ajax play week in week out, you wanted to capture it. After you realised your phone camera wouldn’t do the job anymore you bought a real professional camera, it had cost you a fortune and you had to work extra hours at the cafe you served at. But honestly, it was the best decision you’ve ever made. You tried to capture moments from your seat in the stands but that was hard when the bald men in the seats in front of you stood up at every exciting pass.

Eventually, you mustered up enough courage and mailed Ajax, asking them to get access to the field to photograph the players in action. A few days later you got a response back saying that they’d like that.

After capturing many more games you signed a contract with the club, not as a player but that didn’t matter.

That’s how you got here, signing a contract with the German women’s football team as media manager and photographer. You’ve photographed some of the players because some of the girls had played against Ajax. But this was all still very new to you, working in Germany and also managing the socials.

They also didn’t really bother to introduce you to the girls, you just had to start. Or well, that’s what you understood anyway.

The start of your new era began rather hectic. The German girls were going to Italy and Portugal for some friendlies. They would play against Iceland and England to prepare for the World Cup.

You were staying in the same hotel as the team and at dinner time you eventually met some of them. Sitting alone, Laura approached you.

“Hey, ich bin Laura, ich glaube, ich habe dich schon einmal gesehen.” (Hey, i’m Laura, i think i’ve seen you before.) she introduces herself. “Ich bin y/n, but uhh i don’t speak that much German. I’m the new media manager.” you say awkwardly. Why are you like this all of a sudden. “Oh sorry, i didn’t know but you’ve got an accent. Where are you from?” Laura asks you.

You tell her about your little journey, working for Ajax and photographing. Laura sits down at your empty table and you fall into a nice conversation. She apparently remembered you from a game she played against Ajax a few months ago.

Laura was telling you about her love for photography when a certain midfielder came crashing the conversation. “Laura, warum hast du mir diese Schönheit nicht vorgestellt?” (Laura why didn’t you introduce me to this beauty?) the girl said. Laura rolled her eyes at her, “Syd this is y/n, our new media manager and sports photographer, y/n this is Sydney my idiot girlfriend.” Laura explained.

You didn’t even know the girl but to say you were disappointed that she was taken was an understatement. You really clicked and thought that she was even flirting a little bit with you but you were just imagining things apparently.

Syd sat down on the chair on the other side of you and began to ask you things too. But she had other questions in mind. “So, do you have a girlfriend.. or boyfriend?” the midfielder asked you shamelessly. “Uh no, i don’t have a girlfriend at the moment.” you said with a red face trying to look anywhere but at the couple. The two German girls smirked to eachother and continued to pester you with questions.

The next day Laura and Sydney wanted to take you out for the day since they had the afternoon and evening off. Laura had promised you some beautiful views and good food so you couldn’t resist a night out with the two girls.

You dressed up and had done your makeup and hair. The two girls knocked on your door and when you opened it you saw both of the girls looking you up and down. Sydney licked her lips and greeted you, “Du siehst echt gut aus” (You look really good) and Laura did the same, “Du siehst so schön aus.” (You look very pretty).

They walked you to the black BMW they had rented and Sydney opened the car door for you. Laura sat in the drivers seat and Sydney in the passenger’s. Sydney connected her phone and r&b played on the background of your lighthearted conversation. At some point in the conversation they stopped talking English and switched to German.

“Sie sieht gut aus.” (She looks good) Laura said looking in her little mirror. Syd hummed, “Sie ist sehr schön. Glaubst du, sie mag uns?” (She’s very pretty. Do you think she likes us?). You were looking out of the window, listening to Frank Ocean when you heard Laura speak English again. “I think so, i guess we’ll have to find out.” and with that she parked the car and opened your door.

They took you to a very nice restaurant, the vibe was good and the food and company was even better. They kept flirting with you and now it wasn’t just Laura when she was alone with you, they both were and they both seemed to be okay with it too.

“What got you into sports photography?” Sydney asked you. “Well, i wanted to capture the moments and you know, the women.” you laughed, your face heating up. The couple laughed at your answer and Laura spoke again, “I get it, i’m surprised none of my teammates made a move on you yet, you’re a pretty girl.”. You were surprised but flattered by her words. “Oh thank you, the both of you look really good too.” you complimented them.

“Sie ist niedlich.” (She’s cute) Laura said to her girlfriend. The brunette gave her teammate a smile and looked at you again. “Yeah, you think so, liebling?” Sydney asked you, trying to get more out of you. “Yeah- well i mean you know, you’re both really attractive and sweet and stuff.” you rambled and they let you. Both of the girls giggled at your rambling, finding it quite cute how you got flustered so easily.

The night ended after some more teasing and a nice dessert. They walked you to your door and told you that they enjoyed their evening with you and how they’d love to do something like this again sometime. Sydney kissed you goodnight on your forehead while Laura kissed you on the corner of your lips. You wondered of she did that on purpose or if she did it by mistake.

laurafreigang posted on their story

y/n_y/l/n

liked by victoriapelova and 78.628 others

portugal📍, italy you’re next.

comments

viviannemiedema 😍😍

stanwaygeorgia got that portugal glow

sydneylohmann looking good 👀

laurafreigang touring with a good view

l0hmannbayernn wait but syd and laura were at that same restaurant too

↳ germany_w0men they’re probably friends i think since y/n works for the national team

You traveled to Italy with the team and arrived in the evening. When you stepped out of the travel bus Sydney approached you. “We’re going to the beach with the team, do you want to join us?” she asked you calmly. You accepted her offer and walked to the beach together.

Syd told you about the time she went to Rome with Laura and how they got lost and nobody understood them because of their German accent. It was so funny that your stomach hurt from all the laughing. “Syd! Stop, my stomach!” you giggled. “Okay, okay i’ll stop.” Sydney hugged you from behind, her hands on your stomach. “Better now?” she asked you, you could feel her little smirk. “Yeah, all better.” you hummed leaning into her.

Sydney took your hand in hers and with your fingers intertwined you arrived at the beach. Apparently there were boats for rent and you couldn’t resist, floating on the water at sunset, that’s a dream. Laura saw the two of you get on the boat and joined, not wanting to miss out on more quality time.

The three of you sat at the front of the boat, looking at the sun disappearing into the sea. “I’ve had my eye on you for a little while now.” Laura suddenly says. You’re a bit shocked and your first reaction is to look in the direction of her girlfriend who laughs at your motion. “We’ve had our eye on you.” Syd corrects her girlfriend. Now you’re even more lost.

Not knowing where to look you look into the distance. “What do you mean?” you ask just above a whisper. “We both like you, romantically.” Laura says for the both of them. You look up and Laura is staring at you expecting some kind of reaction. You look at Syd and she nods assuringly.

Laura took your face into her hands and leaned in for a kiss. Your lips met hers. You’ve wanted this for longer than you’d like to admit. Your kiss with Laura was hungry but sweet. When you disconnected your lips Sydney saw that as her chance. The kiss with the midfielder was a little more rough and longer.

Laura saw the state of you and couldn’t help but smirk at your swollen lips and messy hair. “I’ll take that as a ‘i like you too’.” Sydney said giggling and pulling a strand of hair behind your ear. Your cheeks reddened and you nodded furiously. The girlfriends laughed at that and Laura kissed you on your red cheek.

laurafreigang posted on their story

The next few days you photographed the girls at training, made content, went on little outings with the team and you even got to steal a few kisses here and there. Sydney and Laura were absolutely wonderful and amazing models, both of them are pretty, beautiful, sexy, everything honestly. You liked taking pictures of them, especially when they weren’t looking or after a game they’d won. But all three of you knew that after this camp you’d probably see eachother again at the preparations for the World Cup and that was weeks away.

sydneylohmann

liked by lynnwilms_ and 103.728 others

got the best photographers out there 🎞️

comments

y/n_y/l/n i got the best models out there

stanwaygeorgia tatted girl 👀

laurafreigang du bist sehr cool lohmann✌️✌️

jule_brand 😍😍

wos011 why did y/n comment??

↳ arsenalw21p they’re sooo dating

laurafreigang

liked by jule_brand and 118.620 others

best days away

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lena_oberdorf looking good

y/n_y/l/n mooi meisje 😍

sydneylohmann got the coolest gf

↳ gerwntfann wait they’re dating???

sophie.kleinherne 😍😍

giuliagwinn laura freigang things

chels3akerrr why did y/n comment?

You were going from club to club in the break since you still needed to get some work done. Syd and Laura texted and called you a few times and they had a few dates planned between the camps. It was nice, they were absolutely perfect. You loved them.

The time flew by and the team had to get ready for the World Cup. You knew how much this meant to all of the girls. For some it was their first and for others just another. There was so much pressure on them, their nation was a winning one and everyone knew it, you could feel it. Germany was in it to win.

The team ended on top of their group and won all the other games in the knockouts. Fighting for every goal they got into the final. The final against England, the nation they lost the Euros title to. They wanted payback.

When you arrived at the stadium it felt like a dream. The atmosphere in the stadium was magic, nothing like you’ve ever seen before. Fans from all over the world eager to watch the rematch of the Euros final. As the match continued, it became clear that it would be a battle till the very end.

With the score tied at 1-1, it got hard to watch the game. The seconds were flying by, and both teams were pushing themselves to their absolute limit. Lohmann, your midfield maestro, got past Keira Walsh and Georgia Stanway. Spotting an opening, she passed a perfectly calculated ball to Freigang, your quick forward.

Laura, known for her fast pace and clinical finishing, sprinted towards the goal. Millie Bright tried to tackle Freigang but just couldn’t get to her. With adrenaline running through her, she released her shot in the top bins. The stadium erupted as Germany took the lead in the dying minutes of the game.

Sydney flew into Laura’s arms, but Laura was searching for you. She knew you were there, capturing every moment through your lens. With one of her cocky smirks, she made her way towards you, with the high of scoring such and important goal she leaned in, planting a kiss on the camera lens. Her eyes meeting yours as she playfully winks at the camera.

The game didn’t last much longer. The extra time was over and the German girls ran towards eachother while the English girls sunk to the ground.

Your two footballers hugged eachother and you captured the moment. Nothing could top this moment you thought, atleast not for now.

The girls came running towards you and included you in their hug. “Saw what i did there?” Laura whispered in your ear. You laughed, “Yeah, couldn’t really miss it eh?”. The goalscorer poked you in your side and Sydney laughed at the two of you.

Things went really fast from that moment on, Syd and Laura asked you to be their girlfriend and you said yes ofcourse. You signed a contract with Bayern for when you weren’t working for the National team. That made it possible for you to see Syd almost everyday. As promised you had a date night atleast once a week with your girlfriends and Laura announced her signing. Both of your girlfriends were playing for Bayern and you couldn’t be happier.

It had all gone fast. You fell fast, you got close fast and you started dating fast. But in your eyes it felt like you’ve always known. You loved them and wouldn’t trade this for the world.

y/n_y/l/n

liked by daniellevddonk and 103.613 others

meine schätze

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laurafreigang finally learned some german

↳ y/n_y/l/n just for the both of you

jillroord you’re supposed to root for us not Germany 🙄

sydneylohmann you’re our WAG 😍

↳ y/n_y/l/n honoured to be your WAG 😘

wosogirll HARDLAUNCHH

lovef00tball i knew it!!

sydneylohmann

liked by jillroord and 271.624 others

thank you Australia and New Zealand ❤️

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y/n_y/l/n mijn lieveheersbeestje 🐞❤️

↳ sydneylohmann you were scared of it so i don’t take it as a compliment

jillroord loohhmaaannn ❤️

sam_kerr_ winnerrrr 🥇

laurafreigang we’re so sexy

↳ y/n_y/l/n you are xx

↳ sydneylohmann thank you baby

laurafreigang

liked by alex.popp11 and 212.427 others

australia with my mäuschen

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sydneylohmann you’re a rat

↳ laurafreigang awww you’re so sweet 😍

y/n_y/l/n you’ve charmed your way into my life

↳ laurafreigang it was the photographer rizz i think

↳ sydneylohmann no definitely the football rizz

sam_kerr_ freigang touring the world with her sidekicks

↳ sydneylohmann i’m not a sidekick!!

A/N the ending is a bit abrupt so there’s a chance that i’ll make a second part?? Thanks to @totaly-obsessed i think i’ve done pretty well with the german nicknames and sentences.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #laura freigang x reader #laura freigang #sydney lohmann x reader #sydney lohmann #gerwnt #bayern munich frauen #eintracht frankfurt frauen #engwnt #georgia stanway

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rrrick · 3 months

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Bill Withers wrote the song "Ain't No Sunshine" at age 31 while working at a factory, making toilet seats for airplanes. Using his own money, he would record demo tapes and play at various clubs at night. When he debuted with "Ain't No Sunshine", he refused to quit his day job, believing that the music business was a fickle industry. Fortunately for him, the song turned out to be a massive hit. When it went gold, the record company gave him a gold toilet as a gift, marking the start of his new career.

In 1985, at age 47, Bill Withers decided to walk away from it all. He felt that the record companies he worked with were constantly trying to exert more and more control over how he should sound if he wanted to sell more albums. He felt pigeonholed and no longer wanted to be part of the music business. In 2015, he was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. He claimed to have no regrets and provided the following reflection on his later life: "I've always been serious that way, trying to evolve to a more conscious state. Funny thing about that, though. You tweak yourself, looking for more love, less lust, more compassion, less jealousy. You keep tweaking, keep adjusting those knobs until you can no longer find the original settings. In some sense, the original settings are exactly what I'm looking for—a return to the easygoing guy I was before my world got complicated, the nice guy who took things as they came and laughed so hard the blues would blow away in the summer wind."

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salsakiyoomi · 2 months

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suna used to be in a band.

it was a small thing back in highschool, the music club had four people and he was the fourth — he played the guitar, he played it really well, in fact, he was the best.

it was a little gig on the side next to his volleyball, he was passionate about it and his mom pushed him into joining the music club for it to maybe grown on him like volleyball did.

in the band, he was the main guitarist and there was a bassist and a drummer and then there was you.

you, the vocalist with the angel voice.

he had never heard someone with such a beautiful voice as yours before.

all of the competitions that he had entered with the band, the primary reason for the winning was you and your voice.

other than the fact that your voice was angel-like and had his ears begging for more — you were charismatic, and he was immediately attracted to you.

although the two of you never interacted much, just a daily minimum, you two talked enough to be labeled as friends.

and although he wouldn't like to admit, he may or may have not developed a teeny tiny crush on you by you two's third year.

he even asked you out for prom, although it was totally platonic.

anyway, years passed and eventually the two of you lost contact although you never really forgot him because he became a top-tier volleyball player and you saw his face everywhere you went and he never really forgot you either because your voice played like a remedy on repeat every night.

none of that really explains why he's seeing you by the bar counter chatting with the bartender right now though.

he's at a bar with his friends, chatting and drinking while the night is still young, and he swears that its you, standing right there and sipping on a martini.

he's debating whether or not to come up and talk to you because if it isn't you, well then this whole thing is going to be very embarrassing for him.

fortunately, his longing side wins and he stands up from the table and walks over to where you are.

he taps at your shoulder and you turn around to look at him and yep — it's definitely you.

“hey.” he says and his voice comes out a little wobbly a little more than he'd like to admit so he gulps and continues, “y/n l/n, right?”

there is a slight smile at your cherry red lipstick lips and you nod.

he smiles and his heart is doing cartwheels because yes, oh thank god it's you, “uh, i don't know if you remember me but, we used to be in band together in highschool, i’m —” you cut him off, “suna rintaro, yeah i remember you.” you say, smiling at him, you take a sip out of your drink then continue, “it's good to see you, suna, i haven't talked to anyone from highschool for a while.”

god, his heart is about to leap out of his chest — because not only does your voice sound as angelic as it was and always will be, but you remember him and god do you look so beautiful right now, standing there with that red dress on and your hair and make up done he could just kiss you —

he clears his throat and tries for a chuckle to not seem awkward, “that's great… would uhm, like to catch up sometime? you know maybe hang out, i could give you my number.”

there is most definitely a blush on his cheeks right now.

you look at him for a moment then giggle, “sure, i'd love to catch up with you.”

“great.” he says.

you smile teasingly at him, “great.”

yeah, that's definitely a score.

#this is bullshit but #pushing my guitarist suna agenda #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #hq x reader #haikyuu drabbles #suna rintarou #suna imagine #suna headcanons #suna drabbles #suna fluff #suna x reader

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margotw10bis · 2 months

Text

Crashing On Crush.JJK 7 [m]

crush!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut; series; romance; angst

Words: 4.6k

Synopsis: What happens when your first encounter with your crush is Jungkook seeing your ass?

Warnings: sexual tension; broken heart; Calvin Klein JK (yeah, it's a warning)

previous ← 7 → next

As much as you hate it, you do find Jungkook handsome and your heart has been pounding as soon as you noticed him. And you hate that you missed him - the last time you saw him was two weeks ago in the club. You are surprised to see him but also to see he has cut his hair. You can't help but missing his puffy shoulder-length hair and you want to slap you in the face for that thought. His black locks are now shorter in a mullet-style hair cut with a bang and are lightly curled. But gosh, he looks good. A little too good for your heart's sake.

You forget to how to breath when Jungkook stops a few meters from you. You feel your cheeks burning as well as your whole body and it's not because of the hot and suffocating July of Seoul because the A/C is on inside the art gallery. It's definitely because of Jeon Jungkook, the devil manifesting in a handsome man figure.

"Hi, uhm, I have an appointment with Aecha" He says after clearing his throat

"Follow me"

Even if you invite him to walk with you, it looks like you want to run away from him. Fortunately, you quickly arrive to Aecha's office. You knock and enter, Jungkook by your side. Your colleague offers him a way better smile than you.

"Jungkook, hi! Nice to meet you in person! We are so happy to work with you" Aecha's voice is warm and magically relaxes Jungkook

"Same here"

He tries to sound cheerful. He is really happy and proud that the gallery has approached him for the project, it will surely help him for his career but he does feel tensed to see you. He can't deny he hesitated to accept the job but then he saw it as an opportunity to set the record straight with you. He has been so grumpy that even Mina has stopped asking for his attention and let him work in his office at home. Jungkook has imagined hundred of scenarios of what happened between you and the guy after you left and every single one of them ended with you in his arms. By anger and frustration, he even broke his Apple Pencil and had to buy a new one.

"I am so sorry but I don't have time to talk details with you personally" Aecha continues, genuinely annoyed "But don't worry, Y/N is very professional and I'm sure you'll get along"

Your eyes widen and you throw distraught gazes at Aecha. 'Please, don't make me do that!' You silently beg her. But she doesn't get it or chooses to ignore it as she hands you the file. You do know the artists and the theme of the exhibition, as well as other details about the events related but you don't want to work with Jungkook. You know he is supposed to provide different visuals and supports, which means that you are going to deal with him for days. You're not sure your heart can handle it and you fear your determination to hate him will fail you - to be true, it has already began when he first appeared in the lobby.

Yet, you have no choice but to take the damn file with shaky hands and ask Jungkook to follow you in the meeting room.

A feeling of pain and jealousy fills you when you realize that his girlfriend has got to see him everyday and you have no doubt that he has looked damn hot every single day of these two weeks. Even now, in front of you, he is ridiculously handsome in his matching Calvin Klein denim jacket and pants, a white t-shirt finishing his perfect look. You can't help but wondering if his underwear is also signed CK, which makes you blush. Jungkook is fucking hot like that - would you dare to say that you are aroused by the absence of his usual all-black style?

You shake your head to erase those filthy thoughts and you sit down. You open and read the file, which gives you a good excuse to not look at Jungkook.

"Did you sleep with him?"

Jungkook's voice is neutral despite his pounding heart. He couldn't help but ask you. Even if it breaks his already broken heart, he has to know. His look-the-other-way part argues that if he knows, it'll get easier to let you go.

You immediately look up and open your mouth but no sound escapes it. Just by seeing you blushing hard, Jungkook knows. His fists clench and he is angry. Not at you, but at himself. You left with another man, you slept with another man because he pushed you away. He tries to convince himself that the pinch in his heart is due to his bruised man pride but deep down he knows that it's his feelings for you that have been rattled.

"It's none of your business" You eventually decide to answer "Let's not get personal and stick to a professional behavior"

Jungkook doesn't say anything but nods, poking on his inner cheek with his tongue.

Weirdly enough, you both concentrate on work and are able to have a peaceful conversation. Some details are discussed and Jungkook notes some ideas that get through his mind while you give him more informations.

"Can I see the art pieces? It'll help to get fully in the right mood" Jungkook asks at some point

"Sure"

You both walk through the art gallery and you can see that Jungkook truly appreciates the architecture of the building. You see his doe eyes sparkle with inspiration and you can practically see all the ideas that are currently filling his brain. Witnessing his passion melts your heart.

You enter the code of the storage room and motion Jungkook to step in. You explain that you haven't receive yet all the pieces but you add that he can look at them of the website of the gallery. His back facing you, a sketchbook and a pen in his hands, he is already quickly sketching a few visuals. You are quite intrigued by how fast his brain works and you move forward gingerly. You stand on your tiptoe to look upon his large shoulder and sneak on his sophisticate drawings.

"Wow" You whisper, almost in his ear, unintentionally

Jungkook was so focus on his work that he didn't notice you, but when you opened your mouth he startles and turns his head to your face suddenly. You are so close that your breathes are mixing. His eyes look right into yours but can't help going down to yours pretty lips. He gulps, a vivid memory of your several passionate kisses coming to his mind. He knows how you taste and he is dying to feel it again on his tongue. He wets his pierced lips with his tongue and the move attracts your glance too. A spontaneous wave of arousal goes straight to your lower belly.

Thankfully - or not -, staying this long on your tiptoe causes a cramp in your left calf. You immediately step back and wince, holding on the painful leg.

"What's going on?" Jungkook asks you, alarmed

"Cramp" You hiss

It doesn't take long to Jungkook to kneel down and massage your lower leg. You blush hard but convince yourself that it's due to the pain and not to Jungkook's warm palms on your skin. But why do you mentally praise you for wearing a yellow wrap dress and not your usual slacks?

"It's okay, you don't have to-" You speak up, weakly trying to push his hands away

"Let me do that for you"

His eye is so intense that you only manage to gulp and nod, letting Jungkook rubbing your calf to relax the muscles. You hiss as his fingers palp your aching leg, instinctively grabbing on his large shoulders to not fall. Feeling your hands on him, even through the thick fabric of his denim jacket and under this circumstances, Jungkook feels good. So fucking good. His whole body, that has been tensed for weeks now, softens under your touch. It's like he was physically missing something that your hands give him back. Someway, it's the first time you wish your cramp was lasting longer.

"It's gone" You say unsurely and, with regret from both sides, Jungkook stands up

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't. Please don't" You close your eyes in pain, not willing to remember once again what he did because you surely didn't forget

You hate him for breaking your heart but you don't hate him. Quite the opposite actually. You still love him, so fucking much. You can't change the past and you surely can't be best friend with him but you can make this professional relationship work. You want it for the gallery but also for Jungkook because you still think he is very talented and deserves the contract. That's why you take a deep breathe and start talking:

"Look, I know things have been... weird between us. Let's just put that aside and concentrate on work. I really want to feel good here so let's not make things more awkward. I think it would be nice if we could be colleagues"

Jungkook looks at you for a moment, surprised. He doesn't really know what to say when there are so many things that he wants to say - if that makes any sense. He runs a hand through his fresh cut hair.

"I'll work hard then, for you"

He doesn't specify if 'you' refers to the gallery and all your colleagues and artists involved or just you. But your heart doesn't care about the difference and skips a beat. You try to put a - weird - smile on your face to look relax.

"Welcome onboard then, Mr. Jeon"

————

Day 2 of working with Jungkook and you have to say that you are surprised how things go smoothly. You and Jungkook really get along - on a professional level - and your two brains seem to share the same ideas and vision of the project.

When he went home, Jungkook went straight to his home office and started sketching some visuals. On the one hand, he wants to work slowly only to get the chance to spend more time with you. But on the other hand, he has so many ideas for the different supports. The project clearly excites him and he hasn't been this motivated for a long time. Moreover, your cute yellow dress of the day seemed to be another reminder that you are like sunshine is his life and that everything looks better when you are around.

This morning, he has joined you in the same meeting room and gave you a cup of latte - he knows it's your favorite beverage - that he has bought on its way to the gallery. The sweet gesture didn't go unnoticed by your weak heart and your cheeks did redden. As soon as you two have sat down, Jungkook put his sketchbook and graphic tablet on the desk and explained the different concepts. You were so impressed by his work and how much he has done in just one evening. You couldn't help but being worried that he had not slept well and the dark circles under his beautiful eyes proved you no wrong.

You don't even notice it was lunch time until you hear a knock on the door. You look up and meet a sweet and cute familiar face.

"I didn't want to bother you but I've been waiting for fifteen minutes so I thought that you might have forgotten me"

Jongseob seems embarrassed and is blushing hardly. Your heart immediately melts and your smile widens. This doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook who wonders how many men have stolen your heart. He can't help but feeling jealous. When will his possessiveness stop? Especially when you're not his.

"It's okay. Actually, I lost track of time. Please come in, Seobi"

You get up and give a big hug to Jongseob. The young man is quite impressed by Jungkook. His black outfit has returned and his tattoos are showing up under his oversize t-shirt. He does look intimidating and Jongseob feels a wave of protectiveness towards you, hoping that the stranger didn't give you a hard time.

You have no idea of what is going on in Jongseob's brain and you turn back to Jungkook.

"Let's meet up in two days so you have time to make the changes we've talked about. Then, we will show everything to Aecha" You say with a smile and Jungkook simply nods.

You notice the way he is staring at your young friend and realize that they don't know each other.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't introduce you-" You are cut off by Jongseob

"I'm Kim Jongseob"

You are surprised by his confident and quite cold tone. It's so not like him. You even feel his arm easily wrapping around your shoulders. When did he get this tall? You look at him, asking him with your eyes what the hell he is doing. But Jongseob is completely focus on the black-hair man.

"Jeon Jungkook"

Jongseob's eyes widen and immediately turn to you. Your face expression confirms what he thinks: it's the man who broke your heart. If you didn't say a word on your Graduation Day, you couldn't lie when a few days later Jongseob has asked you about how it went when you confessed your feelings to your crush. Even if you tried really hard to not cry in front of him, you couldn't stop a few tears. Jongseob was so heartbroken for you and has spent the day with you at your place, eating ice-creams and watching Disney movies.

The body of your usual so cute friend tenses immediately and he leaves your shoulders to step in front of you, protectively. His eyes narrow when he gazes at Jungkook.

"I hope he hasn't done anything to you" He says with his jaw clenched, talking to you but looking at Jungkook

A scoff escapes Jungkook's lips. Who the hell is this kid? He doesn't know anything about him and yet, he is judging him. Only if he knew that at his age, Jungkook was... No, it's better if he doesn't know, otherwise you would know too. And he surely doesn't want you to know.

"Jongseob" You say softly, a hand on his shoulder "Jungkook is working with me, everything is fine"

"Can't someone else deal with him? Why it has to be you?" His voice is more gentle now and he is looking at you, finally

"No, and it's okay. I promise"

"What are you going to do about it, uh?"

Your eyes widen in surprise while Jungkook smirks and then pokes his tongue in his inner cheek in a provocative way. He doesn't even know why he opened his mouth in the first place. Maybe he was just tired of everyone treating him like shit or maybe he wanted you to know that your little guy couldn't compete with him. 'Stupid fucking ego' he thinks.

"What did you say?" Jongseob responds aggressively, taking a step further and Jungkook does the same

"I said, what are you fucking going to do about it?" Jungkook articulates each single word, his jaws clenched

You start to panic and take place between the two men.

"Stop it now, the both of you" You try to be firm but your voice is a little shaky

"You were right, he's a fucking asshole" Jongseob goads

"What did you say?" Jungkook barks this time, ready to throw punches in this little fucker's face

"Jongseob!" You shout "Go wait outside, now"

You are so tensed that your whole body is shaking with adrenaline. What are you going to do if they start fighting? But you release the air of your lungs when Jongseob does as you say. You look at Jungkook to try to know what he is thinking but his features are too neutral, except for his gritted teeth.

"Jungkook, I-I never said that" You try after a moment of silence

"It's okay" He sighs, trying to relax the tension in his body "Even if you said it, you had every reason"

You stand in front of him, not knowing what to do. You are unsettled when a little sneer escapes Jungkook's mouth. You look at him, questioning him with your eyes.

"At least you have people to protect you"

"Jungkook-"

"No, it's okay. I see you on Friday with the finished visuals and support designs"

Jungkook grabs his stuff and goes away, leaving you breathless and heart pounding.

————

"Noona, I'm sorry"

Jongseob has spent the whole lunch apologizing but you haven't said a word. You are so disappointed in his behavior but you are also destabilized by the way you feel angry at your friend for attacking Jungkook. You shouldn't feel that way, it's true that Jungkook broke your heart but why do you still want your friends to have a good impression of him? It doesn't make any fucking sense and you sigh in frustration.

"Stop apologizing. What you did was wrong Jongseob"

"I know but he... he was just there and he broke your heart! Are you really okay working with him?!"

You take the time to think. Are you okay with it? Honestly, yes. And more honestly, you are happy to work with him. You wish the reason of that was because Jungkook works well but it's not: the reason is that you want to be with him, in anyway possible.

"Yes, so please stop. Maybe you don't want to hear it or you don't understand but Jungkook is nice"

"How can you say that?!" Jongseob gasps

"He is, really. What he did to me was wrong but beside that, he has been really nice to me"

And it's true. Objectively, the cheating-on-his-girlfriend-with-you part put aside, Jungkook has been nice to you. The two days you have spent working with him showed you a new face of him: the passionate yet so considering of other's opinions side. He has carefully listened to you, has taken the time to explain to you technical things about designs and has worked hand-in-hand with you to provide the perfect visuals. Even beside that, the morning coffee and the way he has hold the chair for you to sit down or the way he has turn off the A/C when he noticed you were cold, proves he is a good person. Maybe a little selfishly too, you want to believe that you have fallen for a good guy and not a shit head so the whole story wasn't you being completely wrong about him.

"Look, I'm a big girl. I know you're worried but everything's fine, Seobi" You smile at Jongseob, trying to calm him down

"Okay..." He sighs "But if he tries anything, please tell me and I swear I'll punch him in the face, just for him to know he can't mess with you"

Your heart softens at his pouty face and you promise. You know Jongseob just wants to protect his Noona but deep down you know Jungkook won't try to hurt you again.

————

You haven't heard of Jungkook until he shows up on Friday for your expected meeting. You have sweaty hands, not knowing how will be things between the two of you. You give him an unsure smile when you welcome him and you feel released that Jungkook is back to his old and nice self. He shows you the final project and everything is perfect. You compliment his work and you may notice a slight blush on his cheeks.

You waste no time and you two head up to Aecha's office so she can approve, what she definitely does. Your colleague is really impressed and praises the both of you. Your chest is full of pride that you managed the situation. You are really excited to be more involved in one of the gallery's projects.

To celebrate your success, you invite Jungkook at a nearby coffee. It doesn't surprise you anymore that Jungkook orders you a latte but it's appealing to your weak and soft heart. Coffees in hands, you sit down at a table.

"I'm so happy that your visuals have been approved! I can't wait to see the posters in real life and on the big screens of the gallery!" You tell him excited, which makes him giggle.

"I'm glad too. Tell me if you need help with the printer guy, I know that sometimes they can be a little hard to handle and delay things until you lose your mind"

"I'll sure do"

You feel so good joking with Jungkook. It feels like before you discovered about Mina, back when everything was so natural and delightful between you two. A small wave of nostalgia washes over your body and a small part of you wishes you didn't know about the girlfriend. However, the bigger part of you feels better to know that he didn't cheat on his girlfriend with you more than that.

"I have to tell you something"

Jungkook's serious tone and face make you stressed. You wonder what other bomb he is going to throw at you and how you'll manage to survive. 'Please, tell me there is no other secret girlfriends!' You pray

"Mina" He starts and your heart sinks by hearing the name, you still feel so guilty towards her even if you didn't know "She is not my girlfriend"

What the hell?!

Your eyes almost roll of your sockets by surprise. You are speechless. Does he lie? But he is looking straight into your eyes and you don't see anything but pain. But if she is not his girlfriend, why did he lie about lying to you? It doesn't make sense!

"She is my best friend, well at least back in Busan"

"But, why?" Is all you manage to say, your brain is completely upside down

"It's just an old habit of us, saying to other people we're dating. When we were younger, we were so close that most people thought that we were actually a couple. At some point, it was kind of a joke to confirm it"

Jungkook's nostalgic smile is not happy but quite sad and your heart squeezes. You wonder what caused him such pain but you don't want to push him.

"Maybe, back then, there were more than friendly feelings between us but it's not the case anymore. I just want you to know that nothing happened between Mina and I"

"Why'd you tell me that?"

Jungkook's eyes grow big in surprise. He doesn't really know why he tells you the truth. Perhaps he just doesn't want you to hurt because of this, because of him.

"I don't know..." He sighs "I just wanted you to know"

You don't know what you feel. On the one hand, you are relived that he didn't cheat on his girlfriend with you, but on the other hand, you are still heartbroken because he has still rejected you - and the reason was not him having a girlfriend but just not wanting to be with you. And that hurts like hell.

Jungkook looks at you with his big doe eyes, biting on his bottom lip, while he waits for you to say something. But honestly, you don't know what to say. So he keeps going:

"I haven't seen her in years but she came up to me. She needed some help. Things are-were complicated. I'm sorry if I hurt you, I really didn't want that"

"I understand" You don't but what else could you say?

"Y/N" He says gently, grabbing your hand at the other side of the table "I am really, really sorry"

The warmth of his hand goes straight to your heart and cheeks. Why does he have to do that? It's so hard not to fall for him when he acts like that! You want to hug him and tell him you forget everything as long as he is with you. But you can't do that, so you smile instead.

"I wish I could go back and do things right with you. Maybe... maybe we could be friends or something?"

Jungkook winces at the way his thoughts have turned into words. It sounds so dumb and it's not really what he wanted to say. He wanted to ask you if you would accept to see him again, like before. Like when you were supposed to have a date at the Lotte aquarium.

"I guess we could be friends" You say in a small voice, almost a whisper

Jungkook's heart jumps in his chest and he knows he'll try everything to make it up to you. But first, he has to deal with Mina.

————

Since you have done a great job with the communication campaign with Jungkook, Aecha sends you over to meet the print firm. You are walking around in Seocho, a district of Seoul, but take the time to follow the Han River boardwalk. The heat and humidity is almost unbearable but the view is so beautiful. The sun is mirroring on the water. You close your eyes, feeling the D Vitamin entering your body. You hum in contentment.

Nevertheless, the universe couldn't let you in peace for five minutes. Your blood runs cold when a familiar but non welcoming face appears right in front of you. Mina. You don't really know how to act in front of her now that you know she isn't really Jungkook's girlfriend.

"Hi" You tell her with an unsure voice

"Hi, Y/N right?"

Mina's smile is bright but not really friendly. Something in her behavior makes you uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I can't stay long, Jungkook is waiting for me at home" She takes a dig at you

Her little scornful tone drives you crazy. Before you can even think properly, you open your mouth:

"Jungkook told me the truth. You are not really together"

For one second, Mina seems unsettled but she hides it quickly. You feel your heart beating faster and your hands freezing, just as if you were ready for a fight. It might not be a physical one but it will surely be punches with words.

"Did he?"

You stay silent, waiting for her to set the mood. You don't have hard feelings for her. You could be friends, if she wants to.

"Look, you seem like a nice girl" Although it doesn't sound like a compliment in her mouth "But I'm not sure you are the good person for Kookie"

"I think he's old enough to decide for himself"

"We might not be an official couple but we do share something special. We've been best friends for years, we have been through so many things, you won't ever be able to understand. I know him but I'm not sure you can say the same"

You are taken aback.

"I-I do know him" You sound less confident than you wanted

"Oh, really? Did he tell you about his past?" Mina smirks and you frown, confirming what she was thinking "I just don't want you to be hurt, Y/N. Jungkook and I are meant to be together. It might take some time but it will happen eventually. If you stay in between, you'll only get your heart broken"

Your watery eyes blur your vision. You don't know how Mina manages to do it but her words are so sharp that you could swear she is telling the truth. Maybe it's a result of her magnetic aura.

"I love him"

It's the final blow for you. An intense squeeze hits your cardiac muscle. You don't even know who you are anymore. You have read too many books, you have seen too many movies not to know. All along, you thought you were the main character of the story. But you're not. You're the second female lead in Jungkook's story: the one who only exists to make him realize that his true love has been in front of him since the beginning. There is no better destiny than two best friends finally aware of their true feelings. Fate, cruel as ever, put you on Jungkook's path for him to acknowledge that Mina is the right one for him.

And that fucking hurts.

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