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russellsppttemplates · 9 months ago

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I'll never give up on you (Franco Colapinto)

You think your age is an obstacle, but Franco is set on proving you otherwise

Note: english is not my first language. It's the big doe eyes, the curly hair and the fact that he's very funny, isn't it? It's a very crappy situation for everyone how they got here, everyone recognises that. This is also the first time I'm writing for him 🤍 I always feel and know I have to put this - for those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is slightly older than Franco (three years), alludes to previous bad relationships, alcohol consumption, relationship insecurity, reader gets accidentally hurt

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

"You look gorgeous, Y/N! I love love love this!", Olivia squealed, clapping her hands when she got to your bedroom.

"It's nothing special", you blushed at her compliments.

"It will catch some eyes, you will catch some eyes!", she smiled, "can you help me with my dress, please?", she turned around so you could zip her up.

You and your bestfriend Olivia shared an apartment in university, and once you entered into the job market, you quickly realised that it would be best to keep the same living situation, knowing you'd save some money in a beginner salary and you both felt comfortable about eachother. Her boyfriend Mark had just got a work promotion and he wanted to celebrate it with his friends, so you had been invited.

"Who else is going to be there?", you mused as you packed the essentials on your small purse.

"Some guys from the new department he's in now, Luke - the one we met a couple of weeks ago at the shops -", she began listing the names she recalled, "Amber, and Franco, I think - he doesn't have a race this week", Olivia said.

"Oh, okay", you smiled.

Franco Colapinto knew Mark from one of the teams he had driven for, and despite his career, he was an incredibly down to earth guy. You had met him in a few other occasions and he was funny, kind, always up for a challenge and not easy to persuade out of things. "Things" including flirting with you. At first, you thought it was just his nature and posture towards new people, but after realising he only acted like that towards you, and the fact that he kept making advances and going as far as talking to Olivia about it, you knew it was something else.

"You still haven't changed your mind about him? He's such a good match for you, Y/N/N", Olivia pouted.

The premise was simple - Franco was younger than you, and as much as he seemed interested, it would never lead to anything good. He was young, aspiring an amazing career you were sure he would achieve, and frankly, you couldn't see you in there. He would like to party all out, not have responsibilities and certainly not have to date someone older than him. And this was just at the top of your head - if you let your insecurities really work you up, there were many other reasons.

"We are not! If we did date, it wouldn't last long and I'm not up for that - I've learned my lesson", you tsked.

"You know he's very into you, I'm not sure you can get him to back down", Olivia advised, "I get that you have your walls, but maybe you could give him a chance?".

"He'll probably find someone else, if he hasn't already - now let's go!", you pulled her with you, not wanting to arrive late.

Once you were inside, you quickly spotted the group, greeting everyone and ordering some drinks.

"You're sure you don't want anything else?", Mark wondered.

"I don't feel like drinking anything strong today, but I'll toast to your promotion - congratulations again!", you hugged him.

"Careful, everyone!", you heard the argentinian accent call out, getting you to make room on the table so the bartender could set the tray with all the drinks, "Hello, Y/N, how are you?".

Turning to face Franco, you were instantly met with his bright smile, shiny eyes and wavy hair perfectly tousled, "Hi, I've been good, and you?".

"Even better now that you're here", he winked, "you look amazing by the way, that colour looks beautiful on you", he complimented.

Hoping the dim lighting hid your blushing cheeks you nodded, taking the coaster to our your drink on before looking at him, "thanks, it's not new or anything", you brushed him off.

The night was on a good roll until you came back from freshening up in the bathroom - just as you were about to sit on the high stool, a guy pushed his friend in a playful manner, only for him to accidentally hit you and making you hit your knee on the piece of furniture.

"Fuck", you mumbled, bracing yourself against the table as the sharp pain climbed up your leg no matter how much your hand tried to soothe it.

Before you could process the whole thing, a large hand was placed low on your back, "are you okay, Y/N? What happened?".

"It was us, I'm so sorry", one of the guys apologised as he carried his friend to their table, "do you want me to get something? Again, I'm so sorry".

"It's fine, I've got her", Franco dismissed them before looking at you again, "are you okay?", he asked worriedly.

"Of course", you attempted to speak firmly even though you were sure your face said it all. Your mother always told you you weren't a great liar.

Franco didn't seem to be convinced either, and ignoring your words, he bent down to check your knee, "you should sit so it doesn't swell up, and ice it too", he stated, tapping his shoulders for you to support your weight in them and help hoist you up on the stool.

"I'll go get some ice", Olivia offered.

As she excused herself, Franco gingerly touched your knee, fearing that he would hurt you even more, "is this fine?".

"It's not terrible, but it's hurting, like, it's a pulsation", you winced as he squeezed.

"I'm sorry, Y/N", Franco apologised, "just needed to check that it's not broken".

"You don't need to stay here, Olivia is coming back already", you added, watching the rest of the guys back on the pool table after you assured you were fine all things considered.

"You're the only one I care about, the rest can wait", Franco spoke.

"Look at that group over there", you pointed with your eyes, "wouldn't you prefer to hang out with them?".

The balloons let you know it was one of the girl's 20th birthday, and judging by the way they were looking in your direction, they noticed you too. Or Franco, you assumed.

"I've told you, I don't care about them, now where is the ice?", he muttered, looking around in hopes of spotting your friend in the darkened room.

"She's coming back", you pointed out.

The ice pack seemed to help relieve the pain and perhaps help with the bruising you were sure was going to take over your knee, "Franco, you can go be with the guys, I'll be fine", you reassured him again, "or be with the girls over there, they're very keen on you", you nudged.

Franco looked up at you, his gaze intense and serious, "those girls don't interest me", he replied, "you're the only one I care about".

There it was again.

"Don't say that", you tried to push it away before it dwelled on, "they're all very pretty, your age I'm sure".

Franco smiled softly as his eyes remained fixated on you, "who I pay attention to is you, you're the one I've always paid attention to", he spoke, not caring about the fact that Olivia was right there as she seemed distracted, "I don't care about their age or what they do. They're not you, and I want to be with you, so I'll stay here with you", he stated.

You heart took a lep, and even though you wished you could say something rational, something that made sense, the way he was looking into your eyes didn't let you. There was honesty and sincerity that never seemed to fail and that you could never ignore.

"Let me help you", Franco spoke softly, "right now, you're the only thing worrying me".

Hesitating, you allowed him to adjust the ice pack and keep talking to you about random stuff to take your mind away from the state of your knee, and for the first time in a while, it felt good to let someone else take care of you.

"Do you really think that we won't workout because of our age difference?", Franco spoke.

Mark and Olivia went to get coffee for all of you and left you and Franco on the picnic blanket to save the spot and keep your belongings safe. The plan for the afternoon was to enjoy the sun outside and while you were sure your bestfriend had something to do with this whole arrangement, you decided to let it slip and focus on relaxing for the afternoon.

"What?", you mused.

"You always point out that you're older than me, and whenever I make any advances, which I assume you're not too blind about, you never say yes, but don't say no either", he offered, "is it an obstacle?".

"We're good, aren't we?", you spoke.

"We could be better", Franco spoke and he supported his torso on his hands on his sides, "do you know how much I care about you?".

"We're friends", you replied.

"And you're telling me we couldn't be more?", Franco wondered.

"You have so many things to do still, I can't imagine you'd want to be tied to a 24 year old with a job and mundane responsibilities", you chuckled.

"Is that what it is? Do you really think our age difference is an obstacle?", he spoke softly.

"I can't say with such certainty", you mumbled.

"Can I keep on showing you that it isn't?", Franco spoke.

"I'm very stubborn", you recalled, "and I don't want you to waste your time".

"I'm not going to pressure you, but I'm not going to stop trying to show you how much you mean to me - you're very important in my life, Y/N".

"Did you salt the water already?", Franco asked as he grabbed the pasta from the cupboard.

"I did", you told him as you chopped the peppers and onions to add to the sizzling pan.

Franco happened to be around the area for lunch, and after he saw your story about being on your own, playfully claiming that Olivia had abandoned you, he offered to keep you company. Taking Olivia's advice that you should give him a chance and explore what you felt for eachother, you invited him over for lunch.

"Can I ask you something?", Franco asked as he dried his hands on the kitchen towell, throwing it to you so you could do the same.

"Now I'm worried...", you joked, "but sure, go ahead".

The smell of garlic browning in the pan filled the kitchen as you added the rest of the veggies, and you could feel the driver's eyes watching you. Up until now, the atmosphere was light, but there was an unspoken tension at the prospect of the question.

Franco couldn’t take it anymore. He was spending time with you whenever he could, getting closer little by little, but he felt there was a wall. A wall that you held strong, despite your shared glances and conversations that often stretched into the night.

“Why…”, he paused for a second, as if he was choosing his words carefully, “why do you keep pushing me away?”.

You stopped stirring the pan, slowly setting down the spoon aside and turned to face him.

“What are you talking about?”, you asked even though you knew exactly what he meant.

Franco turned fully to face you, his eyes fixed on yours, “You know what I’m talking about,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, "I’ve been trying to… get closer to you. You know how I feel about you, but every time I take a step toward you, you back away. There’s something you’re not saying, and I want to understand why, and if it's the age thing...", Franco let it out.

You sighed, fiddling with your hands as you gathered your thoughts.

“It’s not simple", you murmured, looking down at your feet.

"Then explain it to me", Franco's voice was calm, but insistent, "because from my side, it seems very simple. I like you. You like me, or at the very least you don't seem to hate me and…”, he hesitated, leaning a little closer, "whatever is stopping you… I can deal with it, we can talk about it".

Your heart raced as you looked up at him, "the age difference", you began hesitantly, “we’re from different worlds, different lives. You have so many options, people around you who… who are more in your vibe and in the line of life you can have. I’ve been through things you haven’t even begun to experience. What makes you think this… us, would be a good idea?", you mused.

Franco took a deep breath, taking a step closer until he was almost touching you, “What makes me think this would be a good idea? That we may have something to explore here? Have a shot at something good together?”, he repeated, looking directly into your eyes, "because every time I’m with you, I feel like I’m in the right place. Because no matter how much you think age is relevant, for me, what matters is how you make me feel. I’m not interested in anyone else, because you’re the one I want to explore these feelings with".

You fell silent, feeling his words invade her defenses. No one ever stood up for you like this.

“Age?”, he continued, "That doesn’t scare me. What scares me is losing you for a reason that, in the end, has no bearing on how I feel about you. You're so amazing and I don't want to lose that".

You bit your lip, feeling yourself wavering between the logic you had always used as a shield and what Franco was doing to your heart at that moment.

He took another step forward and gently placed his hand over yours, “I just need you to tell me… is it really age, or is it something more? Because if it’s just that… then we have a lot more to gain than we have to lose.”

You looked at his hand on hers and, for the first time, let yourself relax a little, allowing your brain to consider the possibility.

“What if it doesn’t go well?”, you whispered, voice hesitant and full of vulnerability, "I don't want to make a promise I can't keep, and I haven't let myself explore these feelings yet and... I don't want to hurt you, Franco".

"Y/N", he sighed softly with unexpected tenderness, “What if it does?", he smiled, "I'm not going to pressure you, and from the moment you tell me that there's no interest, I'll stop and we can remain friends. What I'm asking you is that you consider it first... take your time, I'll wait".

In a moment of confidence, Franco cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead, and for that moment you allowed your wall to lower a little more.

The good thing about the hot temperatures outside was that most people had taken their Saturday plans to the beach or the pool, so there was less traffic on your way home. You parked your car in the building's underground garage and went up the stairs to the floor where the apartment you share with Olivia is. Judging by how late you left work, your best friend must be home given that she has the free afternoon on Saturdays.

Turning the key in the lock and opening the door, you find a completely dark apartment, which is strange considering you left the blinds half open this morning to let in sunlight. As soon as you step inside, closing the front door behind you, you're surprised by lights that suddenly turn on and a chorus of voices singing the Happy Birthday song.

You hadn't felt in the right mood to celebrate your birthday this year, given and the changes from studying and the stress of your new job, so to say you were caught off guard by this surprise was an understatement. You had told Olivia that you could have something special for dinner to celebrate the day, and while she insisted a little more, she ended up dropping the subject. And you thought that meant the had agreed to your simple plans - that morning, she caught you when you were having your breakfast, wished you happy birthday and gave your her gift, a very simple necklace with a medal with your initial in it, and didn't make any more fuss.

You definitely didn't expect her to be preparing a surprise like this for you.

Besides Olivia and Mark, Franco is the first person you see in the living room of your apartment - which makes you feel a little bad about yourself considering you hadn't even told him that today was your birthday. Besides the three of them, Maria and Julia, your two closest friends from school, were also present, as well as Pedro, one of your best friends from high school that moved to another city, and as it turns out, came all the way to your party.

When the chanting ends, Olivia approaches you with the cake so that you can blow out the candles, everyone's attention still on you. You know you should say something, but right now, you were completely surprised, and talking under pressure was never your strongest suit.

"Thank you everyone!", is all you can say at first, earning laughs from your friends.

You rolled up the blinds, as they had been down so the surprise had full effect and opened the windows, allowing the air to circulate as everyone gathered in the living room, picking at the foods and drinking on the table you were sure were Olivia's doing for the small celebration.

She is the first one you turn to, tapping her shoulder softly.

"I know... I know you said you weren't in the mood to celebrate, but I thought that this is actually what you need - being with the people that adore you and care about you", Olivia goes first before you can utter out a word, "so, please, just enjoy this, okay?".

"Thank you, Liv", you smiled as you pulled her into a hug, "I can't believe that you went through all this trouble".

"It wasn't too much trouble, and Franco helped a lot", she answered, "the guy didn't even know what day your birthday was, Y/N... That's cruel!", she jokes, to which you roll your eyes.

"I probably forgot about that detail", you answer with a giggle, "thanks again".

"Stop being annoying and enjoy it", your best friend says, joining her boyfriend Mark's and Pedro's conversation.

You take the opportunity to greet Mark and then Pedro, who you haven't seen in person for a long time, "I can't believe you came all this way for this!", you exclaim.

"Of course I came! Olivia told me all the news and not only could I not miss your birthday, but I couldn't not come at a time like this", Pedro explains, "besides, how long has it been since we've been together in person?".

"Too long", you reply with a smile on your lips.

"Exactly! We need to catch up!", your friend exclaims, earning your agreement, "but go greet the rest of your guests first and we'll talk more later", he squeezed your shoulder.

You approach Maria and Julia, hugging them both tight. Although you finished your master's degree as they finished their undergraduate just over a year ago, you hadn't seen each other very often since then as work kept you all busy.

"I'm so happy you're here!", you smile, feeling genuinely happy at having all your people together in one room.

"We couldn't miss it. Besides, we've been missing you so much - you were truly a mother to us and I miss being coddled by you -, and we've already noticed that there's news you haven't been telling us...", Julia comments, wiggling her eyebrows and sharing a suggestive smile with Maria.

"What are you talking about?", you wondered with a quirked brow.

"You don't know? I'll tell you then! About Franco Colapinto!", she snickered, "you didn't tell us you were that close", Maria says.

You're quick to roll your eyes - a common response at her usual antics over the years -, "I told you we were friends", you recall.

"Yes, but we didn't know you were that close!", Julia insists.

"I see your annoying curiosity hasn't ceased", you joked, rolling your eyes again, "Anyway, thanks for being here, I really appreciate it", you joined your hands over your heart before excusing yourself.

Your eyes are quick to search for Franco, but you can't find him in the room. A few seconds later, you spot him returning from the hallway, assuming he had gone to the bathroom or had to take a phone call.

"I should be mad at you for conveniently forgetting to tell me when it was your birthday...", Franco starts, to which you shrug your houlders, trying to put on your best angelic and innocent face.

"I know, I'm sorry... with everything going on, I barely had time to think what month we were on and I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about it to be honest", you explained, "but I must confess I'm happy Olivia arranged this, and I know you helped a lot, so thank you so much, Franco".

"I get, I was just messing with you", he smiles, "and you don't have to thank me for it, you know I'll always do anything to see you happy".

"I know, and that's why I am so grateful", you smiled back.

"Might as well give you the present I got you now", Franco points out, "give me two seconds so I can get it from where Mark told me to put it so it wouldn't be in the way of Olivia's plans and before she started staring at me with her 'I'm going to chop your head off' eyes", he chuckled.

You nodded and waited long enough for Franco to pick up a bag and give it to you, " I racked my brain to decide what I should gift you, because nothing seemed good enough, but I hope you like this".

Undoing the bow keeping the paper bag together, you found a copy of your favourite book with a collectable cover. The intricate detailing of the golden foil complimented the colours beautifully and there was a bookmark inside it, the little tassel falling to the side. Taking it to inspect it closely, you read the delicate lettering Don't lose the sparkle that makes you.. you.

"Wow, Franco", you gasped, completely enamoured by the beauty of it all, "this is spot on, I love it!", you exclaimed, hugging him.

"I'm glad", Franco smiles, jokingly wiping sweat off his forehead and making you laugh.

"Have you met my friends?", you wondered.

"Yes, Olivia did all the introductions", the driver answers.

"Good, let's find out what they're going on about", you suggested, setting the present back in a safe place and pulling Franco with you to join the rest of the group.

You spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening chatting, while you eat and drink the things that Franco and Olivia kindly prepared, and playing some board games. At the end of it, you end up having a really good time, in a way that you haven't in a while, feeling really grateful that Olivia had prepared this surprise. Without knowing it, this was exactly what you needed: your friends and some good moments of relaxation.

"Are you leaving already?", you ask Pedro when the young engineer announces his departure.

"I still have to drive back, Y/N, remember?", he reminds you, earning a nod, "but don't worry your heart too much, I'll keep bothering you with messages and calls and stuff... You won't get rid of me that easily".

"Fine by me!", you smiled at him, "thanks for coming, truly!".

"You have nothing to thank me for. I'll be here any time if you need me - I'm a phone call away", he reminds you, "Are you okay?".

"Of course", you smiled, "let me know when you get home, okay?".

"I will. I had a great time meeting you guys today", Pedro waves at everyone, "until next time!", before leaving the apartment.

At around 10pm, Maria and Julia also announce that they need to leave since they would have an early morning. You bid them goodbye to your friends with the promise of a lunch whenever you could find the time to catch up.

"Don't tell me you're chickening out now and going home too?", a slightly tipsy Olivia teases Franco as he got up from the his spot in the sofa.

"I've already told you that I have the day off tomorrow, my friend", Franco teased her back, getting you and Mark to laugh.

"Let's play another round then", Mark suggested, "since there's only four of us now, we can split into two teams and play Party & Co.".

"This is a recipe for disaster if I have ever seen one", you muttered, "Olivia is a terrible loser and you are a racing driver".

"That's why you should want to have me on your team, I'm used to competing", Franco argued in his favor.

"Strong point, argument accepted. Let's do it!", you declared.

During the game, Olivia ends up making up consequences for those who make mistakes, making everyone drink a few sips of their drinks and even Franco joins in with these punishments, arguing that today is an exceptional day to his usual regime.

By the end of the first game, it's clear that you're all drunk, so you make the responsible and sensible decision not to play anymore. Mark and Olivia end up retiring to the room, leaving you with Franco in the living room.

"I hope they don't make too much noise", you point out as you adjust your position on the sofa so that you're facing Franco, making him burst out laughing at your words, "What?! I'm not telling any lies! Have you imagined how uncomfortable it would be for us to be here and hear them having a baby making practice session?".

"You're right, you're right. I hope they don't make much noise", Franco repeats your words and, this time, you both laugh, "So... did you and Pedro date in high school?".

"Did he tell you that?", you ask, unable to contain your giggles.

"Yes, why? Is it a lie?", Franco asks.

"Half, half", you answered with a gesture.

"How is something half half a lie? It's either the truth or a lie", Franco states.

"I had a crush on Pedro, I tried my luck, but nothing ever happened between us", you admitted, deliberately pausing briefly before continuing, "Because Pedro is gay, Franco, and he was clearly making fun of you", you finally let out a laugh that's been bubbling up since he first asked you.

"Are you serious?", Franco mused.

"Yes. Apparently, he found a weak spot in you and decided to exploit it", you answered amused by the situation that must've enrolled when you weren't home yet.

"A weak spot? Nah... We were talking and he just dropped it, I have no idea why", Franco said, shrugging his shoulders.

"What were you talking about?", you wondered.

"Considering we were at your birthday party... We were talking about you", the brown-haired man answers.

"Please continue", you encouraged.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N Y/L/N", Franco declared, but your glare was enough for him to keep going, "He asked me how we met and I told him. And then he told me about you. And he clearly told me a lie".

"Does it make you feel relieved that it's a lie?", you spoke before thinking properly about it. The sudden courage is unusual for you, but you're playing with all your cards on the table.

"I don't know what you're getting at, Y/N", the driver changes the subject, which makes you roll your eyes.

"I know you undertand it, stop acting like you don't. It's a yes or no question - are you relieved or not?!", you insist.

"Honestly? It doesn't do much. If it were true, it would be something from your past, not your present. We both have a past", Franco responds in a somewhat evasive manner.

"But it could be my present again, especially since he was here today", you decided to insist, wanting to understand how far you could push him.

You weren't sure about the game you were playing, and you couldn't quite say that you were thinking clearly, but this feeling of dominance and being in control was enjoyable. Understanding that this was making Franco uncomfortable also made you realize that he wasn't so sure about talking about what he felt for you. The part of you that wants to understand what he really feels for you is ignited, and you can't tame it down.

After the conversation you had, Franco didn't make any advances and never showed that he wanted more than a friendship, which, in a way, left you at ease, but also perhaps a little disappointed. Had he realised that you weren't worth it?

"Honestly, I don't know what you're getting at...", Franco pretends not to understand again, which makes you sigh loudly, "What's wrong?".

"What I'm trying to understand is if what he said to you bothered you or not. And if so, why. But clearly you are not ready to admit it", you state.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N... You're trying to cross a very complicated line", he warns.

"Why?", you keep going.

"Because you asked for time and space and I gave it to you. And now you're trying to cross a line that I've been trying not to cross, because I'm trying to respect your wishes", Franco answers, this time sincerely.

"That's true, I asked you for time and space and you gave it to me. And I appreciate it", you begin, "but... I know I'm getting closer to that line, maybe I'm even playing a dangerous game too, but I'm doing it consciously".

"What if you're not ready for my honest answers?", Franco argues.

"Well, that's a me problem, isn't it?", you shrugged your shoulders, "can I ask my questions and get back honest answers?", and Franco's answer comes out in form of an unhappy sigh followed by a nod of agreement, "did what Pedro told you bother you? Did it bother you to think that we had dated and that he was back here?".

"Like I told you, we both have a past", Franco avoids the question. Tries to, anyway.

"Honest answers, Franco!", you exclaimed, pleading in exasperation, "of course we have a past, but I'm not going to give the past a shot and I think you won't do again what you did before! With Pedro, it would be different, because if we had dated and he was here, that would mean we had a good relationship. So, I'm going to repeat the question again, and I want you to give me an honest answer - did it bother you or not?".

"It bothered me!", Franco suddenly exclaim, "do you want honest? Here it goes! Yes, it bothered me exactly because of what you just said. Even if, by some act of the devil, your other boyfriend came back into your life, I know for a fact that he would never have another chance with you. However, if you had dated Pedro and if he was here today, it meant that he had a chance with you. And if he had a chance with you, then he was someone I would have to look at as competition".

"And now that you know that there never was and there never could be anything between me and Pedro?", you ask him.

"It makes me feel a little less worried. It means that I still have time to try to continue to mend the damage that others have caused, it means that I can still work to show you how much you mean to me and how high I hold you in my life", Franco replies in a calm and honest tone, which surprises you.

Faced with his words, this time, you are the one who doesn't know what to say. You did ask for honesty and there it was.

"You wanted honest answers...", Franco argues, as if he could guess what was on your mind. Lately, it seemed like he could do it effortlessly.

"I know, I'm not complaining", you admitted, "Does that mean that what you feel for me goes beyond friendship?", you ask directly. You needed to hear it from his mouth.

"What can my answer change in our relationship?", Franco asks, not answering your question.

"Nothing. I won't walk away from you this time, I promise. I just need to know", you clarified.

"Do you really want me to be one hundred percent honest with you?", Franco asks.

"Yes, please", you ask.

"Yes, what I feel for you goes beyond friendship. I tried not to let it be like that, I tried to pretend that I wasn't falling in love with you, but there's no way to control what we feel", he declares honestly without ever stopping to fix his gaze on yours, "Every time I look at you, I see someone with whom I can imagine a future... And I know how hasty this may seem, and I know your reservations about us, but it's simply how I feel. You asked me to be honest and I'm being as honest as I can... But I don't want to lose you, Y/N. In fact, I can't lose you, because, the moment that happens, I think I'll end up losing myself too", Franco stated.

His words leave you completely disarmed, not knowing what to say. Looking at it, you don't think anyone has ever said something like that to you. The words overwhelm you and there doesn't seem to be a right thing to tell him back.

"Can we just forget I said all this?", Franco says, "I don't want things to get awkward between us".

"But I don't want to forget it", you answer quickly, "It was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me".

Judging it by Franco's expression, he was also caught off guard by your words, probably because he thought this would change your relationship again and brung unwanted distance between you.

Truth was, you weren't going to run away anymore. You didn't want to, and you couldn't do it.

Yes, you were scared, but you knew you need to move on. The comfort zone can be very good, but no boat was made to stay at the dock and you needed to drop the anchor and launch yourself into the unknown. Besides, you know that, in a few years time, you won't like to look back and regret what you didn't do.

"Can I ask you the question back, then?", Franco tries and you nod, "Is what you feel for me just friendship? Or something more?".

"I don't have an answer as assertive and confident as yours, but I know that I look at you and I don't see you just as a friend. You are very special to me, Franco. You are the person I want to talk to about everything, the good and the bad. You are the person who I know will never judge me, who will always try to understand me and help me. After all, you were the first person I was able to trust one hundred percent", you admit, "and I'm still figuring out how I'm supposed to allow myself to believe in love again after everything that happened, but I really wish you were by my side on this journey... That you would make me believe in love again", you offered.

"I don't like to make promises, Y/N/N, but there's one thing I'm absolutely sure of - I'll do everything in my power to make you believe in love again", Franco says, pulling you into his lap and embracing you in a hug that makes you feel safer than ever.

When Franco called you and asked if you could join him in the park, you were quick to let him know you were leaving work and heading to meet him. The past two weeks had been crazy with him travelling to races and you visiting your family, so texting had become the way you found to maintain contact.

As soon as you spot him by the trees, you walk a little faster, hugging him as soon as you are able to, "can I say that I've missed you?", you joked.

"I missed you loads, so I think it's only fair you tell me", he smiled, "Hi, how was your day?", he asked as he squeezed you against him.

"I missed you", you spoke, "and it was good, better now that I'm here".

Lately, your walls had lowered progressively - Franco's reassurance and a constant defiance of your thoughts had helped you break down the worries you had. Olivia pointed it out, everyone noticed how much happier you were, and even Franco could sense you were feeling more comfortable.

You end up sitting so close to each other that your knees touch and you rest your arm on Franco's and let your head fall on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a few seconds and just inhaling his scent.

"I...", Franco begins but soon stops before saying anything else.

"What is it?", you ask, raising your head to look at him.

"Nothing, nevermind", he shrugs.

"I don't like it when people say that to me. If you were going to say something, don't tell me to forget about it", you state firmly, "Whatever you were going to say, you can say it. Always. I will never judge anything you tell me. I know you, okay, Franco?".

"Yes, but...", he sighs, "I think I'm missing the courage".

"Please, just say it!", you exclaim, starting to get anxious and worried about his hesitation, "Is it something serious? Is there a problem?".

"No, nothing like that!", he clarified.

"Okay, then...", you encouraged.

"It's about a conversation I had with my mother", he says and, although you don't say a word, your expression lets him know he can continue, "about you".

"About me?", you ask curiously.

"She doesn't know it's you, but... It was about us and about what I feel for you", he offers.

At these words, your heart suddenly accelerates, "she told me that life is supposed to be lived and that..", he gulps.

You remain silent, because you don't know if ot what your supposed to answer. There's nervousness and anxiety as you're not sure exactly where this conversation is going to end up at.

"We can't predict the future, we don't know how much time we have", Franco spoke, "what I mean by this is that I've been thinking that, many times, we waste time on things that, perhaps, don't make that much sense. And I think I've been wasting some time in the sense that I've wanted to do things calmly, I've wanted to respect your time and I think I'm the one who's been afraid of taking the next step. I'm too afraid of losing you, but I'm wasting time and we never know when it is too late".

Part of you knows where Franco is going with this, but the other one doesn't fully understand what he's trying to say.

You're nervous, your heart feels like it's beating out of control and there's a lump in your throat. Despite not crying often, you feel the tears right at the back of your eyes, ready to fall at any moment.

"I'm not particularly good with words, Y/N, but what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm madly in love with you. Damn, I'm trying to tell you that I love you. And I know you're scared and I'm scared, because there have been bad experiences, and because what we have is very special and neither of us wants to ruin it. But I think we're wasting time apart when we could make the most of this time together", Franco continues, "I believe we were very lucky to have found each other when we did. I think we had the perfect timing. And every time I look at you, all I can think about is how lucky I am to have found you. I love you, Y/N, and I want to be with you one hundred percent", the brown-haired man stops his speech as if to catch his breath, and then concludes, "That is if you want to be with me, obviously".

What can you say to someone who declares themselves to you in this way? What do you say to someone who has told you everything? How can you say something that comes even close to what you just heard?

"Did I misunderstand everything and after all you don't like me the same way, is that it?", Franco asks, "it's just, your texts and the way you talk, feels like you do".

The insecurity in his voice is the trigger you need for the words to simply come out of your mouth without having to think much about them, "No, it's nothing like that!", you exclaim, "It's just that it's hard for me to say anything after everything you said. I don't want you to doubt for even a second what I feel for you, Franco. I know I haven't been the best person to express my feelings, because when we say things out loud, they become real. And I was so afraid to admit the truth, so much so that I preferred not to say it. But you're right. Life changes in the blink of an eye and it doesn't make sense to keep leaving things unsaid or undone and wasting time. I'm in love with you, Franco. A part of me has wished, since the moment you made an effort for me, that I could have someone like that by my side, willing to protect me, take care of me and be there for me. I have no doubt that my life has changed for the better because you came into it. And I should have told you all this sooner, because you deserve to hear all this and much more. You are an extraordinary person and you deserve to be happy. And I want to be able to make you happy", you stop for a few seconds, taking a deep breath and gathering all the courage in the world to say the dreaded words out loud, "I love you and there is nothing I want more in this world than to be with you and be your girlfriend".

Despite all the nervousness you felt when expressing your feelings, the relief that follows leaves you feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulder. Suddenly, you understand that fear paralyzes people and prevents them from moving forward.

The fear of not being enough for Franco, that he couldn't possibly have a girlfriend older than him and the fear that he would suffer from that was what was holding you back, stopping you from being happy. Now that you got that off your chest, that you said what you feel out loud, you realise you're ready to be happy again with someone else.

The smile that appears on Franco's lips makes your day. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you towards him, pressing your lips together.

You close your eyes and savour every second of the moment: from the way his hand is resting on your waist, while the other caresses your cheek, to the way his lips slide over your and your tongues touch.

When you break the kiss, needing to breathe, you keep your eyes closed for a fraction of a second, enjoying the sensation his lips left on yours.

"I have something to ask of you", you say, opening your eyes.

Franco's arm continues wrapped around you and you remain very close to him without moving, appreciating the closeness.

"Whatever you want", Franco says.

"Don't give up on me. Whenever I try to push you away, pull me to you. Whenever I yell at you because I'm angry, hug me. If I don't answer your texts or calls, look for me. When I feel too insecure, remind me that I'm the only one and how lucky I am to have you. If I'm giving up on us, kiss me and remind me why I shouldn't give up. And I know this is asking too much, but I know you love me enough to do this, to stay with me. I promise to do the same with you, to never give up", you declare.

"I promise, mi amor. I'll never give up on you, not even if you ask me to", Franco smiles as you cup his cheek, bringing your faces closer once again to kiss him.

#franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto fluff #franco colapinto fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

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storiesforallfandoms · 11 months ago

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i'd find you in any life ~ eric; a quiet place day one

word count: 3614

request?: no

description: in which two idiots in love find their way back to each other after the end of the world

pairing: eric x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, spoilers for aqpdo, mentions of death, mentions of the quiet place aliens, end of the world type beat

masterlist (one, two, three)

Day One

The little bell over the door chimed to signal the first customer she'd seen in nearly an hour. She stifled an eye roll and bookmarked her novel, only to find it was her favorite customer.

"Hey Eric!"

Eric smiled at her. She was glad to be leaning against the counter because his smile never failed to make her weak in the knees.

"Working hard, or hardly working?" Eric asked, mirroring her leaning position across from her.

"Oh, very clearly working hard," she responded, gesturing to her book. "I'm almost finished my book."

"Very hard work indeed."

(Y/N) chuckled. "Want your usual?"

"Of course. And one of those delicious looking chocolate chip muffins."

(Y/N) playfully salted and went to make Eric's usual coffee order.

Eric had been coming to the coffee shop (Y/N) worked at for months now. He had came in first one morning before one of his classes, in a rush and asking her to make him anything with caffeine as quickly as she could. She quickly made him a coffee and he threw a $20 bill at her, telling her to keep the change. He came back the next day to thank her, and to tell her it was the best coffee he ever had. She made him another and insisted it was on the house.

It was the start of Eric being a regular customer, as well as being the start of his and (Y/N)'s friendship.

Eric watched her work to make his coffee. "You know, one of these days I'll figure out what you do to make such good coffee."

She smiled at him over her shoulder. "It's just coffee! I don't even do anything special with it."

"But it's the best coffee I've had! I can't even make coffee this good."

"I make it with love."

She quickly turned away to pretend she was making his coffee. Really, she was trying to hide the look of embarrassment on her face. The second the words had left her mouth, she regretted it.

Of course (Y/N) had a crush on Eric. You'd be crazy not to. On a surface level, he was extremely handsome. He had the biggest, brownest eyes she had ever seen, the prettiest face, and a smile that made her feel like she was flying. Not to mention that British accent of his, which was way too easy to fall for. And then she got to know him and she found herself falling even deeper in love with his personality. He was the sweetest person she had ever met. She'd be crazy not to develop feelings for him.

The question then, she knew, was why did she never tell Eric how she felt about him?

As kind as Eric was, and as much as she considered him a friend, she knew they weren't meant to be together. Eric was in New York to go to law school. He was going to be a big lawyer, make lots of money and be successful. (Y/N), on the other hand, was in her 20s working in a coffee shop, with no prospects for the future. She didn't know what she wanted in life, but she knew Eric likely wouldn't be a part of it. It was best for him, even if it hurt her.

She poured his coffee into a take away cup and bagged the muffin he asked for. She could barely look at him as she rang in his order. He was looking at her with those big, brown eyes. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to form a coherent sentence if she did.

"Are you on your way to class?" she asked as she took his payment.

"Not for another hour and a half," he replied. "Had to come down to get my coffee first, and was hoping you weren't too busy so I could hang out for a bit."

(Y/N) couldn't fight the smile on her face. "I guess I won't kick you out for loitering."

"As long as I don't get you in trouble."

She scoffed. "Please, you're a paying customer. There's nothing my manager can get upset about. Not that he ever shows up anyways."

Eric paid for his order, and as (Y/N) was getting his change he pulled another $20 bill from his wallet and put it into the tip jar next to the register. (Y/N)'s eyes widened. She grabbed the bill and tried to give it back to Eric.

"That's your tip," he said.

"It's too much, Eric! Just give me your change!"

He shook his head. "You deserve it. I told you, you make the best coffee I've ever had. Not to mention the coffee comes with a side of friendship with a wonderful person."

She tried not to let her smile falter at the word "friends". She knew that's all they were. It was her choice to keep her secrets a secret.

Eric hung around long enough to eat his muffin and drink about half of his coffee. It wasn't until another customer finally came in that they both realized the time and he had to go. (Y/N) said goodbye and Eric promised to come back again the next day. She smiled at him before turning her attention back to her new customer.

Soon, the shop was empty again and (Y/N) found herself missing Eric's presence. Despite being friends, they had yet to exchange phone numbers. Eric had found (Y/N) on social media and asked her if it was okay for him to follow and message her, which of course she said yes. They had messaged back and forth on there, but there was something more intimate about asking for his phone number. Maybe she was just overthinking that. They were already friends, they already spoke outside of when he came to the shop. What harm was there in asking for his number to text whenever they wanted to, and not just when they had internet?

That's it, she thought. I'll do it tomorrow.

(Y/N) was content with her decision, smiling to herself as she was cleaning the coffee machine, when she heard a commotion outside. Through the shop window she could see a crowd forming. She stepped up to the window to see everyone looking at the sky. She followed their gazes to see streaks of light falling from the sky. She thought it was a meteor shower at first, but there was something about it that made her feel off. Like it wasn't just a few space rocks passing over Earth.

She noticed one beam of light was coming closer. Not exactly at her specifically, but close enough for it to be concerning. The crowd in front of the shop suddenly started to move, some of them in a panicked manner. (Y/N) backed away from the window, planning to take cover however she could, but she was too late. There was the sound of an impact a few streets over, followed by rumbling of an aftershock that eventually reached the shop. The last thing (Y/N) remembered was the shop windows exploding and her being thrown back, hitting her head on a nearby table and knocking her out.

~~~~~~

Day 89

"There's a boat coming!"

Eric didn't usually care much to see who was arriving at the island. He was always glad to know that other people had heard and figured out Henri's code to get to safety, but he knew that whoever was coming was not someone for him. He had lost everyone during those first few days - his parents (not that it was ever confirmed, but he knew the likeliness was slim and he'd never get a real confirmation he was sure), Sam.

(Y/N).

There was no reason for him to go watch as new survivors were welcomed to the island, like so many of the others did.

But that day, he was sat outside in the sun eating with Frodo when the call came. Frodo's ears had perked up and, before Eric could stop him, the black and white feline had taken off towards the beach. Eric swore under his breath and got up to follow.

"Even the damn cat is a noisy bugger," Eric muttered to himself.

There was already a small crowd huddled to watch as the small boat coasted onto the island. Henri and a few others were already there, pulling the boat to shore and helping the small handful of survivors off. He was speaking to the first person who had gotten off, a man who shared the same expression that everyone did when they first got there - terror. The confusion and fear of Henri speaking always got to them first, and often times people wouldn't believe Henri when he said that the aliens couldn't reach them because they couldn't survive the water.

Eric was looking for Frodo more than he was paying attention to whoever was getting off the boat. The cat was moving around the people in his way so smoothly, meanwhile Eric had to bump and push his way past everyone, mumbling an apology as he went.

Frodo suddenly ran towards the boat as another person got off. Eric broke through the crowd and chased after Frodo, an apology already on the tip of his tongue for whoever Frodo had ran up to. But the words died before they could come out as he watched the person scoops Frodo up in her arms and look for whoever owned him, her eyes locking on Eric immediately.

"Eric?"

"(Y/N)?"

He was moving before he realized it, his arms around (Y/N) to pull her into a hug. Tears were forming in his eyes as he held her, making sure that she was actually real and not a figment of his imagination.

Frodo grumbled, breaking them apart. He jumped down from (Y/N)'s arms and sat looking between them.

"Is he yours?" she asked.

"Technically yes. He belonged to someone else before, but..." He stopped, the familiar ache in his chest from whenever he thought about Sam. "But he's mine, now."

(Y/N) nodded. She seemed to understand. They had all gone through the same hell, all lost someone. It was hard not to understand.

"Bring her up," Henri said, suddenly appearing next to the two of them. That's when Eric realized that everyone was making their way back to the community. "Unless you both want to keep standing here all day."

Eric shook his head. "No, sorry. (Y/N), come with me."

(Y/N) was shocked upon seeing the community of houses and people, as most survivors are. They were so used to the wreckage that the aliens caused, and all the fear that drove so many into silence, that seeing all these well built houses, and seeing people talking and living without fear, was foreign.

"When was the last time you ate anything?" Eric asked (Y/N). "Or showered? Or had water?"

"A long time," (Y/N) responded to all three questions.

Eric nodded. "I have my own place. Frodo and I were just having lunch, and there's plenty to share. I have a working shower, drinkable water."

"That all sounds perfect," she said. "Lead the way."

Eric showed her to his place. He gave her towels and told her he'd find her clean clothes from one of the other ladies in town. He tried not to linger as she stepped into the bathroom and let the shower run. She'd think he was crazy if she caught him there, debating on going into the shower with her, but it was the only thing on his mind in this moment. Well, besides the desire to kiss her senseless and never let her go again.

Eric had mourned (Y/N). Even before he met Sam and had to mourn her as well, he mourned the coffee shop girl who had became such a good friend to him; who he had loved and never told. When the invasion first started, Eric's first thought wasn't his own survival, but about if (Y/N) had gotten to safety. He had left her in the coffee shop just moments prior, and someone had been with her then, but did that person stay? Did more people come? Was there anyone there to protect her, to get her out? Had she figured out too late that the aliens were attracted to sound?

When he got on the boat to come to the island, he looked at every other survivor that was there with him. He asked around if anyone knew (Y/N), if they knew whether she was there. When they got to the island, he looked at the others who had gotten there first. She was nowhere to be seen, and no one knew of her. He had to come to terms with the fact that she was probably dead, and that made him wish he was, too.

He regretted never telling (Y/N) how he felt. He thought he had lost his chance forever, and that thought haunted him every day. He could hardly believe that she was actually here, that she had survived.

One of his neighbors was gracious enough to give him clothes for (Y/N). He left them outside the bathroom door for her, then went back outside to continue eating. He had gotten the extra food he had planned to put away as leftovers and brought it out for (Y/N) to eat, as well as gotten her a glass of water. Frodo had taken his position hunched over a can of cat food again, eating away as if he were the one who was starved.

(Y/N) came out a few minutes later, her wet hair clinging to her and looking more refreshed. She still looked exhausted, but he knew how long it would take to really get any rest after what she had experienced.

She sat down next to him and picked up the food he had waiting for her.

"Thank you," she said.

"Of course," he responded. "You served me for quite some time. I think it's only fair I finally repay the favor."

She smiled, and he was brought back to every time he visited her coffee shop and was able to make her smile at something he said. It had always been such an accomplishment to him.

They ate in silence for some time. (Y/N) tried to savor the food, but she was so hungry that she couldn't help but scarf so much of it down so quickly. Eric couldn't help but watch her. He was still terrified that she'd suddenly disappear and he'd realize this was all just a dream.

"I can't believe you're here," he said before he could stop himself.

(Y/N) looked up at him. "I can't believe you're here. I thought..."

"Me too."

She moved her plate aside and turned her body so that she was facing him. "What happened that day?"

"I was in the tube - the subway - and suddenly there was all this shaking and rumbling. A pipe or something burst eventually and suddenly the whole place was flooded. I was sure I was a goner, until I managed to get to a stairwell that led up into New York. That's where I first met this guy - " Eric reached over to pat Frodo. " - and I followed him to his owner. She...she's the reason I'm here."

"Did she...?"

Eric swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "She was sick. She told me she made peace with her mortality and was okay with the sacrifice so that Frodo and I could survive."

(Y/N) reached out to place her hand on Eric's. He moved it so that their fingers intertwined. If this had been months ago, he would've been more focused on the fact that he was finally holding (Y/N)'s hand.

"She sounds like a good person," (Y/N) said. "I wish I could've met her."

"Me too," Eric said. "What about you? What happened to you that day?"

"Well, I was at the coffee shop, as you know, and suddenly these...things...I guess the eggs? I don't know, but I watched them fall from the sky. One of them landed a few streets over from the shop and the aftershocks blew the windows out and knocked me out. When I came to, I had been rescued by Stephen, he's the one who got off the boat first. He found anyone who was still alive and brought us to this building to hide us away. He told us to keep quiet, that it was the only way for us to survive. He kept going out and searching for other survivors, or for any resources to keep us alive."

"He didn't take you to the boats?"

She shook her head. "He tried, but there was an attack when we were all trying to get there. We kind of dispersed and all ended up back in the same building. A lot of us didn't make it, and by the time we tried to get out again the boats were gone. We had no idea where they were going, or how to get there since every boat had been taken from the dock it seemed. We settled in to try and fend for ourselves, which we did until we happened to hear a song looping over the radio."

"Beyond the Sea," Eric said. "It was Henri's idea. It was a code to get more survivors to come to safety."

"It worked. It just took some time for us to follow it."

"But you're here now." Eric squeezed her hand. "God, I'm so glad you're here. I thought...I spent every day thinking about you."

"I thought about you a lot, too." There were tears in her eyes now, too. "When I woke up, the first thing I thought was worrying where you were. I wanted so badly for you to have been someone that Stephen saved, and then so much time passed and I thought..."

Eric nodded. "Me too. I really thought you were gone."

It may not have been the most tactful way to do it, but emotions were running high and Eric's brain wasn't particularly working right. He took hold of her face and pulled her to him, pressing his lips against hers. It wasn't the best kiss in the world, he would admit. Because he caught (Y/N) off guard, it was more teeth than lips, and he could taste the saltiness of their mixed tears on her lips.

When she pulled away almost immediately, Eric felt embarrassment wash over him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have done that without asking first."

To his surprise, (Y/N) moved their plates out of their way before climbing onto Eric's lap. She leaned in slower, giving him more time to register that they were going to kiss again. When her lips touched his this time, it was soft and gentle, but still needy. Like they were both making up for so much lost time, which, he guessed, they were.

They were only interrupted this time by someone yelling, "Hey! There's kids out here! Get a room!"

(Y/N) pulled away, giggling a little as she rested her forehead against Eric's.

"So, it was okay that I kissed you?" he asked.

"I would think me kissing you back was enough of an answer," she said. "But yes, it was very much okay."

"I've wanted to do that since the day after we met."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "The day after?"

"Well yeah. The day we met I was in such a hurry that I didn't have time to really register the fact that a beautiful woman was making me coffee."

"See, that's so funny, because I also wanted to kiss you the day we met, and every day after when you came in for coffee."

"Wait, really?" Her smile was shyer now as she nodded her head. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Well, you were going to school to be a lawyer and you had everything going for you. I was just the girl in a coffee shop who didn't know what she was doing with her life. I thought...I thought it would be better for you if we didn't date, so that you could find someone with the same ambitions as you."

"I'm not saying this now because the world as ended, but fuck me being a lawyer. I didn't care if you were working at a coffee shop, or going to school like I was, or if you were just some homeless person on the side of the road. I loved you for who you were. I still love you for who you are."

(Y/N) was speechless. It was the words she had been longing to hear for so long, even after the world went to shit. She was convinced she was dreaming, or having some sort of alien induced hallucination. She made a mental note to pinch herself later, because if this was a dream she didn't want to wake up any time soon.

"I love you, too."

They went to kiss again, but Frodo meowed and nudged Eric's leg. He chuckled as he reached down to pet the cat. "I guess we shouldn't just be making out in broad daylight after already being yelled at once."

"I suppose not," (Y/N) said. "You know, I am awfully tired still. You should take me in to see your bed."

Eric grinned at her. "I like the way you think."

#eric a quiet place day one #eric aqpdo #eric imagine #eric aqpdo imagine #eric aqpdo x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader #a quiet place day one #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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starglitterz · 4 months ago

Text

♡ YOU KNOW YOU LOVE ME!

what was meant to be a simple heist goes awry when you're interrupted by a shockingly cute security guard & a couple of rival art thieves. did you mention that one of them is kind of your ex?

✧ feat ; ayato, childe, diluc, scaramouche x gn!reader (3.6k words)

✧ warnings ; highly suggestive, thief + cop au, robbery, weapons, reader is a tease, one (1) ginger insult, reader loves bullying men (as they should)

✧ a/n ; be gay do crime that's all i have to say! jk HJSDSJD this has been rotting in my drafts for almost THREE years. i reread it and the writing style was so unserious that i suddenly got motivated to continue it and then i finished it in a night. Yeah. anyways this is my #grandcomeback and also first post of 2025! i really hope you all enjoy this :> if it flops i will cry myself to sleep /j btw this was proofread by the loml @musings-of-miss-j who has a SUPERB harbingers series that u should totally check out 🙂‍↕️😋

please reblog with comments ! it helps a lot :)

"hey! you there!" a baritone voice behind you yells, shattering the midnight peace of the museum and jolting you out of your reverie. tightening your grip around the gleaming purple gnosis you came here for, you slip it into your pocket quickly before turning around with a smile that would assure anybody of your innocence. "who? little old me?" you bat your eyes, blinking slowly at the man. your eyes have long adjusted to the darkness, so even with his similarly coloured outfit you're able to pick out the faded gold badge at his chest reading 'diluc'. "what are you doing back here?" his tone doesn't change in the slightest as he flicks his flashlight over to you, the beam practically blinding against the dark surroundings.

"it appears that i've gotten lost," you laugh awkwardly, doing your best to feign being a naive tourist, "i was told that there were late tours offered at the teyvat museum." diluc still looks exceedingly suspicious, and as his gaze travels behind you your mind snaps into overdrive so he doesn't notice the missing artifact. suddenly bursting into tears, you run forward and bury your face in his shirt, "i! was! so! scared!" you punctuate each word with an even louder wail and he freezes beneath you, the close contact entirely unexpected. "there, there…" he pats your back with the enthusiasm and warmth of a polar ice cap, and with your face hidden in the fabric you permit yourself a triumphant smile - you've managed to divert his attention for now, at least.

"i am so terribly sorry about this," you begin to apologise profusely before looking up at him with teary eyes, "but would you mind walking me to the exit? i'm afraid i'll get lost again." at his hesitant expression you sniffle loudly, exaggerating it as much as possible until he caves, "fine. but stay close, there's been rumours floating around about artifact thieves lately." when he starts marching away, you hurry to catch up and ask curiously as if you aren't one of them, "artifact thieves?!" "yes. the type to steal priceless elements of history and sell them on the black market," he spits with disgust in his eyes. "oh, how terrible! i can't understand why anyone would do that instead of leaving them here for the public to enjoy," you gush, "surely there are other ways to make money."

yeah, you could become an art thief instead. not that you haven't tried that; you just found it too tedious to craft a believable enough fake and ensure the painting wasn't damaged while sneaking it out. diluc doesn't deign to reply besides a single nod of his head, and you try to start up another conversation, "i suppose you're not the type to befriend random visitors, huh?" the corner of his lips tug up into a barely perceptible smile, "only the ones who appear after closing hours." "can't you make an exception for me?" you wink, though you doubt he can even see it through the darkness blanketing the museum. "hmph," is the only answer you receive, and your chit-chat ends with a dramatic sigh from your end.

to be frank, you couldn't care less whether this ‘diluc’ likes you or not. it's just in your best interests for him to remember you as some flirty ditz who'd leave their head at home if it wasn't screwed on and not a calculating, manipulative burglar. this heist is one to remember for sure though, you don't think you've ever escaped with the goods in your pocket while talking to the security guard on duty. you've knocked them out beforehand and slept with them after, but never during the job, so tonight marks a first for you.

through your eyelashes, you glance at diluc, absorbing every detail about him in a split second; it's a trick you've learned from years of living on the street where figuring out who's going to hurt you and who won't is crucial for survival. he's pretty enough that you wouldn't mind spending the night with him, with fiery red locks tied neatly into a high ponytail and crimson eyes which sparkle like rubies. perhaps you could make this a double heist and steal his heart too!

your train of thought is interrupted as diluc comes to a halt without warning and you bump into his back (which you note is surprisingly toned). "what-" you start to complain, but he holds a hand up which silences you immediately. "i heard something," he whispers, practically inaudible, and you instantly start to babble, "what?! are they artifact thieves?! are we going to die?!" diluc groans before grabbing you and hiding behind a wall, pulling you flush against his torso as one of his gloved hands covers your mouth, "shut up."

now this is close contact; you can feel the quick rise and fall of his chest, his racing heartbeat, and his every muscle tensing in preparation for a fight. if you weren't so preoccupied with the fact that this is delaying your getaway, you'd probably make a stupid quip. actually scratch that, you're going to do it anyway, "at least take me on a date first," you mumble as you shrug away his hand, and he looks at you with the most disbelieving expression, "you can still make idiotic comments in a situation like this? you've either got nerves of steel or you're a total dumbass." "depends on your type," you smile, and he drags a palm down his face exasperatedly, "i- you know what, never mind."

"ow!" "shut the fuck up, idiot. it's bad enough that i had to get paired with you, but if you get us caught i'm going to kill you." "rude. you could just ask nicely." "i have no interest in talking to you." "yet here we are." "can you seriously keep quiet? i'm telling the tsaritsa never to put me in a team with you again." "aw, stop, you'll hurt my feelings." "do you even have any of those left?" "hey! i'll have you know i am a very emotional person." "that's like me saying i'm an upstanding member of society."

you freeze in diluc's arms, running through every curse word in every language you know in your mind. you'd recognise those two voices anywhere. out of all the nights the fatui could have been planning a robbery, it had to be tonight?! archons, your luck is awful. "okay, this has been fun and all, but i've got to go," you start wriggling out of his embrace, planning to smash a window and escape because you'd honestly risk getting caught by the cops instead of the fatui. "what?! are you insane?! there are obviously two robbers there," diluc whisper-shouts, brows furrowing in a peculiar mix of confusion and worry. "and i'd prefer not to die, so i'm going to leave before they come here!" you retort, continuing to slide out of his arms. however, he doesn't relax his grip and you roll your eyes before elbowing him in the stomach. the sudden attack surprises him and he lets go with a groan, which is more than enough time for you to make a break for it.

unfortunately, diluc delayed you long enough that you end up running right into the two fatui members' line of vision. "wait, who are you?!" one of them asks, and the other one continues, "turn around, or i'll shoot you right now." fuck, is all you can think as you slowly rotate to face them with a sheepish smile, perhaps they wouldn't recognise you. "hey, aren't you y/n?!" well, there goes that plan. "no…? who's that?" "nah, you definitely are," the ginger walks towards you slowly before tilting your chin up to face him with his index finger. the game's up, so you sigh, "hey, childe... it's been a while."

"i knew it was you! i'd know that pretty face of yours anywhere," he beams gleefully, and you smirk, "you still find me pretty? never knew you had a thing for criminals." "i do, it's my fatal flaw," he frowns before continuing, "except when they steal my money, in which case they become my enemies instead." double fuck. he still remembers that. "it wasn't that much! just about ten million mora or so, i know you've got tons left where that came from," you hurry to defend yourself. "that's not the point! the point is that you stole my money after i oh-so-kindly let you stay in my house!" childe says, and you're not taking this one lying down, "liar! you invited me over after you saw me at the bar!"

"can you both shut up? i'm losing braincells just listening to this shit," scaramouche cuts in, rolling his eyes so far back you swear they're going to get stuck that way. "really? because when you opened your mouth i think my iq just dropped by 10 points," you retort. scaramouche gapes at you for a second, clearly not used to someone talking back to him. "take a picture, it'll last longer," you wink, feeling the situation slide itself back into your grasp once more; you aren't planning on going down without a fight. "i don't have a kamera, and anyway who wants photos of dead people?" he fumbles for a reply and childe snickers, "cat got your tongue, scara?" "more like y/n's got your wallet," the balladeer jabs back, a smug grin curving his lips at the witty reply. childe's eyes widen at the insult, "hey! i'll have you know that i gave it to them willingly-"

taking advantage of the argument between the two of them, you unhook a rope from your waist and toss it up to the skylight. you're in the common center area of the museum, which has a square gap up to the roof and offers you a perfect shot for your hook to sail upwards and catch at the ledge. the instant you press a button the cord retracts, pulling you up with it. "and now y/n's getting away! so long, suckers!" you cheer as you zip upwards. "isn't that my line?!" you hear scaramouche yell as they scramble to find a way after you. seconds before you slam into the window like an unfortunate bug, you pull out a gun and shoot the glass, watching with glee as a spiderweb of cracks forms across it. thanks to the momentum of you gliding through the air, your boots easily smash through it when you kick harshly as you reach it, and you land with a loud thud on the roof. "ouch," you groan, "that's going to leave a bruise tomorrow." glancing at your surroundings, you inhale the fresh night air stained with the smog from all the polluting factories and listen to the buzz of the highways, busy even past midnight, "nothing like the city."

just then, you hear a thump behind you, and then a deep voice that sounds strangely familiar, "you'll be admiring it from a prison window after this." you spin around sharply, and the sight nearly makes you fall off the edge of the building with surprise, "diluc?!" at this, he freezes, and it's evident that he thought his disguise would be more than enough to conceal his identity. with a cough, he says, "no, i'm the darknight hero." "no, you're clearly diluc. i just met you like fifteen minutes ago and even i can recognise your hair in that stupid suit, it practically glows," you fold your arms over your chest, making idle conversation while your mind races to come up with an idea to save yourself. "my suit isn't stupid," diluc can't stop himself from defending his outfit, just because he had barely any sewing skills did not give you the right to insult the piece of clothing. "it's literally a mask and a black coat."

"back to the matter at hand," diluc- sorry, the darknight hero, clears his throat loudly, clearly eager to change the topic, "you're under arrest." "oh yeah? since when are you a cop?" "i'm not." "then you obviously don't have the power to arrest me, idiot." smarting from yet another insult, diluc tries his best to maintain his composure, "i meant that i'm going to take you in to the police station and then you'll be under arrest." "should have just said that," you shrug, and you can almost see diluc fighting to rein his temper in - this is too easy.

"okay, well, this actually hasn't been fun at all, so i'm leaving," you turn around again and stroll away, hoping that there'll be a ladder on the edge of the roof. you don't really see a diluc as a threat, because to be honest he seems more like a kid playing dress-up. what kind of self-respecting adult who cared as much for the law as he did would choose to be a vigilante? maybe if he got a better costume you could take him seriously. and that turned out to be a huge mistake on your part, because the next moment, a lasso whizzes through the air and loops around your ankles, quickly pulling into a deadknot that would take you ages to untie.

you want to throw a tantrum, crying and stomping your feet at diluc, but what good would that do when this issue sprung from your own cockiness? "listen, how much do you want? i'll give it to you, any amount. i know how much security guards make, and trust me, it'll be nothing compared to what i could give you," the words spill out of your mouth in a jumble, and you seem to take on the role of a confident salesman selling a product you know is worthless. it's embarrassing how much this sounds like a plea. "i don't want money. i want the streets and artifacts of teyvat to be safe from people like you," diluc ignores your further attempts at bribing him, although he does give you a strange look when you offer up a kiss, as if he's genuinely considering it. does this man actually get no bitches?

“ah, a kiss, hm? is that what you want?” you lean forward almost desperately, grinning at him like a maniac, “c’mon, mr darknight hero! i promise i’m a really good kisser~” you lick your lips as if to prove your point, and your smirk deepens when his ruby gaze follows the motion. “just give me a second to touch up my lipstick, ‘kay?” while he’s still stunned from your offer, you fumble in your pocket and pull out a taser. diluc only snaps back into action when he sees the weapon clutched in your hands, and though he dodges, you manage to stumble forward without your bound ankles and ram the buzzing probes into his chest.

a strange noise, a mixture of a whimper and a groan escapes his throat as he falls to his knees in front of you, body twitching like a dying bug. rummaging in his pockets, you find a knife and giggle as you slice through the ties on your legs, “see? this is why it’s always great to have men on their knees for you. i forgot my knife today, so i hope you’ll be okay with me borrowing this.” as he glares at you through blurry vision, a mockingly pitiful smile curves your lips and you pat his head like you’re petting an overzealous guard dog, “now be a good boy and stay here, okay, diluc? ah, sorry, i mean mr darknight hero!” dipping your head, you press a fleeting kiss to his cheek, relishing in his flustered gasp, “i’ll give you a proper kiss next time~” you burst into laughter and skip off, leaving him tied up and blushing with the same restraints he had used on you.

“why is this stupid place so big?!” you mutter to yourself as you whiz across the rooftop. the museum is under renovation, so a lot of the walls of the rear wing are covered in scaffolding and tarp that only serve to slow you down as you try to escape. you’re seriously regretting being a cheapskate earlier and not parking at the official parking lot, instead you had hid your getaway car almost a kilometre away from the location just to avoid a parking fee. don’t judge! things like this are how rich people stay rich. but just as you’re skidding across the glass-roofed observatory, you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“not so fast, thief.”

you groan as exaggeratedly as you can, making a big show of how troublesome it is for you to turn around, “hello again, childe. hat guy.” “my name is scaramouche!” he seethes, scowling at you with a glare furious enough to thaw antarctica. “listen, y/n,” childe steps forward, raising both hands in magnanimous surrender, “let’s make a deal.” “not interested.” you stick your tongue out, slowly backing away. childe continues as if he didn’t hear you, but the twitch in his brow is enough to give away his act, “you give us the gnosis, and i’ll forget all about the money you owe me.” “i don’t owe you, genius,” you scoff, “i stole it. i’m obviously not going to repay it.” “you really are an idiot,” scaramouche massages his temples, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else on earth than here at this moment.

“well!” childe puffs himself up, pretending that his ego isn’t hurt, “i thought you and i had chemistry, y’know? we could hang out again if you just give me the gnosis.” his voice drops an octave lower to emphasise his last few words, and you feel a familiar shiver up your spine. “childe, we slept together once, and sleeping with a ginger was not one of my proudest moments,” you retort, though you feel a twinge of guilt as childe fusses with his hair, “hey! uncalled for!” to be honest, he’s not wrong. the two of you did have chemistry, and the night you spent together was… well, let’s just say you could barely walk the next day. but dating isn’t your style, especially not when it’s someone who belongs to a rival group in the world of art theft. you prefer one night stands – it’s easier to keep things simple with no strings attached.

“just give us the gnosis, and we won’t kill you. is that a better deal?” scaramouche interrupts, evidently tired of childe beating around the bush. “scara! i was this close to getting them to crack!” childe pouts, and scaramouche rolls his eyes heavenward – if there was ever a time for him to believe in the gods, it would be now as he prays for mercy from his partner’s stupidity. “you’re cracked in the head if you think so,” scaramouche drags a palm down his face and sighs, “you only think with your dick.” “what?!” childe’s aghast at this accusation, “that’s not true!” “i think it is.” you helpfully supply, and that draws both men’s attention back to you.

“whatever! just hand us the gnosis, and things won’t get messy.” childe withdraws his blades, and you realise he’s finally getting serious. scaramouche steps closer as well, and you can’t move backwards anymore, you’re already teetering on the ledge. a fall from this height definitely wouldn’t leave you in the best condition. it’s too early for you to die, you haven’t even seen your favourite artist live yet! “fine. you want it?” you pull the gnosis out from your pocket and a wicked smirk graces your features, “then come and get it~!” you toss the item up in the air, letting the way it sparkles in the moonlight speak for itself as you lean backwards and salute, “see you on the other side, losers!”

with that, you fall off the roof while scaramouche and childe fumble to catch the gnosis.

“hey! that dumbass!” childe rushes to the edge to check on you, only to realise that… you aren’t there?! contrary to what he expected, your bloody corpse isn’t lying there. you’re climbing down the scaffolding like a monkey, weaving in and out of the metal bars until you reach the ground. looking back up at him, childe thinks he can make out a final playful wink before you hop into a black car that’s just pulled up at the back. behind him, scaramouche yells, “childe!” “what is it now, balladeer- what?!” the gnosis is shattered on the stone roof, shards of purple and silver gleaming in a manner that almost seems taunting. “it was a fucking fake!” scaramouche yells, kicking the broken pieces furiously, and childe can’t stop the lovestruck expression that plays across his face, “y/n really is a master thief…” “snap out of it, idiot! what are we going to tell the boss?!”

meanwhile, you’re in the passenger seat of an inconspicuous black car, chuckling to yourself as you toy with the real gnosis. “you’re lucky i told you to bring more than one imitation,” a suave voice sounds from the driver’s seat, “and that i was there to save you.” “thank you, oh great master ayato,” you giggle, pretending to bow, “you’re a lifesaver. literally.” he smirks, gloved fingers tapping idly against the steering wheel, “you could have been in and out. you just like playing too much.” “hey!” you whine dramatically, “it’s not my fault the security guard was so cute!” “hmm…” he reaches out and tilts your chin to face his piercing blue eyes, “don’t say stuff like that or i’ll get jealous, you know?” “s-shut up.” you pout, folding your arms across your chest and turning away to look out the window, “just drive, you blue-haired weirdo.” “that’s no way to talk to your boss now, is it?” he laughs goodnaturedly as the two of you speed away, “i just wish i could be there to see the look on captain wriothesley’s face when he realises it was us again.”

#✏️ — quill writes !#diluc x reader #childe x reader #scaramouche x reader #ayato x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #tartaglia x reader #wanderer x reader #kamisato ayato x reader

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angels-fantasy · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I really liked the Katsukis memories one, so I can suggest you make like Bakugo a few years ago got out of a really toxic relationship and he couldn’t really trust anyone because his last girlfriend or boyfriend used him for his money and fame being the no.2 hero, until he met reader. So now he’s taking them to his old childhood hood to met his parents. Mitsuki also didn’t really trust anyone to be with his baby boy, but when she saw you walk through the door, I feel like she would make a connection and had really good vibes with reader. Thank for reading!🧡💚🖤

Perfect (Request)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Details/Warnings: established relationship, mention of a toxic ex, meeting the parents

Word Count: 1.1k

thank you for your suggestion and your kind comment! this was pretty fun to write so i hope i did it justice. i liked this :)

When someone you love treats you horribly, it's something you never forget. It scars you, and no matter how hard you try to get over it, that pain and those bad memories are always going to be there.

It takes a lot of time to heal from these kinds of things, but it's possible. For Katsuki, it took three years. His last relationship was great at first. He was happy and in love, and he thought his partner was too until they revealed their true colors.

After a year of dating they made it clear that they were only with him because of his status as a pro hero and his money. This was heart breaking of course. It hurts to find out the person you loved never loved you. Katsuki was angry and hurt, so he ended things immediately and swore to himself that he'd never date anyone again. He avoided any type of romantic relationship for the next three years while he focused on himself, until he met you.

Meeting you was unexpected, like most relationships are. He was very closed off at first and hesitant to get to know you, but you were able to crack open his shell and find him waiting on the inside.

Before you started dating, you didn't know about his past relationship but you knew something must've happened for him to be so guarded. So you made sure to let him take the lead in everything. You didn't want him to feel pressured, so you would let him make all the first moves.

When he eventually asked you to be official you were extremely happy that he trusted you enough to try dating again, since a month prior he told you about his last relationship.

Now, six months later, he wanted you to meet his parents. But they were hesitant too.

"I don't know Katsuki. Are you sure they're not like the last one?" Mitsuki asked.

Katsuki was currently at his parent's house, asking them if he could bring you over this weekend because he wanted them to meet you.

He groaned, "Yes, I'm sure. I knew them for a year before we started dating, and they're really understanding about everything that happened before."

His dad, Masaru, spoke up, "We're just worried about you son. We don't want you to get hurt like last time."

Katsuki looked down, "I know, but just trust me, okay? They're a really great person and I think you'll like them."

His parents looked at each other, then Mitsuki said "Fine. Bring them over this weekend at 5:00 pm. I'll make dinner."

Katsuki smiled.

Fast forward to the weekend, it was now the day you were meeting his parents and to say you were nervous is an understatement. Your boyfriend has mentioned before that his mom was a lot like him, so you were afraid she'd criticize you right away. He did say his dad was much calmer, but you were still afraid.

"I'm scared Katsuki. What if they don't like me?" You asked as you two parked outside of his childhood home.

He put a hand on your head, "Relax babe, I already talked to them. I know they're gonna love ya, alright? And if they don't then they can fuck off-"

"Katsuki!"

"It's true. I know they're my parents but I'm with you, and if they can't respect that then I won't talk to them."

You took a deep breath and nodded, "Okay. Can you hold my hand while we walk in?"

He nodded and did exactly as you asked as you both walked up to the large doors of the house. He knocked loudly twice before opening the door, announcing his arrival.

"Hag, I'm home!" He yelled, "Hey old man." He said to a man with glasses and brown spiky hair that was sitting at the dinner table.

The man was about to speak up but was cut off by a woman yelling, "I told you to stop calling me hag, brat!" Then, a woman that looked just like Katsuki walked out of the kitchen.

"Oh-Hello there! I'm Mistuki." She said and shook your hand.

You smiled and gave her your name, "It's so nice to meet you. You have really beautiful skin."

She laughed loudly, "That's thanks to my quirk, glycerin. Keeps my skin moisturized. Now both of you come and sit down! I made dinner for everyone."

Katsuki continued holding your hand and walked you to the dining table next to the man who you were assuming was his father.

He smiled and held out a hand, "I'm Masaru, Katsuki's father. It's a pleasure to meet you. I hope you'll excuse my wife, she can be a bit, well-I'm sure you know." He said with a small laugh. You noticed he was much more soft spoken compared to his wife and son.

You continued to talk to him and Katsuki at the table until Mitsuki came and placed the dish on the table. You were able to tell right away that she had made katsu curry.

You each served yourselves, though Katsuki kept insisting he serve you.

"Stop it. I want to do it." You said pushing him lightly.

He kissed his teeth, "Just let me do it will ya?"

"No." You then bumped him with your hip and served yourself, quickly serving him as well, making him sigh.

As you two communicated in your own way, his parents smiled at your interaction. Mitsuki was a little hesitant to, but Masaru rubbed her shoulder almost to let her know he was okay.

During dinner you all talked about everyday things, mostly surrounding you and Katsuki's relationship.

"So, how did you guys meet?" Mitsuki asked.

"We actually met at the public library." You said, "It was in the romance section, coincidentally."

"Yeah and you were picking a shitty book." Katsuki spoke up.

"Hey it wasn't my fault! I didn't even know anything about it."

As dinner went on, his parents, especially his mother, realized that you really were different than his last partner. They could see the way you cared for him just by how you spoke to him and interacted with him. Even the little touches you gave him on his shoulder or arm here and there.

At the end of the night when you said your goodbyes, his parents made sure to see you both out.

Mitsuki hugged you tightly and whispered "Thanks for taking care of my boy." Pulling away, she said "Come back anytime, all right? Don't let this brat convince you I'm crazy."

Katsuki rolled his eyes while you giggled.

Once you both drove away, Masaru asked his wife "So? What do we think?"

She nodded, "I think they're perfect."

tag list for bakugou fics: @doumadono

#@angels-fantasy #fanfiction #fanfic #anime #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #my hero academia

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lsunstreakerl · 5 days ago

Text

2.1k tiny gax verse!!! more coming, but I figured I'd split it up a bit, after the whole... everything. of the race. again, snapshots, not entirely in chronological order.

max POV, george POV

Max realizes the trailer is parked in the same hotel lot the fucking Leclerc's are in too late. He lets out a string of swear words that Jos would be proud of, ducking into a hallway before they see him.

Fucking Charles, with his parents and his brothers and his... everything. He thinks he'll drive for Ferrari.

Max doesn't like to think about his own chances. His helmet is gripped tight in his hands, knuckles white. There's sweat dripping uncomfortably down his spine, the result of wrestling his kart back into the trailer. He's mostly got a system figured out, but still.

It's heavy.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. George again, probably trying to find a rule in the fine print consent form for the hotel that will allow Max to stay. He won't find one— Max had kind of expected it. He's not parked up at a place that would turn a blind eye, evidenced by the fact that Charles is here.

It's fine. They'll do better when George is here, and there's blankets in the trailer. The weather is mild enough that Max thinks he can get away with leaving it off, which is great— it'll save gas for the return trip. If it goes well, he'll have enough cash left to get groceries on the way back. Real groceries.

Max had won, which is really the only way to make any of this worth it. People have started talking to him, asking him questions about the karts and the race, and they seem genuinely impressed by his knowledge. It's stupid, because of course Max knows what he's talking about. This is all he has, it's what he's hinged everything on.

He's hoping today's performance was good enough to land him a new sponsor, so he can buy the parts he needs for George's kart. George has a fucked axle, so they've been swapping one of the good ones back and forth between their karts, and Max has been trying to rotate them out to avoid wear, but it'd be nice to just be able to buy the part they need.

He has a cracked fingernail that agrees with the thought as well.

He can see the Leclerc's crowd into the elevator, watching Charles' mother ruffle his hair, and his fingers grip tighter.

Asshole.

------

George hasn't told Max about the part time job. Mostly because he only works when Max is out karting, and it's under the table in cash. He's been stocking it in a jar in the closet, and he uses it to quietly restock the staples in their pantry when they're getting low. Max doesn't cook often enough to notice, and he's got too many other things on his mind to wonder why they never seem to run out of rice.

Max also works sometimes, quick gigs that George pretends not to know about, even though he wakes up when Max washes his hair in the sink in the early morning. He's pretty sure it's a physical labor job, because Max would never do anything that doesn't somehow contribute to driving— if he can make money and train at the same time, he will.

He glances back down at his phone. The sun is starting to set, so the local bookstore he works at had politely but firmly told him to head home, and Max should be driving back soon, provided he doesn't get arrested.

Alex: hey

Alex: huge favor

Alex: like MASSIVE

George: not a whole lot I can help you with

Alex: I think I might need to come to the UK

Alex: is there any way I can crash with you and max? I can cover my own costs, and help with rent.

George: mate we've only got one bedroom

George: we shoved the futons together

George: not in a gay way!

George: in a space conserving way

Alex: LOL

Alex: I believe you georgie

Alex: I have a big family, I'm used to stray limbs

Alex: I might actually end up with MORE personal space this way

George: you promise you won't cost more?

George: I don't want to be mean

George: but max and I are stretched really thin

Alex: I promise!

George: okay

George: I'll talk to him about it

The trailer is back in the driveway when he rounds the corner of the sidewalk, and he breathes a sigh of relief. Max hasn't been arrested, and he hasn't been murdered overnight while he slept in the trailer. Max says thinking like that is paranoid and that George needs to stop watching the news.

He unlocks the front door quietly, careful to avoid the creak in the floor right at the entryway. He can hear Max snoring already, and there's empty plastic bags on the counter.

Max must have won. There's milk, and a new container of eggs, and his eyebrows shoot up when he realizes they have trout in the fridge. He'll make that tonight, because on the rare occasion they get fish it's usually right before it expires, and Max probably didn't eat after the race unless the food was free.

There's lentils in the pantry as well. George isn't a huge pan of protein-loading Max makes them both do, but he understands it from a health perspective. He just wishes they could afford to make it taste better. One day, when they both drive in Formula 1, he's going to take them to a bakery, and they'll get every dessert on the counter.

Sticking his head into the bedroom reveals Max half sprawled on the futons, passed out. His fingers wring nervously when he gets a glance at his collarbones, just on the side of too sharp under his skin.

He's not stupid. He knows Max is making sure that he gets taken care of first, that he never finishes his plate until George is done, just in case he's still hungry. He notices.

He'll make sure Max gets more of the fish tonight.

------

"Shit!"

George scrabbles for his phone, fingers flying.

George: MAX

George: AXLE SPINDLE SNAPPED

Max: FUCK

George: we don't have any spares

Max: I know

Max: give me five minutes

George: I don't have five minutes

Max: give me three.

Max: and get it ready for the switch

George checks everything else on his kart as he disassembles the front left end, heart pounding in his chest. They'll be cutting it to the wire, and he's really not sure—

Max darts around to the corner, dropping to his knees next to George's kart. His hands fly across the pieces on the floor as he switches the axle spindle, fingers darkening with grease, and George's fingers are twitching. He's cutting it close, they're cutting it so close.

Max reassembles the kart like it's second nature, because it is. He's spent hours going over it with George, comparing what they were both able to learn before they were on their own, and what he picks up in the mechanics shop.

Like most things, he's just a few seconds faster, just quick enough to pull off something he shouldn't have been able to, standing and double checking George's suit and helmet, gloves gripped tight in his hands.

"Go, go, come on—"

------

George wins it. It's not always euphoric, more of a deep sense of relief, that he's worth it, that they're making it worth it.

Max still has grease on his fingers when he gets George in a headlock and scrubs at his hair, both giggling as the relief crashes over them. They're in a shitty motel, but they have the bed for the night, and he's won with a mismatched axle spindle and his headband pressing uncomfortably into his forehead.

It's worth it, they're worth it, they're doing it.

------

"Boys."

There's a soft accented voice behind them both as they're making their way to the parking lot, and Max stops first, George hesitating behind him.

Pascale Leclerc is watching them, eyes gentle.

"You make a mother's heart weep, yes? Please, let me do something with your hair."

Max winces. His own hair is getting long enough that he occasionally steals George's headbands when he's reading just to keep it out of his eyes, and George is always having to adjust his hair behind his ears. It curls long at the back of both of their necks, damp with sweat.

George steps forward, because he's talked to the Leclerc's more than Max has.

"Are you sure?"

Max was raised not to accept handouts. He's gotten used to having to do so ever since he started living on his own, and especially with George, but it still makes something curl unpleasantly in his stomach. They have scissors at home.

"Please."

She rests a hand on both of their shoulders, and Max looks at George again, wild hair pressed against his hairline and wet behind his ears.

He lets her lead them to a different trailer. The Leclerc's don't have the best in the lot, but it's nice, with enough room for karts and equipment as well as a few people. Charles is sitting on the pavement next to it, legs stretched wide in front of him as he drinks a water. Max pointedly doesn't make eye contact with him, even through he sees George wave.

"Charlie!"

Charles wiggles his fingers. He hasn't won today, but he'd done well, so Max isn't sure why he's sulking, not when he has a family that's proud of him even when he sucks.

Pascale herds them into the trailer, reaching for Max first, but he shakes his head, tilting it slightly in George's direction. She frowns, curling her fingers again, keeping his voice low enough that only the two of them hear.

"I will take care of you both."

Max chews at the inside of his cheek.

"We can't pay you."

"I know."

George is still talking to Charles outside. Max catches the eye of Charles' father, quickly looking away.

"Okay."

------

Charles is trying to figure something out. George knows this because he keeps asking leading questions, like he thinks George would tell him anything— he's British, he knows how to subtly doge a question.

What does have George uneasy is that his father is watching them both, reaching into one of the coolers.

"Charles."

He says Charles' name the French way, soft and sliding, before passing him a baggie with a sandwich in it. A heartbeat later, there's another one being held out to George.

The Leclerc's like him more than Max, he knows this.

"Thank you."

He says it as gratefully as he can manage, carefully tucking it into his helmet.

"I'll eat it on the road."

Charles huffs a laugh next to him.

"You do not look like you eat much of anything."

George kicks out at his foot, glaring.

"I drive fast, and that's what matters."

------

George had spotted Max get a sandwich as well. It has him relived, because as soon as they'd gotten away from the Leclerc's trailer, hair shorter and several waters richer, Max had immediately torn into it.

Still, he waits until they've been on the road for an hour before he reaches into his helmet.

"I had two while I was waiting with Charles, and they told me to hold onto your extra for you."

Max's eyes light up. They're brighter without his hair shadowing over his lashes.

"They did?"

George passes it over. It's slightly squished and room temperature, but Max tears through it just as quickly as he had the last one.

"Thank you, Georgie."

George gets snacks at the library when he comes in to work. He doesn't mind making sure Max is still getting what he needs, not when he spots the knobs of his wrists or the exhaustion in his eyes. They're both making sacrifices.

It'll be worth it one day.

------

Max wipes the back of his hand across his forehead, making a face at the feeling of grease smearing across his skin as he rolls out from under the truck.

"It is fucked. Trash. Tell them they are better off selling for scrap and buying a new car."

"This is why you're not at the front, Max."

Max is not at the front because he looks young— is young. The garage pays him under the table, and he gets the chance to learn.

Sure, he scrapes his knuckles on rusted metal, and he's fairly confident the underside of his nails are never going to get clean, but the experience is invaluable.

He's had to tweak at his own kart's engine more than once, and the things he's learned here helps make him reasonable confident that it's not going to go boom.

Kind of confident.

A little bit.

#tiny gax verse #lestappen still hate each other #charles hates max for being fast in subpar equipment #max hates charles for having a family #they're definitely on the same page #ficlet

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bouncybongfairy · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii, could you please do a live action jet x reader smut? Where the reader is a water bender and he meets her when he meets sokka and Katara, she knows hes kind of a bad person but she can't help being into him. You don't have to do exactly that, just a idea!

Rude Boy

Jett x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: Needing to take a break from travel, your group stops to rest in the Earth Kingdom village of Gaipan. After meeting Jett and the Freedom Fighters, you can't help but be charmed by his bad boy persona. He invites you out to the city for a wild night.

Word Count: 1.0k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Rough Smut.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You guys had been flying for hours and the sun was starting to go down. Anng decided that they would find somewhere to set up camp for the night. Appa was getting tired so they needed somewhere soon and Gaipan was the nearest village. Nothing seemed off at first, Katara and Sokka were arguing about the most efficient way to set up their tent. Anng made sure Appa was comfortable when Jett and the Freedom Fighters made their appearance. After they explained their disposition, they joined you around the fire. Jett was sitting right next to you, telling these lavish stories of glory and riches. Katara wasn’t impressed by his show boating and was disappointed you weren’t seeing it. After he was out of ear shot, all she could talk about was how he was a bad guy and not to be trusted.

It wasn’t that you didn’t see the signs that he was up to no good. You just didn’t give a fuck. His dominant personality was quite charming. How he didn’t tolerate anything he was unhappy with. You loved everyone in the group and have grown to be like family. However, being happy-go lucky and optimistic all the time was emotionally taxing. As Katara used her water bending to put out the fire, Jett pulled you aside.

“Hey I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come into town with me later tonight?” He asked.

“Oh uh- yeah I think I would be able to sneak away,” you said, looking over to see if anyone was watching.

“Great, I'll meet you here, in an hour or two,” he says while catching up with his group.

You were practically snaking with excitement. For so long, you’d been surrounded with morality and sunshine. You were excited to break away from that, do something that made you feel alive. Laying on your back in the tent, waiting until you felt everyone was actually asleep. Your heart was racing, trying to avoid anything on the ground that could make noise. Jett was waiting for you where he said, resting his hands on the handles of his hook swords. He smiled once he saw you, joking about how he was starting to think you bailed.

“No, not at all! I’m really looking forward to seeing the night life in the city,” you explained.

“Well, I’m excited to show you.” he said, holding his hand out for you to take.

It wasn’t long before the two of you reached the night market he was intent on visiting. It was really nice, several food stands that were making your mouth water. He pulled out a large bag of coins, and made your eyes widen a little. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw that much money in one place. Never giving you a straight answer when you asked how he acquired the money. The mysteriousness was only adding to his bravado. After walking the full length of the market, he took you to a really scenic spot. At the top of a hill, overlooking all the lights in the city. Laying on a bed of soft grass while enjoying the view.

“So how did you really get all that money?” you asked, laying your head against his shoulder; admiring his side profile.

“The less you know the better,” he chuckled.

“It’s okay if it’s bad. I know the group I'm with isn’t the most open minded but the Fire Nation made the world like this. Impossible to survive so why can’t we break a few rules to withstand their wrath you know?” you explained.

“Finally, someone that gets it,” he said, turning to face you.

Your lips were only a couple inches from his. Smelling the alcohol on his breath from a drink he’d gotten earlier that night. Everything about him was just so unacceptable, his attitude, outlook on life and his moral compass was so wrong. You were tired of trying to figure out why that was so intriguing. Shamelessly giving in to your temptations. Wanting to test the waters slowly, you brush your bottom lip against his. In return he melts his mouth into yours. Running his tongue over your lip, grabbing your face with his hands. Breathing hard out your nose, trying to get air in when you could. He rolled on top of you, pressing his pelvis into yours. Starting to kiss and nip at your neck as the two of you rock your hips together. He sits up abruptly, your lips separating with a wet pop sound. Now on his knees, he pulls out his hook swords and tosses them to the side.

For the few seconds he was hovering over you with the blades, your skin prickles with goosebumps. He looked so powerful and menacing, it made you feel hazy. Dropping back down, his hands coming down hard on either side of your head. You flinched a little, which made him chuckle before pulling your top off. Of course, you eagerly help him remove it. Your back arched off the ground as he took one of your nipples into his mouth. Swirling and flicking his tongue while pinching and pulling at the other. Your head falling back against the grass, both mind and body fully engulfed with pleasure. Your clit was aching and feeling yourself getting wetter wasn’t helping.

“Can I ride you?” you asked.

“No, I wanna fuck you until you’re braindead,” he says, flipping you onto your stomach.

Pushing your ass up and grinding against his leaking member. Spreading his pre-cum all over your skin before focusing his tip on your entrance. Teasing for a few moments before burying himself inside your heat. He started rocking his hips slowly, pulling out fully before sliding back in. Biting and sucking hickies on your shoulder. Trying his best not to animalistically pound you into the ground. Moaning every time he fully pressed his cock inside you; his head kissing your cervix every time he snapped his hips. Your head was turned to the side, perfect angle for him to shove two fingers into your mouth. Massaging your tongue and prodding down your throat. Letting out a moaning as you gagged and drooled. Wet slapping sounds came from how hard he was thrusting. Taking his hand out of your mouth and brushing the hair out of your face so he could see your expressions. Spreading your drool all over your face in the process, while making patronizing cooing noises at you. Your body went limp, barely audible uh-uh-uh’s coming out of your mouth. Seeing you turned into a fucked out pile of need was steering him closer to climax. Having no remorse and using your body for pleasure was his only goal. Pounding away at you with such force, your skin was becoming sore and reddened. Pressing his full body weight into you, pulling your hair to expose your neck and biting down as he came. Snapping his hips into you every time he shoots thick ropes of cum into your belly. Grunting and growling into your neck as he rode out his high. He got the two of you semi dressed before passing out where you two laid in the grass. Too fucked out to care about the repercussions and responsibilities that tomorrow holds.

#jett atla live action #jett x reader #jett x y/n #jet atla live action #jet atla smut #jet x y/n #jet atla #jet x reader #avatar the last airbender #netflix avatar #netflix atla #jet avatar #jet avatar smut

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nick-writes-stuff · 4 months ago

Text

Luck Runs Out

Seong Gi-hun x gn!reader

summary: You've been by Seong Gi-hun's side through all of it, and despite his best efforts, you stuck with him even after his usual demeanor hardened from the traumatic experiences in the games. As he prepares to infiltrate and end the games once and for all, both of your feelings for each other emerge. (~7.6k words)

!warnings: canon-typical violence, implied suicidal throughts/actions, verbal arguments, use of y/n, mega hurt/mega comfort

a/n: i'm actually really happy with this one, guys. no clue what the next fic will be yet. if you have an idea, send me a request, and i'll see what i can do! ily all and hope you enjoy <33

You have always joked with your friend Seong Gi-hun by saying that he is the luckiest man in the world. This was entirely sarcastic most of the time. Misfortune seemed to be woven into his DNA. Nothing ever went his way, and the few times that things worked out for him seemed to be a sign for more hardship to come.

Things changed in his life quite often. Money came and went. Jobs were often short-lived, and the one that did last a long time ended in a deadly strike. He got married and had Ga-yeong, and it seemed like things were going well, and then the divorce happened and he lost custody. He had to move back in with his mom because he couldn't afford both his rent and his gambling habits.

The one constant had been you. You had been close friends with him and Sang-woo growing up, but you hadn't moved away to university like the latter. You stayed local and worked a fairly steady job. You lived comfortably but definitely not as wealthy as the pride of Ssangmun-dong was. (Well, at least not as wealthy as you thought he was.)

Gi-hun definitely took you for granted sometimes. He asked you for money more often than he'd like to admit. You tried to help him when you could, but sometimes you had to give him the hard truth. It annoyed you sometimes that you knew the money you gave him was likely going right to the horse races, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt because you wanted to believe your friend could turn things around.

And it wasn't like he was just using you for your money. He was genuinely a great friend who was trying to make up for his faults. He'd always try to do something for you to metaphorically repay his debt to you. Sometimes, it would be as simple as bringing you some snack or trinket when he stopped by to visit, likely something he stumbled upon rather than an actually planned out gift. Other times, he would insist on doing something for you, like running errands or trying to fix the valve you had been complaining about. Sure, it didn't repay the actual money, but it was the principle of his actions that you found endearing.

You would be lying to yourself to say that your feelings for him were purely platonic. You'd been smitten with him since you were kids. You assumed he just thought of you as a friend, which is a fair assumption seeing as he married someone who wasn't you. You admired his compassion. He would give someone the shirt off his back if he was able. He was selfless and kind and funny. He had some rough edges, but you couldn't fault him for that.

He also recognized you as a constant in his life. When so many other things were changing rapidly, he could rely on you. Even when everything else seemed to be against him, when everyone else seemed to have moved on without him, you were there for him when he needed you.

His feelings for you were a bit more complicated. He always felt very close to you, but that's normal for friends, right? When they were younger, Sang-woo was quick to notice Gi-hun's adoration of you, but he always insisted you were just friends. There were a few times that he did consider testing the waters and ask you, but he always chickened out before he could. Plus, you deserve someone better than him. Someone without his faults. So he started seeing Eun-ji. She was nice, thoughtful, and pretty. But she wasn't you. He pushed any feelings for you into the deep recesses of his mind, and they only presented themselves in the dark of night when he couldn't sleep.

Despite being two idiots in love who didn't realize it, you stayed close through the years. But not close enough to recognize the elephant in the room.

Your feelings for him finally resurfaced shortly after Gi-hun had left for the games, although you hadn't known that was what he was doing. You were worried that he got himself into trouble with his loan sharks, and something happened. You were even more worried that he ran off, never to be seen again.

You learned of his disappearance from his mother calling you. She asked if you had seen him recently and you realized that you hadn't. She requested that you run an errand for her as she wasn't feeling the greatest. You had the free time, so you did. You arrived at their apartment to find her unresponsive. She was alive, thank goodness, but she was in rough shape. You got her to the hospital, using whatever money you had to spare to pay for the ambulance ride.

While she was getting treated, you were pacing in the waiting room, trying to get into contact with Gi-hun. Calls and texts left unanswered. You tried to call as many of Gi-hun's friends as you knew and had contact information for. Jung-bae hadn't heard from him in days. You even tried calling Sang-woo in hopes he would have answers, but that too was unanswered.

At one point, a nurse stepped out into the waiting room. “Are you Ms. Mal-soon's next of kin?” She asked gently.

The question caught you off guard for 2 reasons. Firstly, you were so invested in his mother's wellbeing that you were assumed to be her next of kin while her own son was off doing God knows what. But more importantly, hospitals don't usually inquire about that without something being seriously wrong.

You shook your head. “No, I'm just a friend of her son's.” You said.

“Do you have a way to reach him?” She asked.

You sighed. “Yeah, I've been trying to call him. Do you have something you want me to tell him?” You asked.

She nodded. “Tell him to get here as soon as he can. She's trying to refuse treatment, and I hope he can talk some sense into her.” She said, sounding somewhat exasperated. You gave her a knowing look. Mal-soon was a stubborn woman.

“I'll let him know. Thank you.” You said, giving her a slight bow. She turned and left, so you continued your efforts to call Gi-hun.

It was another 20 minutes before he answered the phone.

“Gi-hun, thank God. What were you doing that you couldn't answer?” You asked.

He sighed. “It's a long story.” He dismissed that line of conversation. There was no way he could explain that to you right now. “What's going on?” He asked.

“Your mom is in the hospital right now. I can explain more later, but you need to get here.” You said.

You heard him curse on the other end of the line. “I'll be there in ten.” He said. before hanging up the phone.

It was more like 20 before he made it to the hospital. You didn't leave until you knew he was there. While he was talking with the doctor, his mom left the building. You got a call from him later that evening.

You didn't let him get started on any small talk. “Where the hell were you?” You asked. You were stern but also concerned.

He sighed. “That's not important right no-”

“Not important? Really?” You interrupted. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down. “You scared the shit out of me, you know that, right?” You weren't angry, just worried.

He knew you were just concerned for him. So his answer was only going to make you more worried. “Listen. Remember when I told you about that business card?” He asked.

“Oh my God, don't tell me you actually went there.” You said.

“I did.” He admitted. He didn't want to explain further. He didn't need to burden you with that information. How do you even explain that to someone?

You could tell from his tone that it hadn't gone well there. He sounded so defeated.

“Y/N, I hate to do this but-”

You scoffed. “Are you serious?”

“I know, I know. But she needs treatment, and we can't afford it right now.” He said. He didn't even know why he was asking you. You didn't deserve to be treated this way.

“Gi-hun.” You started. You tried to keep your voice from breaking. You didn't want to say no. You knew he always felt like a scumbag anytime you had this conversation. You hated to say it, but you stood your ground. “I wish I could help, I really do. But I can't. I already used what I had to spare to pay for the ambulance.” You said.

This was new information to him. “You did?” He sounded in disbelief. How could you care so much for them when he treated you like this?

“Of course I did.” You said softly.

He laughed. “I don't deserve a friend like you, y/n.”

You flinched upon hearing his words. It felt like they pierced through you. You'd always be just a (friend), wouldn't you?

The second he said the words he wished he could take them back. It felt wrong to say for some reason.

The line went quiet for a moment. “I'll see what I can do.” You said softly.

“Thank you.” He said.

You hung up the phone, taking a few deep breaths before going about your evening. Later on, you got a text from him:

Hey. I've decided that I'm gonna go back to play those games. Can you check on my mom while I'm gone? I'll make it up to you, I swear.

You sighed, staring at the words as you tried to assess your feelings about this situation. It was complicated, to say the least. You desperately tried not to feel used. You were just covering for him while he ran off to do something that would probably be more trouble than it's worth. But he was your friend. That's what friends do, right?

You typed back: Yeah, I can stop by when I get a chance. How long will you be gone?

His response was fast. Not sure. It might be a few days.

You had plenty of questions about this. How was he going somewhere to play ddajki for a few days? You didn't get a chance to ask before he started typing again.

He was thinking of how to address the elephant in the room that you had no way of knowing it existed. How do you tell your best friend that you might not come back? How does he tell you he might die in pursuit of the money he desperately needed? If he told you, you would try to talk him out of it. And he knew himself, you would definitely convince him to stay. But if he didn't tell you and he died, you would assume he walked out on you like he does everyone else. The last person in the world who still saw the good in him would see the truth.

He stopped typing. He had to do this. There was no other way.

You furrowed your eyebrows as the tiny message bubble disappeared. You replied: Keep me updated if you can. Good luck with the games :)

He smiled slightly, but it was fleeting.

Thanks, I'm gonna need it.

He really did need it. He felt like nothing had gone how he expected it through the entirety of the games. He picked the hardest shape in dalgona, faced one of the strongest teams in tug of war, and paired with his closest ally in Marbles. Overall, a few hundred people died in his attempt to survive. Most were not by his own hand, but he still felt the overwhelming guilt of every life lost like he was at fault. He made it through all of this, but it never felt like he had a say in any of it. He felt like the universe was stringing him along to see what other hell he could be put through.

You kept to your word. You tried to stop in to see his mother once a day. You made excuses to see her. One day, you made too much food and gave her the leftovers. The next, Sang-woo's mother asked you to deliver something to her. She seemed somewhat suspicious with your intentions, but you could tell deep down that she appreciated your concern. She seemed mostly fine. She was more tired than usual and a bit less lively, but you hadn't thought that her condition was worsening.

At one point, she even asked you, “How come you seem to care about me more than my own son?”

The words tugged on your heart. “Gi-hun cares. I'm sure he's trying his best to be able to pay for your treatment.” You said. You weren't lying. He was trying his best. Unbeknownst to you, he was putting his life on the line for her.

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Then where is he?” She asked. You didn't have an answer for her. “You have too much faith in him. The quicker you see the truth, the better.”

You should have defended him. You wanted to. But you just couldn't. He'd been gone for how many days without a word. Was she right? Were you just too naive? Maybe he really did skip town and leave you behind. You didn't want to believe it, but you couldn't find a different explanation at the moment. You made your excuse to leave as soon as you could.

You tried to cling onto hope as long as you could. It all came to a head one night when you stopped after you had a double shift at work. You knew it was late, but you wanted to stop by since you hadn't been able to all day.

You knocked on the door. No answer.

You knocked again. Nothing.

“Mal-soon?” You called.

You strained to hear inside. You could hear something. Almost sounded like crying.

You tried to open the door. It was open. You decided you had the right away to check on her safety. You felt a pit in your stomach as you swung the door open. You took a few steps in to find Gi-hun on the floor holding his mom. She isn't breathing. He hadn't noticed you.

“Gi-hun?” You asked.

He didn't react. He was distraught. Rightfully so, of course.

You knelt down. “Gi-hun!” You called. You reached out to touch his shoulder, and he flinched away violently from your touch. His eyes looked wild, like he had expected you to hurt him.

Your breath hitched as you yanked your hand away. Your eyes were wide. “Hey, it's me. It's just me.” You said softly.

He looked up at you, and the second he recognized you, he threw his arms around you.

You froze for a moment before wrapping your arms around him, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't the time for that.

You didn't know how long you sat there with him. You just sat and comforted him. Your fingers carded through his hair. You didn't say anything. How could you? What would you even say? There are no words in this scenario. You shed tears as well. You have been seeing her so often recently. A part of you blamed yourself, but you didn't voice it. Maybe you missed a sign. You should have come here on your break so you could have prevented it.

Eventually, he confided in you about everything that happened. The games, the death, the violence, the money. Telling you about Sang-woo was the hardest part. You couldn't believe it. You didn't even know he was struggling for money. You didn't even get to say goodbye. He was gone. You'd later see the media expose him for various financial crimes, but he was “evading arrest” according to the police.

The next year of your life involved trying to live with the shell of the man who was left. He hardly did much of anything. He moved into your apartment for the time being. He paid your rent in full, but he refused to touch any more of the money. He hardly ate, hardly sleeping. It was hard to watch your best friend succumb to the demons in his mind, but you stayed with him through it all.

Then, one night, he wasn't home when you arrived home after work. It freaked you out beyond belief. Considering his emotional state, you feared the worst. You tried calling him but he didn't answer. You didn't even know who else to call. You were pretty much the only person who knew he was still here. It probably seemed like he skipped town to everyone else.

But when he came back, there was something different about him. Literally and metaphorically. He had gone and got a goofy haircut. It was cut shorter and dyed a candy apple red. But more than that, he seemed to finally have the spark he once had. You could see your friend through the cracks of his once hardened exterior. He was himself again.

God, you missed him so much despite the fact you had been under the same roof for over a year. You missed the way the skin around his eyes creased when he smiled. You missed the sound of his laugh. You missed the joking and lighthearted teasing. You missed the random acts of kindness he would do when he felt he owed you something. You finally had your friend back, and you couldn't be happier.

He had some business to attend to. You weren't entirely sure what it was, but he assured you it was nothing dangerous. And then he decided he was going to go over to the US to be near Ga-yeong.

It was a bittersweet feeling. You knew it was something he really wanted. Of course, he wanted a chance to be in his daughter's life. You obviously wouldn't try to stop him from doing so. He had every right to go.

But a part of you felt betrayed. His family hadn't even tried to contact him once in the past year. Maybe Ga-yeong wanted to and wasn't allowed to, but as far as you were aware, they didn't even bother to check in with him. Even after his mother died.

But you had stayed with him in his darkest hours. You made sure his daily needs were met when he didn't have the energy to sustain himself. You talked him down from trying to end his suffering. You were woken up by the screams he would let out as he had nightmares. You stayed with him through all of it, and now he was leaving.

You made no attempts to stop him, but you felt a piece of your soul die every time he mentioned it.

He could sense there was something bothering you, but he couldn't find a way to start the conversation about it. He knew you were probably upset about him leaving, but he also knew opening up that line of questioning wouldn't be helpful. Because you both knew there was nothing you could do to stop him, and it would likely just end in an argument. Ignoring it felt like the easiest option for both of you. The path of least resistance.

So you said goodbye. You allowed your best friend, your only friend, leave you. He would probably be happier that way.

He cracked a joke as he left, and you laughed weakly. He closed the door behind him. You were trying to hold yourself together. He lingered outside the door for a moment. You knew because you didn't hear his footsteps leaving the hall.

He was second-guessing his decision as he stood. Were you going to stop him? Maybe you would follow him out and beg for him to stay. You would be able to convince him. He'd give in with little resistance just to be with you.

You didn't open the door.

He waited for a minute or so before walking away, looking somewhat dejected.

When you heard his footsteps fade into silence, you broke down.

He was gone.

You were shocked when he arrived back at your apartment 2 hours after his departure time with dried blood in a trail running down the side of his neck.

“What the hell happened to you?” You asked, stepping back to let him into your apartment.

There was a hint of that panic inside him. The panic you saw in full force the night his mother passed away. But there was also a deep-seated anger. You could see it in his eyes.

“I saw the salesman in the airport terminal.” He said without elaboration.

You had been getting a wet paper towel for him to clean off the blood as he said it. You turned around and gave him a confused look. “Am I supposed to know who that is?” You asked.

“The man who recruits for the games.” He said.

Your eyes went wide. You handed him the towel. “Did he say anything to you?”

He shook his head.

“Why did you come back?” You asked.

He sighed. “I can't just sit by and allow the games to continue. If I did, it would be a slap in the face for all 455 of the others who died. I need to find a way to stop them.”

You were still confused. “Okay, but what's with the blood?” You asked. He hadn't explained, and you wanted to make sure he was okay.

He seemed puzzled until he realized what you were talking about. “They had a chip in me. They were tracking me.” He said.

“Holy shit, why did you cut it out yourself?” You asked, a slightly scolding tone in your voice.

He didn't have a satisfying answer for you.

You left the room to grab a first aid kit to help patch him up. You both felt sparks fly whenever your fingers would graze his skin.

When you dabbed the wound with an antiseptic, he instinctively tried to pull away. You moved your free hand to lightly grab his jaw to hold him in place. You could feel his shoulders shake as his breath was caught in his throat. You assumed it was due to the pain, but in reality, the sudden contact flustered him a bit.

You bandaged him up the best you could with the supplies you had on hand. He probably should have gotten a stitch or two, but you managed to stop the bleeding yourself.

“Promise me that next time you will leave the exploratory surgery for the experts.” You said softly. You phrased it jokingly, but you were dead serious. That could have been dangerous for him if he had nicked something.

He laughed. “How about there's just no next time?”

You smiled, but you had a gut feeling that this wouldn't be the last time this would happen. He displayed almost a disregard for his own safety and it scared the hell out of you.

You once again saw your friend change drastically, but this time, you weren't sure if it was for the better or for the worse. He tried to keep you at an arm's length, likely due to the fact he had seen so many people close to him die.

Even more troubling, he dedicated himself to taking down the games at all cost. He bought a motel to conduct his operation from. It would be his war room. He tried doing it alone for a year or two, but he soon realized this was going to take more work than he could do himself (although you helped when you could).

He started working with Mr. Kim and his lackeys, hiring them to patrol the city to find any activity of the games. Suddenly, every subway station in the city had two men watching over it at all hours of the day. He made them document their patrol and controlled everything from his car with a dozen different electronics to monitor.

You felt like he was making his own game in a way. Stringing along people who are desperate for money, tracking their every move, dangling elusive prize money over their heads if they disagreed. You would never tell him that, but you couldn't get the thought to leave your mind.

He did everything he could. Even if it wasn't entirely legal. He had been getting way too many weapons too quickly for it to be above board.

Deep down, you thought this was a fruitless endeavor. The people who ran the games managed to be completely untraceable for years. They had the money and resources to own an island, a small militia, and a massive crematorium. And Gi-hun was just one man obsessed with taking them down, with a few dozen loan sharks and petty criminals doing his bidding just because of the money that got sent their way.

You tried to support him as best as you could. You often brought him meals when you knew he was working especially hard. He often didn't even remember the last time he ate something, so you figured if you were already making food for yourself, you might as well make him a portion as well.

That's what you were doing when you heard the single gunshot. You had been using your key for the motel door when you heard it ring out. You started panicking, suddenly having difficulty with the lock as your hands trembled.

You feared the worst. A single gunshot isn't typical of a confrontation. It implies intent to kill. And you knew there wasn't supposed to be anyone else in the building.

You eventually got your hands to work to remove the chain. You swung the door open, barely remembering to close it.

You called out his name. Heading toward the back room where he usually stayed, you couldn't stop yourself from getting panicked. You didn't even want to go in the room. You didn't want to see it. You didn't want to walk in to see his body, your best friend dead.

Luckily, that isn't what you saw. Gi-hun was sitting at a table, just staring over the body of another man. The man was slumped over onto the table. You could hear the pattering of blood dripping onto the tile floor.

“Gi-hun, what happened?” You asked, stepping closer to him. You tried to keep your gaze focused on him. The sight of the man in front of him was ghastly. You could smell the metallic scent of his blood in the air, and it made you queasy.

He hardly reacted to your presence, only murmuring a soft, “He lost the game.”

(And reader, you too just lost the game 😉)

Your brain was putting together the pieces of the situation, and every piece of the puzzle only fueled the anger and fear within you. “Please don't tell me you were playing Russian Roulette.” You said. There was a desperation behind your words. You were almost begging for it to be true.

He didn't understand your concern. “Why does it matter? I won anyway.” He said. He carried little regard for his own life at this point. He saw this as a win for the cause. He just killed their recruiter, the man who reaches out to the desperate people to take advantage of them. This was a victory. Why didn't you see that?

You stood there in shock at his words. “What do you mean ‘Why does it matter?’ You could have died.” You said strongly.

“I did what I had to do!” He said, raising his voice at you. Your breath caught in your throat. You tried hopelessly to see your best friend in the man who sat before you. The games really changed him, but that didn't mean you didn't care about him.

“Really?” You countered, “You had to put the gun to your head and pull the trigger? Did he force you to?”

He scoffed. “You don't get it.”

You laughed. “I don't get it? Go on, enlighten me then.” Your sarcasm was just a way to disguise your fear and concern.

He rolled his eyes. “That's how things work with them. The game has to be-”

“Fuck the games!” You cried out. He seemed to sober up a bit at your outburst. You took a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down. You didn't mean to yell at him. You were just so scared.

“If you are trying to take them down, why do you care about the rules? You could have just shot that man and been done with it.” You said, trying to reason with him.

He didn't say anything in response to your question. He wasn't going to be convinced of anything you said, and he knew he wouldn't be able to explain his thought process. It wasn't worth the argument. He had to follow the rules because that's how things work. He needed an opening to get back into contact with them, and while the game of Russian Roulette killed his only lead, it was the first lead he had in years. He was close.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you.” He said sheepishly.

You sighed. “Me too.” You said softly. You paused for a moment. “Just don't be so reckless, okay? Plus, hearing a single gunshot while you were alone was terrifying.” You said with a light chuckle.

You saw the look of realization on his face when he finally understood why you were so freaked out. “Oh, you thought I-” He started.

You nodded. “Yeah.” You cut him off.

There was an awkward silence before Gi-hun spoke up. “So what did you bring me?” He asked.

His nonchalance about sitting across from a dead man was concerning to you, but unfortunately, it made sense to you since he was probably desensitized after his time in the games. When you've seen enough doom and gloom as he had, you have to be able to laugh, or you'll drive yourself to madness

“Your favorite.” You said, setting the bag holding the food onto the reception desk. “More importantly though, what are you going to do with…” You trailed off, gesturing to the body, “him.”

He sighed. “I haven't the slightest idea.”

You never did find out how he dealt with that situation. You had a busy few day stretch at work, so you hardly had time to stop by the motel. October had always been a busy time at your workplace, but you had managed to get the holiday off. You found yourself at the motel once again. Gi-hun had mentioned that there was going to be their next step on Halloween, and while you were hesitant to get involved, he convinced you to sit in on the meeting. But you were convinced it was just so you could make something for the men to eat, since he always said that your food was “simply the best.”

You sat in the back of the room, just observing the surroundings. You really only recognized one other person, Choi Woo-seok. You frequently used the subway station that he was posted in with Mr. Kim. Your conversations had never gotten much farther than small talk, but even if they had, he seemed to have changed so much after the death of his boss. He was clearly committed to the cause now, with or without the money.

There were also some mercenaries Gi-hun had hired. Something that you doubted was legal but never mentioned. And there was another man as well. You hadn't seen him before today at all, but he seemed to be someone who Gi-hun trusted, seeing as he was so close to the investigation.

You were really only half paying attention, idly fidgeting with the bracelet you were wearing. You knew that you weren't going to be involved in the actual operation itself, so you didn't have that much of a need to listen. But when you did tune in, you felt like you got punched in the face.

“So what is your plan when you meet with the man in charge?” One of the mercenaries asked.

Gi-hun answered, “I'm going to ask to go back into the games.”

Your head shot up to look at him. You wished you misheard him, but you knew you didn't. He didn't look at you, almost like he was ashamed that you heard it. But he knew what he was doing. He invited you intentionally so you knew what was going on, but he was hoping to leave as soon as they were done with the meeting. As much as it made him feel like a deadbeat, he knew he couldn't bear to face you after you learned of the plan.

Unfortunately for him, you were stubborn as a mule.

While they were getting things ready to leave, you made your way over to him. “May I have a word with you?” You asked. Your voice was soft, but your tone was less like a question and more like an order.

He unwillingly followed you out into the hallway, shutting the door behind you both.

“What the fuck are you thinking?” You asked the second the door shut.

He rolled his eyes slightly. “How else will I get to the island? We can't even find it. If I go in as a player, it'll be easy.” He said.

You scoffed. “Yeah and what happens when the games start?”

“I'll have the tracker so the guys can find me. Plus, I've played the games before, so I'll know how to make it through them this time.” He said.

“What makes you think they'll follow their own rules?” You asked.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. “The rules are of high importance to them. They wouldn't break them, trust me.” He said.

“That was before you were hell bent on taking down the regime. They could just kill you. I don't know why you aren't getting that.” You said. Your voice was starting to waver slightly as your emotions rose. You couldn't even begin to identify the feelings swirling around in your brain.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Then that's a risk I'm willing to take.”

“Why?!” You asked loudly. He looked like a deer in headlights. “Is this really that important to you that you'll throw your life away for it?” You asked.

“How many lives were thrown away because of the games? Something needs to change.” He said. You could hear the determination in his voice, but to you, it sounded like blind faith.

“I understand that, but is it really worth dying for? Not seeing your daughter?” You asked. The words ‘not seeing me’ were left unsaid.

You seem to have struck a nerve, but he didn't respond with anger. “I'm the only person who has a decent shot in pulling it off. I know what I'm doing.” He sighed.

You fight off the tears forming in your eyes. “What happens when your luck runs out? You're staking your life on blind faith.” you asked quietly. You met his eyes to see that his were glassy as well. You wrapped your arms around your torso, hoping to soothe yourself to an extent.

After a moment of silence, you continued speaking. “I'm just so fucking scared, Gi-hun. I can't lose you too, I can't.” You said, voice becoming more frantic. The second a tear rolled down your cheek his arms were around you, engulfing you into his embrace.

You cried into his chest as he rubbed your back so gently. He didn't know what to say to comfort you because the only thing that would calm your fears would be him deciding not to go, and you both knew that wasn't going to happen.

You felt him take a deep breath, his shoulders shaking slightly. He was crying at this point, too. He felt so bad for you. He knew he was causing you pain and distress, but he knew that he needed to do it. Why did he have to hurt everyone he loved? You were the one person he had left in his life, and he was walking out on you again. You understood his reason, but it still hurt you.

After a few moments, Gi-hun spoke. “I love you.” He said softly. It was his first time saying it, but it was a fact he had known for years. He had always been too afraid to say it. He ended up pushing everyone he loved away, and he didn't want to lose you, too. But leaving it unsaid and keeping you at an arm's length was doing the same. He realized that now, and since he was walking into danger again, he wasn't going to make the mistake of not letting you know. You had to know. He hoped his show of devotion could give you hope that he would do anything necessary to make it home to you.

You didn't pull back to look at him. You just hugged him tighter. “I love you too. I always have.” You replied. Those words had been caged by your fear of ruining your friendship, but now they were let free. It felt like a weight off your chest.

“I promise, I'm going to make it out of there, okay?” He said. He meant it wholeheartedly, but you both knew that the promise could very well become empty.

You pulled away from his embrace. “You better. If you don't, I'll kill you myself.” You said with a slight smile across your face. He laughed at your contradiction.

You just looked up at him, contemplating leaning in to kiss him, but the door to the hall swung open. You both turned to look at the noise, and Gi-hun cleared his throat awkwardly. Woo-seok stood in the doorway. “We should really get going.” He said.

You both met each other's eyes again. “Good luck.” You said.

He gave you a slight bow of his head before leaving. You tried to push down the fact that this might be the last time you saw him. Repressing it seemed to be the easiest way to continue functioning.

You had stayed in the motel until the rest of them returned, sans Gi-hun. You tried to ignore the pit in your stomach that grew as you realized there was no going back.

You exchanged phone numbers with Woo-seok and the other man you didn't know until then, Hwang Jun-ho. You asked them to send you updates when they could.

For the next few days, you tried to keep yourself as busy as you could. If you were working, your mind couldn't wander. You couldn't think about the fact your best friend might never come home. The man you loved might be gone forever. There's nothing you can do anymore.

This need to be busy only intensified after Jun-ho had told you that they found the tracking chip in the bait of a fisherman. The gamemakers ruined the one way they definitely would be able to bring Gi-hun home. There was no telling where he was anymore, although the men went with the boat captain to search the sea regardless.

You worked as many shifts at work as you could. You were only home long enough to pass out for a few hours before you had to get up to do it again.

That was until you passed out at work. Your boss wanted to take you to the hospital to be checked out, but you refused. You knew it was probably because you were dehydrated and not eating regularly. Your boss gave you a few days off to rest, and there was no convincing them otherwise.

Being at your apartment was basically torture. You could only do so much to distract yourself there. Plus, you found little reminders of Gi-hun's presence (or lack thereof) in your home. And being at the motel was worse. It, too, was empty for most of the time. There were two mercenaries stationed there, just in case something would happen. They had plenty of resources needed for the cause there, so Gi-hun wanted to protect it. Plus, the two men left behind weren't sociable at all.

So you stayed home. Most of your time was spent on the couch, sitting idly while reruns of some TV show you'd never seen before played in the background of your anxiety-ridden thoughts. Sometimes, when you needed to be actively doing something, you kept your apartment spotless in an attempt to keep yourself busy.

You didn't know how long they should expect him to be gone for. You knew that back during his first games, he had been gone for maybe 5 days after he told you he was going back to the games.

As it neared two weeks of waiting, you started to accept that he was probably dead. You weren't being given updates anymore, probably because there weren't any to give. There was no way to get leads when every plan had failed so far.

You were once again zoned out on the couch. It was nearing the time most people would eat dinner, but you didn't feel like eating right now. It was hard to eat when the pit in your stomach felt like it was swallowing you whole. You were sitting on the couch, unfocused gaze watching the TV screen while your mind was elsewhere.

Until you heard a knock at the door. You heard the noise, but you hadn't realized what it actually was. Maybe it was in someone else's apartment. Maybe you were just hearing things.

The knock rang out once more. You recognized it was at your door, but you were trying to get yourself the motivation to go see who it was. When it happened a third time, you finally got up. You ought to give them a piece of your mind for disturbing you. You weren't expecting anyone. It was probably a traveling salesman or some American missionary or something.

You twisted the handle. “What do you wa-” You started to ask as you opened the door, but your words got caught in your throat at the sight.

It's him. It's really him.

Your arms were around him within milliseconds, pulling him into a hug a bit more roughly than he was expecting.

He chuckled softly. “Easy there.” He said jokingly. He slowly helped to move you back a step so he could shut the door behind you both before he embraced you once again.

You were crying the second you laid your eyes on him. Happy tears this time. He's back. He's really back. Your fingers clenched the fabric of his shirt, shoulders shaking with your sobs.

He'd be lying if he claimed he hadn't shed a few tears. He was exhausted, but he was just so relieved to be back. To be here with you. To have you in his arms again.

He stood there in your embrace, comforting you with infinite patience. He rubbed your back gently. He occasionally murmured something to remind you he was here. He's not going anywhere. He loves you so much, you know that, right?

You stopped crying, instead turning your head so your ear was against his chest. You listened to his heartbeat like it was a prayer. He's alive. He's alive and back home with you, and listening to the steady rhythm helped you realize that.

Even after you calmed down, neither of you wanted to let go of the other. You both had feared you wouldn't get to do this again, so you wanted to savor the moment for as long as you could.

You were the first to pull away. You wanted to ask him about what happened. But there was something else that Gi-hun had feared he would never get to do.

Before you even had a chance to speak, his lips crashed into yours. You were in shock for a moment, but it didn't take long for your brain to catch up and kiss him back. It was full of desperation and longing and love, and it felt incredible. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers idly toying with hair.

Eventually, you both pulled away for air. You laughed breathlessly, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to do that.” He said quietly, only making the blush on your face more obvious.

You cleared your throat. You tried to stutter out an agreement, but you couldn't form the words. Instead, you nodded vigorously with a soft “Y-yeah.”

He laughed at your flustered demeanor. Knowing he was responsible for that made him stirred butterflies in his stomach.

You interrupted his laughter with another kiss. You smiled into it, slowly trailing your hands from his neck to his chest. You felt his breath hitch at the movement. This kiss was softer and sweeter.

When you pulled away, you looked up at him. “You're probably starving. Go get yourself cleaned up, I'll start working on making something to eat.” You said.

“You're the best.” He said, a smile creeping onto his face.

You smirked. “I know.” He rolled his eyes slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before heading off down the hallway.

You know, you should have assumed there was a larger depth to your relationship once he had spare clothes in your apartment.

After he walked away, you couldn't wipe the stupid smile off your face. You were just happy. For the first time in a long time, you were happy. Happy he was safe, obviously, but also relieved that your previously unrequited love wasn't really unrequited. Having it out in the open was freeing, exhilarating even.

You started working on preparing a meal. His favorite, of course. As the food started cooking, you suddenly realized how hungry you actually were. The apartment was quiet, except for the running water, and a sound that you swore was Gi-hun humming in the shower.

After a while, he must have left the hallway without you seeing him. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, the sudden contact making you jump.

“Fuck you.” You said with no malice.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “How much longer do you think?” He asked.

You sighed in mock annoyance. “It would probably go faster if I didn't have you clinging onto me like a koala.” You said.

He didn't let go, instead burying his head into the crook of your neck. He was mentally scolding himself for not having the guts to accept his feelings until now. He also regretted every time he took you for granted. Every time he gambled the money that you were able to spare. Every time he kept you at arms length in order to save himself the pain of losing you like he had everyone else.

Ultimately, all of those decisions led him to this moment. Fate, luck, destiny, call it whatever you want. All of it led to this. And this was fucking amazing. While holding you in his arms, he started to believe he really was the luckiest man in the world.

#nick writes stuff #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #gi hun x reader #seong gi hun x reader #gi hun x you

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factual-fantasy · 2 months ago

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28 Asks! Thank you! :}} 🧚‍♀️

@chromchill @misscherrypie

Its been a bit stressful 😅 I've put lot of pressure on myself to get them done fast and make them look good. I'll be relieved for the short break when these last two slots are filled and done. After that I can slow down and complete a few transformers projects I have lined up :0

Thank you so much! :DD I've actually been thinking about giving the bots holoforms a lot lately. Like how Arcee has that human hologram on her back when she's in her alt mode. But make it more like steven universe gems where their holoforms are condensed light/energy and have mass to them.

I've been thinking of how they work and how the bots would get them to look like humans. If they scan cars to turn into them, surly they would scan a human to make their holoforms look like them, right? Buuuut then they'd be identical to the humans they scanned and that's identity theft...

I still have a lot of brainstorming to do <XD

🙏🙏Peace and kindness friend! ❤️

(Link in ask)

Oooooo he probably has.. :000 what an evil king...

@holly-opal-2

Right here bud! :D

So I've heard! :DD My main hope is that we get to see Papyrus and that he's ok :}}}

@neo-metalscottic (Wreck it Ralph fanart)

Thank you so much! I hope you have a good day as well! :DD

As for my requests, its going better than I thought but its still a bit stressful 😅 I cant help but feel the pressure of getting these pieces done in a timely manner and to make them look the very best I can make them. But I've been able to rake in some money thanks to all those kind folks! Which has been such a relief on depts and food. You guys are the best! 🫶❤️❤️❤️

And lastly, thank you!! :DD I'm glad you like how the piece came out! :DD Its been a long time since I watched the movie but I remember enjoying it. Although I don't think I understood King Candy's motives for making that one kid into a glitch..? Which made me not like him very much.

And I remember Ralph being my favorite character! ....annnd I also remember not liking how much dumber Ralph felt in the second move <:/

@moonwolfblogging

Oh woof. I hadn't considered all of that back then :00 poor Barnacles 💀

That depends, are you willing to eat an entire stick of refrigerated butter? 👁️👁️

My all time favorite character from TFP is Ratchet! :)) Tho Bulkhead is a close seconds by like a hair. The more I watch the show the closer to being my top favorite he becomes <XDD (Also my favorite TFP decepticon is Soundwave!)

When it comes to the movies, I have seen the bayverse movies and that one bumble bee movie. And I thiiink I can safely say my favorite bot in both was Optimus Prime :)

@mothydemons

WAAAAHHGG THATS SO SWEETTT THANK YUU AND TELL YOUR SISTER I THANK HER AS WELLL 😭😭😭💞💞💞💞💞

(Also I love those two characters! :DD They look really cool! :}}} )

(Referencing this post)

XD As long as I'm alive, so is he!

I am always stressed <:) Existing is very upsetting! ❤️ Thank you for the tea and cake tho! :)

@im-nice-but-i-dont-like-you

Yes! :DD Its been a bit stressful so far but not as bad as I thought it would be! :)) (ALSO AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD )

@chickenmilk120

Aw! :DD Thank you so much! :))

If Bash ever went fully blind it would be very hard for him mentally :( and obviously physically-

I mean, losing part of his vision was already bad enough. He lost the ability to recognize faces.. so you can imagine he's always on edge, and always nervous. Not being able to tell your friends apart from the enemy on the battlefield has resulted in injuries I'm sure..

But to go completely blind? Man.. the stress would probably kill him. Making him feel like a helpless or caged animal. Not to mention a "useless" one too..

Thank you!! 🥰🥰

@doodleclownbunny

I think I like Fantasy or Factual just fine <XD Also thank you so much! :))

@loud-kid2

With his really wide smile and unusual eyes, he seems like a lot of fun to draw in a more horrific light. Otherwise he's alright :0 my favorite of the 3 boo types is still the classic large boo with the little gold crown.👑

AAAAA YOU'RE WELCOME!! :DDD AND ALSO W RATCHET LOVER HE'S MY FAVORITE TOO 🧡🚑🧡

@florafandoms

Thank you so much!! :DDD

Also lion guard looks familiar, I swear I've seen that lion cub before.. although I've never watched it <:/

@multifandomgummybear

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD💞💞

I've unfortunately become more skeptical of Rescue Bots and any spin offs of it recently. <:(

I've gotten word that they really baby-ified the series, and broke a lot of the established canon for the sake of selling the show to kids. The best example being that they brought Optimus back to life with apparently no reasonable explanation..

The insistence that these two shows are canonically connected to Prime makes me really not want to watch them. Because its just been baby-ified and its like all of the serious tones and events of Prime don't matter at all and somethings are completely reversed..

(If I'm wrong please lmk--)

Thank you so much! :DD Also hmmm... that's a good question..

When it comes to the most pleasant experience I've had with posting fanart and interacting with a fandom, its probably the transformers prime fandom :))

@digi-vie

Ooo! :00 They both look very good! Thank you for showing me! :)))

@theintroverse (Referencing this post)

As many as I can draw I suppose! XD

@beryl-shade (Referencing this post)

XD sorry for the scare!

#my response #transformers prime #transformer ocs

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letstalkaboutfandomsbaby · 3 months ago

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╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

buff guy

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Part 10 ɞ

❥ CW: chubby fem reader x buff guy, fluff, smut, shopping date, makeout session

❥ A/N: thank you for your patience my lovelies, i hope you enjoy 💕

"Can I take you somewhere this weekend?"

"Like where?" Mohammed smiles, taking a sip of his drink.

"I want to take you shopping."

You choke on your drink, coughing into your fist.

"Shopping? Where did that come from?"

"I like how you dress, I really do, but I want to give you some more clothes to wear. I want to dress you up with clothes I got for you."

"Like a doll?" you ask teasingly, and he looks away, embarrassed.

"I don't want you to feel like a toy, or like I own you."

"I don't." You reach out for his hand, smiling at him when he grabs it. "I would feel bad if you spent that kind of money on me. You've already gotten me jewelry and perfume that was way too expensive."

"I don't care about money." He brings your hand to his lips, kisses your knuckles. "I only care about you." You giggle, waving him off.

"Stop, you're gonna make me blush." He smiles, kissing your hand again.

"So? Is that a yes?"

You think for a moment, considering the pros and cons before you nod.

"Sure, I'll let you take me shopping." He does a fist bump and you laugh. "I will warn you though! There's not a lot of places that carry my size. I am a big girl, after all."

"I'll do some research. I'll find some places to take you, I promise."

"Break time's over!" your coworker calls.

"Time to go, handsome." He smiles at the compliment, standing up with you and opening his arms for a hug. You fall into him, arms wrapped around his torso as you snuggle into his chest. He kisses the crown of your head, smoothing his hands over your back.

"I'll pick you up at eleven on Saturday. Do you want to eat while we're out?" You hum in thought.

"Can we get takeout and bring it back to my place? And then we can watch a movie?"

"I'd love that." You get up on your tiptoes to kiss him before pulling away and waving.

"Bye, Guy." You wince, scrunching your face. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry. I'm just so used to calling you 'Guy'."

"It's okay," he waves you off. "I'm not worried about it. You can keep calling me 'Guy' if you want."

"Are you sure? I don't want to make it weird by calling you something else when I finally know your name."

"It's fine. I like it. It's my own special nickname." You giggle.

"Okay, alright. I'll alternate between the two."

"Sounds good."

"Hello? Break time is all done! Quit chit-chatting and get back over here before I get you fired!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming!"

"You look cute," he says when you open the door, "as always."

"It's just leggings and a cropped sweater."

"Which is really cute. And sexy. Gives me a look at your hips."

You giggle, turning around and giving a pose.

"And a good look at my ass."

He nods, glancing over you before giving you a thumbs up.

"Nice butt."

You laugh, turning back around and grabbing his hand, going to his car.

He drives you to a shopping area, an expensive one that you've never ventured to because you knew it was out of your price range. You glance around while he parks, staying in the car while he gets out because you know he likes opening the door for you.

When he helps you out of the car, he pays the parking meter and grabs your hand, taking you along the sidewalk.

"You were right," he starts, "there's not a lot of places that have good clothes in your size, which is bullshit."

"I told you. Were you able to find anything?"

"Of course. There's a plus-size store for women down the road a little bit. We could try some other places too, if you want, but this store is specifically for plus-size women."

"Aw, look at you being all sweet and doing research on where I can get clothes. You're so romantic."

"This is just basic decency. Every guy should be treating you like this." He pauses, looking at you. "I take that back. Only I should be doing these things for you. But other guys should be doing this for their partners too."

You laugh, leaning into his arm as you walk.

"You're so cute I could die!"

"Don't do that. I want to spend a lot more time with you."

You arrive at the storefront, Mohammed opening the door for you. You enter the almost completely white interior, looking around at the array of clothing they had. Jeans and t-shirts, but also dresses, bags, and jewelry.

"Hi!" a sales clerk greets you, walking towards the two of you. "Welcome in! Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Actually—"

"Yes," Mohammed speaks up, stepping forward and gesturing towards you. "I'm looking for some clothes for my girlfriend."

"Oh! How exciting! What are you looking for?"

"Well—"

"I want some clothes that highlight her beauty." He motions his hands to outline your body. "I like her curves, and I would love some clothing that accentuates her curves. I also think she looks nice in florals and bright colors, but not so bright that she gets everyone's attention. Oh, and I would love to get some gold jewelry; I think she looks really nice in gold—"

"Mohammed!"

He stops, looking at you.

"What?"

"Can I speak to you?" you ask, an edge to your tone. He gulps, nodding, following you a few steps away from the sales clerk.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" you ask in a hushed voice. "What's wrong is you coming into the store and telling some girl how you want me to dress! Have you lost your damn mind?"

"I... I thought you wanted to go clothes shopping."

"I do, but I didn't come here for you to dictate what I should wear." You point your finger into his chest, giving him a serious look. "You don't get to tell me what to do. You don't get to tell me what to eat or where to go or what to wear. Got it?"

He swallows, nodding slow.

"I... I'm sorry. I've always done it this way in the past." You arch your brow.

"How many girls have you done this for?" He looks at the ground.

"Two."

You huff, crossing your arms.

"I have no right to be mad. We probably didn't even know each other when you did those things."

"We didn't. I wouldn't have done these things with other girls if I knew you were out there."

You sigh, glancing around the store.

"Just don't take charge of things like that when it should be my decision, okay? I'm the one who's going to be wearing the clothes, so I should be the one to choose them." He nods, still staring at the ground.

"You're right. I'm sorry." You tap your finger against your arm.

"Just don't do it again."

"I won't." He looks up at you like a sad puppy. "Are you mad at me?"

"...No. I just don't like being told what to do."

"I understand. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

You sigh, reaching up and pinching his cheek gently.

"Quit pouting. This was supposed to be fun. Just no more taking charge, okay?"

He nods, still looking sad as he leans into your hand, nuzzling your palm.

"Do you want a kiss?"

"Yes, please," he replies.

He leans down and you kiss him chastely, giving him several little pecks before pulling away and smiling.

"It's okay. Just learn from this experience."

"I will."

You grab his hand, pulling him back to the sales clerk who stops folding some clothes.

"I'm ready to shop now!"

The sales clerk is very kind to you, showing you around, recommending different outfits for you to try on. You pick and choose the outfits you'd like to try, now carrying a pile to the dressing rooms.

"Do you wanna see each one?" you ask Mohammed over your shoulder.

"If you don't mind."

You enter the dressing room, locking the door behind you. You start undressing, picking out your first outfit and putting it on. It's a pair of skinny jeans and a white blouse with puffy sleeves. You look yourself over in the mirror before leaving the dressing room, going to the sitting area where Mohammed was. He was leaning back against a couch, but he sits up when you walk out.

"What do you think?" you ask, doing a spin so he could look over all of you.

"You look nice."

"That's all? Just nice?" He shrugs, glancing away.

"Would you like me to say more?"

"Yes, please. Give me specifics or I'm just gonna put it back."

He looks you up and down, inhaling deep.

"You look like the innocent girl-next-door, the one who would bring me cookies and ask to drink a beer with me." You scrunch your face.

"I hate beer."

"I know. But that's what you look like to me." You twist your mouth in thought.

"That's definitely more detailed, but I'm not sold on the outfit. I feel like it makes my waist look big." He shrugs.

"Then put it back. Like you said, you should wear what you want, so if you don't like it, don't get it." You point at him.

"I like the support. Keep it up. And keep giving me those descriptions; they're cute to hear." He salutes you.

"Got it, boss."

You giggle, heading back to your dressing room, undressing and putting the outfit in the 'no' pile. You find another outfit, trying it on and going out to Mohammed.

"You look like the kind of girl that would flirt with me at the gym by asking to touch my muscles."

You try on another outfit.

"You look like a girl I would meet at the library who would be too shy to talk to me."

And another.

"You look like a girl who would try and sell me essential oils or herbal supplements."

His comments always made you laugh, but you didn't end up liking any of the outfits. They were all generic, boring, the kinds of clothes that didn't compliment your body, just tried to hide it. It was a shame, since Mohammed brought you all this way just to buy you clothes, and you weren't happy with anything.

You come out in your original outfit, looking glum.

"You didn't like any of them?"

"No," you mumble, shrugging. "I just didn't really enjoy anything. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he responds, standing up and walking towards you. "I wasn't too impressed with anything you wore either." He puts his hands on his hips, looking disappointed. "It sucks that the clothes weren't better suited toward you."

"Yeah."

The two of you stand there awkwardly.

"I feel like today was a bust," you say.

"It wasn't a total bust," he replies, taking your hand and squeezing it. "I got to see my girlfriend play dress-up which was pretty cute."

You scoff and roll your eyes.

"You're silly." He squeezes your hand again, making you look at him.

"Would you like some purses or jewelry? That stuff didn't look so bad." You glance around the store, twisting your mouth before nodding, smiling at him.

"Maybe just one purse, though. I don't need a million of them."

He smiles, leading you to the bags. You look around for a bit, picking up a bag and then opening it, turning it over before putting it back. You do this to a couple before you find one in your favorite color and a decent size. You hold it for a while, weighing it in your hands and deciding that yes, you would like this bag.

You turn to smile at Mohammed, but he's not next to you anymore. You frown, looking around the store before you see him standing over a table, looking at something. You walk over to him, glancing around his large form to see him holding a pair of lacy panties.

"Guy?"

He jolts, dropping the underwear and turning to you, covering the shelf of lingerie with his body.

"Y-You find what you want?" You arch your brow, smiling at him.

"Whatcha looking at?"

"N-Nothing."

"Ohhh, nothing, huh?" You take a step toward him, moving to the side to pick up the panties he was looking at. "This is nothing?"

He gulps, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I-I was just looking..." You hum, looking over the panties. They're white with little bows on the front and sides. You smirk at him.

"Were you thinking about me in this?" He can't look at you, glancing around the store.

"...Maybe."

"Hmm, interesting. And what exactly were you thinking about?"

"I just..." He runs a hand over his face. "I just think you would look really good in white."

"Cute and innocent, huh?" You swear you can see him blush. He nods slightly. You giggle. "Maybe I should get it, for when we finally do it."

He looks at you, eyes wide.

"I... I don't... you don't have—"

"It's fine." You nudge him with your elbow. "You're paying anyways. Think of it like a future present to yourself."

He follows you to the register, not able to look the sales clerk in the eye as he pays for your new purse and panties. You take the shopping bag from her, wishing her a good day before grabbing his hand and leading him out of the store.

"I'm so excited for this food!" you cheer as you unlock your apartment and open the door. "I haven't had Chinese food in so long."

"You like Chinese food?" Mohammed asks, following behind you into your apartment.

"Yeah, but I like all kinds of food, haha! I really like this place though because they give you so much fried tofu and it's so good."

"I see." He sets down the takeout bag on your coffee table as well as the bag from the store.

"Do you want anything to drink?" you ask, moving to the kitchen.

"What do you have?"

"Water, juice, diet soda." He hums.

"I'll take a soda."

"Okie dokie!"

You return with two cold sodas, joining him on the couch. He starts taking the food out of its bag while you turn on the TV and search for a movie to watch.

"What are you in the mood to see?" you ask him.

"Whatever you want to watch is fine."

"Well, if it's up to me, I'm gonna pick another rom-com."

"I like watching rom-coms with you," he says, pushing your food closer to you, grabbing some chopsticks and breaking them apart.

"You do?"

"Yeah. Sometimes I like to imagine us in the same scenario." You giggle.

"You're a silly goose."

"Am I your silly goose?"

"Of course." He smiles.

"That's all I care about."

You choose a movie, letting it start as you grab your food. You got General Tso's tofu with vegetables and rice, and he got orange chicken with lo mein as a side. You sit in silence as you eat, watching the movie you had seen several times before. When the food is gone, you cuddle up together, his arm around your shoulders as you lean into his chest.

"Can I say something?" you ask, tilting your head to look up at him.

"Of course."

"You've got nice boobs." He barks out a laugh, snorting and covering his mouth with his opposite hand.

"What? Boobs? What are you talking about?"

"Your pecs!" You sit up, motioning towards his chest. "They're very soft and comfortable. They're like boobs, you know?"

He puts his hands on his chest, looking down at them.

"I mean, I guess they are soft. I've never really thought about it."

"Can I touch them?" He glances at you, then shrugs.

"If you want to."

You smile, inching closer before stopping.

"Would it freak you out if I sat on your lap?" He visibly swallows but shakes his head.

"No, you can. I won't mind."

You smile again, crawling over him so that you were straddling his thighs, facing him. You rub your hands together in anticipation before reaching out, placing your hands on his pectorals.

"They're so big," you whisper before squeezing them, feeling them give under your fingers. "I told you they were like boobs."

"You seem to like them a lot."

"I do." You squeeze them again, giving them a little shake, which makes him chuckle.

"You're silly."

"You like it."

You keep massaging his muscles, squeezing and releasing them, molding them in your hands. You give him a sly grin.

"Is this turning you on?" He huffs.

"I guess it could be seen as arousing."

"So you aren't aroused?"

"I mean... you do look really hot sitting on my lap." You smirk, leaning in close to him.

"You wanna make out?" He gulps and nods.

"Yes, please."

You close the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips to his hungrily. He moans at the contact, his hands finding your waist and squeezing, thumbs digging into your plush stomach. You keen, molding your lips with his before opening your mouth just a bit and gliding your tongue over his lips. He's receptive to your advance, opening his mouth, his tongue meeting yours. Your mouths widen and your heads tilt in opposite directions, doing everything you can to get closer to one another. Your tongues swirl around each other, your moans drowning in your connected mouths. He pulls away suddenly, leaning his head back against the couch cushion, eyelids hanging low as he looks at you.

"Would it be okay if I touched your ass?" he asks, blinking slow. You nod quickly, gasping when you feel his large hands slide down your hips and grab your ass, pulling you closer to him.

"You're so fucking pretty," he breathes, leaning back in to kiss you. You whine, your hips moving on their own and grinding against his, making him groan. He pulls back, but keeps his mouth close to yours. "And soft. How are you so soft?"

"Squeeze my ass," you plead, planting your lips against his again. He sighs into you, his big hands squeezing as much of your ass as he can grab, pulling your hips to meet his. He helps guide your hips to grind against his, the zipper of his jeans brushing your clothed pussy. You try to manipulate yourself so that you can grind your clit down against the hard material.

"Such a good girl," he sighs, moving his lips to your neck and pressing open mouthed kisses against you. You moan, finding the perfect spot to grind down on and focusing there, moving your hips faster. "You're my good girl, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh," you whine, biting your lip as another moan slips out.

"Fuck, that's right. My sweet pretty girl. God, I love you, I love you so fucking much." You gasp, barely thinking before you reply.

"I love you too," you moan in his ear, hearing him inhale sharply. He pulls back to look at you, eyes glazed over.

"You mean it? You're not just saying it to make me feel better?" You shake your head.

"No. I mean it, Mohammed. I really do love you."

He sighs, lips crashing into yours once again. He grabs your hips, guiding them to grind down on his lap, making you moan. He's sucking on your tongue and meeting your hips with his, practically bucking up into you. Your hands glide from his cheeks to his neck and shoulders, squeezing along the way. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, moving your hips faster, humping his lap. He moans into you, mumbling praises in between kisses, but you can't make out what he's saying. Your hands plant themselves against his cheeks, holding him still so you can kiss him harder, more passionately. He moans, pulling you down against his lap, grinding you into him hard before he lets out a deep groan. You keep kissing him even as he whimpers and pushes your hips away.

"What's wrong?" you ask, pulling back to search his face. His eyes are squeezed shut, head tilted back against the couch, his chest heaving.

"I need to go," he says suddenly.

"What? Why? Are you just uncomfortable because we can stop if you want—"

"No, I just..." He runs his hands over his face, groaning in despair. "If I tell you, you're gonna laugh at me."

"What? What are you talking about? Whatever it is, I'm not gonna laugh at you, so just tell me."

He moves his fingers to peek at you with one eye. If he could blush, you imagine he'd be as red as a tomato right now.

"I'm just... really embarrassed."

"About what, honey?" He groans.

"This is the worst time to call me a pet name."

"Guy, just tell me what's going on. I'll be mad if you don't tell me."

He sighs deeply.

"I don't want you to be mad..."

"So then tell me what's going on."

He drops his hands to his sides, staring at the ceiling before glancing at you, then down at his lap. You follow his gaze to his jeans, searching before seeing a vague dark spot on his crotch.

"I... I'm sorry, I just... I got really excited and before I could do anything, it just..."

"Oh..." You hold your hands close to your chest, feeling your cheeks burn as you realize what happened. You swallow, clearing your throat. "I-It's okay! It's not your fault. These things happen."

"It's fucking embarrassing," he bemoans, turning his head to the side, staring out into the room. "I look like a fucking teenager right now."

"No you don't," you reassure, glancing back at him, seeing how upset he was. "I don't want you to be upset about this. These things happen."

"This is the first time I've lost control like this. I've never had this happen with a girl before."

"Ah... I see..." You fiddle with your hands, sitting up straight. "Well, then that just makes me feel really special! It means you like me so much that you can't even control those things around me." You wiggle off his lap, standing up in front of him. "Plus, you're not the only one who got excited. Here, look." You bend your leg and put your foot up on the couch beside him, tugging the crotch of your leggings to show the growing wet spot there. His eyes widen and he sits up, leaning forward to get a better look.

"This is because of me?"

"Of course it is. Who else could make me like this?"

His firm hand finds your thigh, rubbing your leg and sighing.

"You really don't think less of me because of it?"

"Of course not. It would be silly and mean to think that way. You're valid in how you feel and with what happened."

He nods, resting his temple against your knee, sighing.

"Now I'm gonna have to drive home with cum in my pants."

You snicker, touching his hand, making him look at you.

"We can wash them while we watch another movie. Come on. I have a pair of men's sweatpants that should fit you."

You go find your sweatpants and give them to Mohammed, letting him go to the bathroom to clean up and change. While he does so, you go to your bedroom and change your leggings and underwear, wiping yourself clean with a couple tissues. When you both return to the living room, you take both of your soiled clothes and go to the washer, throwing them in with some detergent and starting a quick cycle. You reconvene on the couch together, the movie finished at this point and the washer filling the room with noise.

"I'm really sorry," he says, hands folded in front of him.

"You have no reason to be. I enjoyed myself, and I'm glad you did too." He twiddles his thumbs, glancing at you.

"Do you really love me?" You huff, smiling.

"Yes, I do. I really love you, Mohammed."

He smiles softly, swaying his legs from side to side as he stares at his hands.

"That makes me really happy."

"I'm glad." You crawl over to him, leaning against his arm. "I like making you happy."

He turns his head to you. You stare at each other for a moment before you lean in for a kiss, soft and sweet. You pull away, smiling at him.

"Wanna watch another movie while your clothes wash?"

"Sure. You pick."

You roll your eyes, grabbing the remote.

#chubby reader x buff guy #smut

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