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bluesidez · 4 months ago

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Gym Rat Miguel Part 11 | chapter on AO3 for easier scrolling

content warning: fluff, some hurt/comfort?? angst??? bittersweet moments???, recreational use of zaza, some nerd talk, 18+ so MDNI, p in v sex (first time 😗)

word count: 10.1k, halfway proofread (don't ask me NOTHING...)

shout out to @hyjionie and @hwasoup for one of the ideas here! 😗 you guys will know it when you see it!

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GymRat!Miguel whose mom was driving him crazy. The flight for New York was at 7 am and somehow she was up running around the house at 2 am.

“Miguel! Get up, we have to go. Now!”

“Ma, no one is even driving on the road right at this hour. There's no traffic."

"Which is why you need to get up and move. You know Gabriel takes forever. Get up!"

GymRat!Miguel who groggily put on his clothes. It was the hoodie you got for him for Christmas with the doodle of the two of you on the front. If he was going to be stuck in the airport for hours, he might as well be comfortable.

GymRat!Miguel who looked made sure that his laptop was loaded with things to do.

He could catch up on shows he knew you watched so that you could have someone to rant to about them. He could listen to that one podcast you mentioned just because you mentioned it. He could read that one manga you were raving about because he was not going to compete with fictional men, and maybe, he could steal ideas from it.

GymRat!Miguel who went to wake up Gabriel before their mom's voice pierced both of their ears again.

He opened the door to see Gabriel staring bug-eyed at his wall while he ate a bowl of cereal.

“Did you go to sleep?” Miguel asked, closing the door and walking closer.

“No,” Gabriel said. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Miguel ran his hand over his hair, curly strands bouncing back, “Promise me you’ll try to sleep on the plane?”

Gabriel took his bowl to his mouth, slurping up the last drops, “Only if the voices let me.”

“Right,” Miguel says then takes his bowl from him. “Maybe you can have a conversation with them right now.”

“And maybe I will!”

GymRat!Miguel who stares at the bags his dad has stuffed into the trunk with awe.

“Pa, you know we’ll only be there for three days, right?”

George presses against the trunk with a little more force than needed, “You never know what could happen, mijo.”

GymRat!Miguel whose bones shake with exhaustion as he stares out the window on the way to the airport. Maybe it’s due to the lack of sun, but he’s never felt a cold summer night.

GymRat!Miguel who sighs as his dad argues with the staff over a suitcase that Miguel knew would be too heavy. He’s not even sure what his dad has in there.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks that TSA is having a field day despite his family being one of the few coming in at this hour.

The man in front of him was taking way too long to pat him down and he got the hint was Miguel scowled at him.

GymRat!Miguel who had about four hours to kill before the plane came, so he decided to walk around the airport with Gabriel and pretend like they were a spoiled set of twins shopping casually in France.

“What do you think about this, Mimi? A little chic, no?” Gabriel held up a Gucci scarf to his green hoodie.

Miguel stuck his nose up, “No, Bribri, it’s so yesterday.”

“Ugh,” Gabriel put the scarf back like it was on fire, “You’re so right. Thank god you’re here or I’d be so lost!”

GymRat!Miguel who feels like he’s back at home with Gabriel as they try their best to avoid the luxury brand store staff. Every time one would get close, they would giggle and rush out of the store.

GymRat!Miguel and Gabriel who crash back at their terminal with enough food to feed a family of five.

“What is all of this?” Conchata asks as Miguel hands her a coffee, a frustrated look on her face.

“Ma, it’s almost the crack of dawn and we’re hungry. Big boys gotta eat,” Gabriel said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

George reached in one of the bags and grabbed a sausage sandwich, “He’s right, Conchata. We can’t survive on two bites.”

Conchata eyed her three boys with her arms crossed, “All of it better be finished and I don’t want to hear one complaint about your stomachs.”

Miguel just snickered. It’s not like she bought the food anyway.

GymRat!Miguel who is watching an older couple meditate at his terminal as the sun begins to rise.

“Yo,” Gabriel says. “That looks relaxing as hell. I’ma join them.”

GymRat!Miguel who is wheezing as he watches Gabriel plant himself between them to spread his arms and breathe at deep paces.

GymRat!Miguel who is thankful that his parents bought better-than-Economy seats, but that still didn’t stop any of the O’Hara boys from feeling like they were in one of those miniature museums.

Both his dad and Gabriel were already tall, but Miguel was more than tall with a heavier body to match. If another compartment almost smacks him in the face, he might lose it.

GymRat!Miguel who takes off his headphones when Gabriel grips his arm.

“The voices,” Gabriel whispers. “The voices are here.”

“Are we doing this the whole flight?”

“Miguel, what if they tell me to do something drastic?”

Miguel looked to the window next to Gabriel and then up to the ceiling, “Three hours.”

“Three hours in which my brain could be infiltrated!”

“I’m closing my eyes, Gabri.”

“But-”

“Closing!”

GymRat!Miguel who used the flight to catch up on sleep and listen to the playlist you made for him. You gifted it to him earlier this month and said it would grow more and more. Miguel loved it because it showed that you were thinking about him, daydreaming about him. It also meant that he could connect to you more.

No sound of crying babies, no smell of the artificial air packed tight, no light from overhead, just you and him in his mind, dancing on clouds.

His heart felt like it followed the tempo of each song that played, the words and melodies taking over his mind.

GymRat!Miguel whose mind wanders by the time the second half of the playlist starts. It was sensual and intimate in a way that passed the sticky sweetness of the first half.

He was thinking about the nights when it was just the two of you and a bed. He could feel your body tangled with his in the sheets and your eyes piercing his skin. He could see you in front of him as the music played, the words glowing on your skin and the harmonies bounding you to him.

GymRat!Miguel who is yanked out of his fantasy of him pressing you up against a wall when his body jerks from the turbulence.

He opens his eyes to see Gabriel knocked out and not a clue in the world.

GymRat!Miguel who is always reminded how idiotic people can be at the airport.

Standing in the aisles is not going to make the people in the front move any faster.

GymRat!Miguel who could finally stretch his legs once he exits the terminal.

“If I get on another plane where a kids stares back at me the entire flight again, I’m going to spin my head like an owl,” Gabriel mumbles as he cracks his neck.

GymRat!Miguel who has a time laughing at his dad slowly losing his mind.

First, he complained because his fabric luggage was lopsided and twisted from its buckled components, extra bag barely hanging on.

Second, a wheel on his luggage was a few more spins from giving out. Every time the bag would skirt across the shining floors of the airport, George would grunt in frustration and yank it back. Gabriel almost pissed himself leaning onto Miguel from laughing.

Third, the ride to the hotel almost gave him a heart attack. The cabs in New York were fast and no-nonsense when it came to getting people to their destinations. The cab drivers were also known to bob and weave into lanes like it was nothing. At every switch of a lane, George was mumbling prayers into the air.

Conchata kept a hand on his shoulder as best as she could from the middle back seat, but George’s grip on the handle was turning white as he tried his best not to yell into the driver’s ear. Gabriel was filming him from the left side, wheezing like it was the funniest thing in the world.

GymRat!Miguel who dropped his stuff off, took a nap, and used the rest of the afternoon to walk around Times Square.

“You refused to go to a Broadway show with me but mark my words, you’re going to one with me before the year is over,” Gabriel pointed his finger at Miguel.

“Unfortunately.”

GymRat!Miguel who watches as Gabriel dance battles with the random people in costumes in Times Square when they try to heckle him.

At first, Miguel was worried for him trying to navigate such a bustling place, but there are moments like this that show him that his little brother has always been quick on his feet. His little brother was light years ahead of him in so many aspects and he couldn’t be prouder.

GymRat!Miguel who probably filled his phone with more pictures and videos of Gabriel experiencing New York for the first time than were necessary.

He couldn’t help it. His baby brother was soaring.

GymRat!Miguel who sends you places that he wants to visit with you.

Envisioning you in his hoodie or with a fluffy, long scarf and walking down the sidewalk hand-in-hand with you had him excited to see you again. You would shine so brightly under the Christmas lights.

GymRat!Miguel who didn’t get back to the hotel with Gabriel until the evening. His parents both snoring in the room across the hall.

GymRat!Miguel who still manages to get up early enough to hit the hotel gym before he and his family go tackle Gabriel’s dorm room.

GymRat!Miguel who feels like the only other lady in the gym is trying her best to follow everything that he does.

So much room in the tiny cube of a gym that they’re in and she moves to wherever he is after five minutes.

GymRat!Miguel who is annoyed when she taps him in the middle of his set. He removes one ear of his headphones and tries his best to stop the disgusted look on his face from forming.

“Hey! Sorry, I was wondering if I could use this machine! I’m kind of in a hurry.”

“After I finish this set,” she jerks back at that. “I’m using it right now.”

“Well, I just thought that-”

“Ma’am.”

“I’m 22! Don’t call me ma’am.”

Miguel’s eyebrows went up. He could hear Gabriel in the center of his mind calling her a “hard 22,” so he just put his headphones back on and continued to work through his set.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks that interaction ruined the girl’s mood but he really didn’t have the energy to be concerned.

He had to freshen up for breakfast.

GymRat!Miguel who feels absolutely cramped when he steps into Gabriel’s dorm.

“It’s not bad!” Conchata rubs Gabriel’s back as he looks around with his mouth in the shape of a line. “Once we clean it and set up your things, it’ll be just like home.”

Gabriel puts his hands on his hips, “Home doesn’t look like cell block 1.”

“At least the window overlooks the city,” Miguel says.

The door behind them opens with George poking head inside.

“Mijo, we need to set some ground rules. Your suitemates have no idea how to organize.”

“Did you go in their rooms?” Gabriel asked in disbelief.

“It’s not my fault they left the door open!” George puts his hands up.

GymRat!Miguel who works harder than he did for his own dorm. Every piece of clothing was in its rightful place, every surface was sparkling clean, the bed was made with minimal pillows and a giant RJ churro plushie, and there was an odd-shaped humidifier plugged up on his desk.

“I’m putting your cleaning supplies in the corner of your closet, so this room should stay clean,” Miguel grumbled as he stuck a mini vacuum against the wall.

“Whatever, mom,” Gabriel replied.

“Gabriel,” Conchata had a hand on her hip and a finger pointed at her son. “Don’t whatever him. He’s right. There’s no excuse for this room to be a mess.”

Miguel and Gabriel stood in shock at Conchata’s quick defense.

“Are we in the twilight zone?” Gabriel asks out the side of his mouth.

“Maybe it’s the air pressure,” Miguel whispers back.

GymRat!Miguel who equates Conchata’s growing softness to the fact that not one, but two of her boys will be leaving the nest.

The sentiment is sweet, but by the fourth time she just lets him and Gabriel roam the busy streets, he’s internally freaking out.

It was far different from the woman who pinched their ears when they tried to sneak sweets into the shopping carts or the woman who had her shoe locked and loaded for when one of them did anything to annoy her.

GymRat!Miguel who stays up late to talk all night with Gabriel about anything and everything.

“Which one of these do you think is better?”

Gabriel reaced into his backpack to unfold two flags, one with Jungkook over the Mexican flag and a Weenie Hut Jr. sign.

“Well, I definitely feel like there’s a clear answer.”

“You’re so right,” Gabriel says and folds up the Spongebob sign. “It’s better to represent.”

Miguel only sighed, “If that’s what you insist, Gabri.”

GymRat!Miguel who hugs Gabriel tight as their parents pack the cab back to the airport.

They’ve dropped Gabriel back at his school and said their goodbyes all morning. Miguel feels like he’s fading away. He bites his lips in order not to cry, but it’s hard when Gabriel's hands grip his hoodie like a lifeline.

“Knock em’ dead, baby bro.”

Gabriel leans back with a wet laugh, “They won’t see me coming.”

GymRat!Miguel who waves out the window as the cab drives off. Gabriel waves back with both hands and a smile on his face.

Miguel keeps looking back and Gabriel is still standing there. He wants to tell the cab to turn around.

After the fourth look, Gabriel is no longer looking at the direction the cab went but to a girl who also seems to have said goodbye to her family. He’s talking animatedly, arms moving as fast as the words fly out of his mouth.

Miguel turns back around and pulls the strings on his hoodie hard, eyes welling up with tears.

“Ay, pobrecito,” Conchata pulls Miguel into her arms, kissing the top of his covered head. “I know, it’s ok.”

Miguel’s lungs take in chopped breaths, hands never moving from the strings. He doesn’t know how to stop the tears from falling.

“George, you too?”

To Conchata’s other side, George was looking out of the window, sniffling with a fist covering his mouth.

“It feels like just yesterday I was teaching him how to kick a ball!”

Miguel blew out some air, “That probably was yesterday. He sucks at soccer. And football. And kickball.”

“How did he ever make the basketball team?” George says, voice riddled with sorrow.

“His height, pa,” Miguel’s throat was tight again. “I didn’t call him beanstalk for nothing.”

The two of them lean onto Conchata, snot and tears crowding their faces.

“Lose one baby and I gain two more,” Conchata sighed as she rubbed their backs, barely space in the little cab.

GymRat!Miguel whose eyes remained puffy and swollen the whole trip back home.

GymRat!Miguel who had to go back to school as soon as possible.

He loved his parents, but being in the house without Gabriel took a lot more patience than he was willing to give.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t see you coming while he's looking for you around the Student Center.

The campus feels a little different since he’s become more familiar with it. Now he’s got shortcuts and pathways down. He knows more places to hide away in and he carries more tips to survive than he did his freshman year.

A tap on his shoulder has him turning around. He spins, looks down, and his mood immediately lifts.

You’re standing there with a pretty smile on your face in the midst of the bustling crowd. Miguel bends down to pick you up, arms wrapping around your thighs, mindful of your skirt. You laugh his name out as you cling to his shoulders.

He kisses your lips, mouth warm and cozy like the sun shining through the window in a cool room.

“I missed you so much,” he breathes after two heavy pecks. He moved to the corner of your mouth to your nose to your cheek. “‘M happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you, too,” you run a hand through his hair and cradle his face, looking into his eyes. “Are you alright?”

Miguel puts you down, knowing your limit for periodic PDA was nearing its end.

��Better with you here.”

“Really?” You lean into his chin on his chest with hearts in your eyes.

“Absolutely,” he plants his arms around you. “Been replaying your playlist for me. You want me to be your good boy?”

Your eyes get wider and you bury your face in his chest.

“Why are you hiding? You should have known I was going to ask about it,” Miguel chuckles as you groan.

“You’re using it against me.”

“No, I just want to confirm!”

The irritated face you gave him was too much, he had to tease you more.

“Just say the word.”

“Hmph,” you lean back as Miguel grins. “Well, be a good boy and help me find our friends.”

Miguel let you pull him, smile loopy, “Whatever you say, baby.”

GymRat!Miguel who is glad to see his friends again. Peter, MJ, Jess, and Ben are sitting at one of the high tables and they all greet you both with smiles.

“The lovebirds are here!” Peter reached to shake Miguel by the shoulders. “Good to see you both alive.”

“Never better,” Miguel replied, holding the seat out for you to sit on.

“Look at him,” Jess snickered. “His eyes are practically shaped like hearts.”

“It’s ok to look away from her Miguel,” Ben said. “She’s not going to disappear.”

“C’mon guys, leave them alone. Haven’t you ever had someone you’re head over heels about?” MJ asks.

“No,” Ben and Jess say in a monotone voice.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone someday,” Peter quips as he wraps his arm around MJ. “Someone to stare at like they’re the only ones at the table.”

Everyone looked at Miguel talking to you as you tapped on your phone. He would whisper something in your ear and you would push him back with a shy laugh. His hands rubbed on your shoulders and your thighs.

“Movie night might be insufferable,” Ben sighed.

Jess leaned back, “A girlfriend or boyfriend would suffice. I’m not picky!”

“I am,” Ben says with raised eyebrows. “I need someone to acknowledge my beauty.”

GymRat!Miguel who does in fact become insufferable during movie night.

Flashing bright colors are painting the white dorm walls, lighting up the room, and the two of you are cuddled together on his bed. It’s way too cramped and Miguel could barely fit on the thing by himself, but somehow, he has you laid in his arms, a blanket covering you both.

He’s not even sure what movie is playing on the projector because his mind is too focused on you. His hands keep wandering your body under the thick blue fluff. He’s watching you body jump and listening to your breath hitch as he kneads your thighs, your sides, your stomach, your chest.

He really did miss you and he wanted to take this time to become acquainted with your body again.

But you would kill him if he let his thoughts take over and sink his hands under your clothes.

So he settled with touching you and kissing your neck occasionally, your mind to preoccupied with the movie before you.

GymRat!Miguel who insists on a snack run and makes you tag along.

Does he want snacks? Not really.

Does he use it as an opportunity to make out with you on the outside of his car? Absolutely.

“Mig, mm-” you melt into him as he pries your mouth open. “I thought you said you wanted milkshakes.”

Miguel cages you against the car, pans down to your chest, then back up to your eyes, “My milkshake is right here, though.”

You scoff, hit his chest, and push his arms to walk around to the passenger seat.

GymRat!Miguel who has milkshakes ready for everyone on their way out to their own dorms. He spent way too long playing with you in the privacy of his car.

GymRat!Miguel who by his second day of classes thinks he has the ideal fall semester schedule planned.

He’s still blocking things out on his calendar, but his classes are a bit more spread out this time, which means more time to be with you.

With your stacked studio classes, he was going to take every opportunity he could to see you.

GymRat!Miguel who wanted to take up a basic game programming class as an elective. What better way to nerd out than to get insight on how his favorite games worked?

Learning C++ and Python, breaking down the technical side of things, making his own small games through engines; Miguel was beyond excited, to say the least.

He walked into the empty lab, scoping the classroom out for the best seat. The perks of being early.

GymRat!Miguel who is scrolling through his watch later list while he waits for class to start. Maybe he could finally watch the Let’s Plays he’s been piling up. Maybe character builds would be better.

“Hare-Hare, is that you?”

Miguel stopped, that nickname something he hadn’t heard in forever.

He turned to his right with a smile on his face, “Xina?”

“It is you!”

Miguel stood to hug her, his body rocking from the weight of her, almost knocking him over.

“It’s been so long,” she breathes out. Her hands slide down his arms. “Have you gotten even bigger?”

Miguel laughed, “Probably.”

Xina’s eyes flitted over his body and back to his face.

Miguel sat back down, “You look different, too. Is that a tattoo?”

“Y-yeah! You like it?”

It was some computer code in a spiral shape on her arm. It was really different for her. A far cry from the conservative, shy girl who left the South.

In fact, the outfit she had on was something she would never wear. It looked like something that Lyla or Tempest would throw on. No collared dresses or long socks over stockings, just low-cut skirts and flowy-sleeved tops.

“It’s pretty cool. Do your parents know you have it?”

She shuffled the sleeves of her shirt back down, “They weren’t too fond of it, but what can they do now.”

Miguel smiled softly, “Lyla told me you were coming down here. I guess I just didn’t believe it until I saw you. How have you been?”

“I’ve been pretty good. Just trying to readjust. It’s a lot different here.”

Miguel raised his eyebrow, “From China or from up north?”

“Um, from up north. It’s a lot slower.”

“Really?” Miguel watched as she picked at the mountain of bracelets on her arm. “Hopefully not too much slower. I want you to enjoy your time here.”

More people started to fill up the lab, dropping their backpacks and pecking on their phones.

Miguel rolled his chair closer to Xina, “What happened up there? Is everything ok?”

Her eyes shifted nervously, voice tight, “Lyla didn’t already tell you?”

“She can say a lot of things, but I’d rather hear it from you.”

Her shoulders dropped and whatever thoughts that were clouding her mind disappeared.

“I’ll-” the professor heads to the front of the class. “I’ll tell you one day.”

Miguel nods, dropping the subject.

GymRat!Miguel who is really excited about the future of the class after the first initial day.

The professor seemed to have a lot of knowledge involving the industry, and even if Miguel couldn’t see himself really tapping into the industry, he enjoyed the banter.

“Class seems like it’s going to be fun,” Xina says as she walks next to him, bag patting against her hip.

“That’s a sentence I’ve heard no one ever say.”

“Oh, shut up,” Xina pushes his shoulder and Miguel fakes being knocked over. “This is coming from the man who got excited about encyclopedias being available for checkout.”

“There was good stuff in there! Not my fault that others didn’t catch on.”

GymRat!Miguel who chats with Xina like old times.

She looked different, but the core of her was still there. Still the sweet, reserved girl that he remembers.

“Ah,” Xina looks down at her phone. “I gotta go. Me and my roommates are having a house meeting.”

“You got a quad suite?”

“An apartment! You should come over sometime. We’re going to have a little housewarming party soon.”

“Cool, I’ll be there. See you Thursday?”

Xina grinned wide, hands folding together in front of her, “See you Thursday.”

GymRat!Miguel whose time with you during the day was limited to lunch time. Your studios were stacked along with some general ed classes and he hated it.

“Miguel, stop pouting, I’m here now!”

“That’s until you have to go mix your paints with others and cut floorboards.”

“I’m not mixing paint with others,” you reach to wipe some salad dressing off of his lip. “I’m mixing paints with other paints. And mineral spirits. And turpenoid.”

Miguel slumped down his chair, petulant.

“Why can’t I just sit next to you and encourage you?” Call you pretty, stare at you, hold you.

“Because it’s a college course just like any other class. I just can’t just walk into your labs unannounced.”

“If it were one of my lectures, you probably could.”

You left out a soft breath through your nose, “True. Too bad my classes are three hours long, babe.”

Miguel groaned, “I should have switched my bio class to yours.”

“So you and I both could be distracted all day? Not a chance.”

“No,” Miguel held out the vowel. “I wouldn’t get distracted, I swear! We’d sit at the front of the class to ensure it.”

“And somehow, you’d still find a way to distract yourself.”

Miguel puffed and folded his arms.

“How so?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you shake your cup, seeing if you had any drink left. “Writing me messages on your notes app, spamming emojis, sending naughty pictures in the middle of class.”

“That was one time.”

“One time that my professor almost saw the hairs leading to your-”

“So what you're saying is, you don’t want my chest in your phone?”

“No! I never said that!”

Miguel smirks and you fall back into your chair with your heart pounding.

“You’re so mean, I’m going to class early.”

“Baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Miguel held your hand to stop you from leaving the table, pulling you to his side.

“Let go, I’m going to class.”

“Let me walk you there at least?”

Miguel wrapped his arms around you and moved his head wherever your gaze went.

“Fine, hurry up.”

GymRat!Miguel who finished his lunch in two bites and reached for your portfolio.

GymRat!Miguel whose heart swelled as you swung his hand on the walk to class.

“I think we can still make more time for just us. There’s the weekends, your birthday, fall break, winter break, our anniversary,” you sang as you looked up at him.

“You excited?”

“To spend time with you? Always.”

Miguel felt his cheeks warm at the simple statement.

“Are you?”

“If I’m not excited to be with you, you’ll know I’m being kidnapped.”

“Stop,” you giggle.

“It’s true!”

GymRat!Miguel who lingers in the art building while you wait for class to start.

“Is there anything in particular that you wanted to do for our anniversary?”

You fan your eyes up, “Hm. I’m not picky. As long as it’s close to school. We can save the bigger trips for the future or holidays.”

So no sporadic trips across the country. He can check that off his list.

“Your face is telling me that you were thinking of something else.”

“No…”

GymRat!Miguel who after two weeks of class could definitely say that his elective was taking more brain power than his science classes combined.

It was fun, but god, he didn’t understand the point of his professor insisting that they learn C#.

“This is so stupid,” Miguel grumbled after the third failed attempt to get his program to run. “I think I’m in hell.”

“With me here? No way,” Xina snickered beside him.

“Yeah, you’re right. Still doesn’t change the fact that this is a program that is completely useless to not only me but the rest of this course.”

“It literally can’t be that bad”

“Look!”

Miguel showed Xina his code and the lack of progress that it seems like he made.

“That’s ‘cause your lines are wrong, silly.”

She leaned over him, tapping at his computer. Miguel noticed that her tattoo was on display today despite the cool chills coming in as fall approached.

“There. That should fix it.”

Miguel ran his program again and was filled with relief when it actually did what it was supposed to do.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime,” she beamed and fanned absentmindedly. “I’m always here to help. I definitely need your guidance for quantum physics.”

“What do you need that class for?”

“My advisor suggested it, but I’m starting to regret it and I can’t afford to drop it.”

“Tell you what, you help me with coding and I’ll help you with physics. Fair trade?”

“Plenty equal to me.”

GymRat!Miguel who smells Xina’s perfume as she helps him for the third time that class.

It’s sweet and earthy. It reminds him of the time you fed him ice cream on a campus bench not too long ago.

“What is that? It smells good.”

“Really?” Xina looks over to Miguel with a smile. She leans back and twirls the black strands of her hair. “You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

“Thank you.”

GymRat!Miguel who gets invited to Xina’s apartment-warming party.

“It’s pretty small, and I’ve only made a few friends here so far, but I would love for you to come.”

“For sure, for sure. Should I bring something?”

“No, just you and your body will suffice.”

GymRat!Miguel who laughs with Xina as they exit the class.

“I’m just saying that if you have time to make merch for your games immediately after the first patch of it does numbers, then you have enough time to improve it and make other parts faster.”

“Game developers have families to feed, ya know?” Xina states. “They can’t just sit at a screen all day, they need quick money like the rest of us.”

“So you sell plushies instead? Whatever happened to ‘hi, hello’ or ‘this is how progress is going this month.’”

“Miguel!”

He turned to where he heard his name, that voice like music to his ears.

“Bebé!”

GymRat!Miguel who runs to you and spins you around like he hasn’t seen you in years. You squeal into his neck, excited because he’s so excited.

He puts you down and stands in shock, checking his watch, “I thought you had studio right now?”

“Critique ended super early, so I wanted to surprise you!”

“So the rest of your day is free?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Miguel would punch the air with glee if he wasn’t in public.

GymRat!Miguel who turns when you peek your head past him to see Xina standing with a small smile on her face.

He slots his hand into yours and pulls you over.

“Xina, meet my girlfriend. Bebé, meet Xina.”

You reach your right hand out, introducing yourself. Xina takes your hand with a grip like a blood pressure machine and a quick introduction.

When you take your hand back, your eyes do a double take between the two, Miguel oblivious to what just took place.

You clear your throat, “Do you guys take the same class?”

“Yep, we-”

“We go way, way back,” Xina grins. “Like trading silly bandz and Pokemon cards back.”

“Oh shit, really? So you saw Miguel in his baby days. What was he like?”

“Please don’t say anything embarrassing,” Miguel groans out.

“Yeah, tell me something good. Something juicy.”

“Hm,” Xina tapped her chin.

Miguel shook his head behind you, hands clasping together in a pleading motion.

“Miguel had a crush on me.”

That’s not what he expected Xina to say and from the raised eyebrows on your face, neither did you.

“That’s,” you rock on your feet and adjust your backpack, “definitely something.”

“Yeah! He was so cute running around handing me flowers with the roots still attached. I was too busy trying to be the best ballerina around, though. Right, Hare-Hare?”

“Right,” Miguel looked to the door. “Uh, we’ll see you around Xina.”

“Yeah, see you soon,” her fingers twinkled, chains on her nails dangling.

GymRat!Miguel who kept waiting for you to say something as you both walked to his car.

He was excited to eat dinner with you for once, but your silence was scaring him.

“What’s wrong?” He breaks, sick of his aimless thoughts.

“I don’t know, Hare-Hare, you tell me.”

“Amor, don’t be upset. It was such a long time ago.”

“That’s fine, I don’t care about that. Why would she bring it up in the first place? I don’t even know her like that.”

“I think she was just nervous, she’s not usually like that.”

“Compared to…?”

“Compared to the kind person I know her to be. Look,” Miguel reached for your hand, voice steady. “I’m sure she’ll open up to you as I’m sure you will to her, ok?”

You blew out a deep breath, “Ok.”

“Trust me?”

“I trust you.”

“Good,” he pecked your lips. “Now let’s go get pizza. I’m starving.”

GymRat!Miguel who still brought a gift to the apartment warming. It felt rude to not show up with something.

You had recommended a candle, so Miguel went and got something that smelled similar to Xina’s perfume plus a candle warmer in the shape of a flower.

He knocked on the door, a gift bag in his hand.

After a few seconds, it swung open with a guy who he didn’t have to bend down to look at.

“Woah,” he said. “You’re huge.”

“Uh, thanks? Is Xina here?”

The guy was brushed to the side to reveal a frazzled Xina.

“H-hey, Miguel! You came!” Xina clung to him, fingers clammy and breath burning through his shirt.

“Yeah, of course. Was this the wrong day?”

“No! No, no. You’re right, come on in.”

GymRat!Miguel who felt that the apartment was really nice and Xina’s roommates were a rambunctious bunch.

Although, he expected the event to be a bit more relaxed. There were people crowded together in the living room, some screaming at a game on the TV, some making their mark on the couch, others dancing out on the balcony.

Miguel was anxious to say the least.

GymRat!Miguel who was pulled into Xina’s bedroom, the stench of that sticky, sweet perfume filling his nostrils.

“Sorry about that, I didn’t know it would get this wild.”

“It’s fine,” Miguel shuffles the bag into her hands. “I just wanted to give you this, then I’ll be on my way.”

“Aw, so soon?”

“Yeah, I’ve got some stuff to catch up on.”

He wanted to get out of here.

His eyes panned around her room, the style of it matching more to her past self. White lace, lilac and soft pink bows, tiny bunny and hamster families sitting on a shelf above her desk.

A poster from a franchise that she swore she hated but he loved. Funny.

Xina dug into the bag pulling out the candle warmer, “Miguel, this is so cu-ute! It’ll be perfect on my desk.”

“I thought you would like it.”

“You do know me very well,” she pulls out the candle and holds it to her nose for cartoonishly amount of time. “This smells fucking amazing. It’s like, like the inside of an ice cream bucket. But in a jar.”

“Xina,” Miguel sits the candle down before she moves the wicks up her nose. “Are you high?”

“Only a little…un poco,” she holds her fingers in a pinch.

He pushed her hand away from his face.

“They’re not making you take anything, right?” He pointed back to the door.

“No, I wanted it to. It’s nice. You should try it sometime. Relax a little.”

Miguel watched Xina’s eyes for a moment, searching for anything, something about how she really felt. For the moment, they were only cloudy and unphased. Miguel supposes that he should be like that too.

“Maybe another time. I think I’m gonna go.”

“If you must,” she pouted and hung on to his shoulder until they reached the door.

GymRat!Miguel who finally breathed easier once he was in his car.

He wondered what to get a person to help them come down from a high easier.

GymRat!Miguel who didn’t care what Lyla had to say, the arcade was a great idea for the 1st Anniversary date.

He had it all planned out: pick you up at your dorm door, drive you out, about an hour to the closest city, spend the rest of the night exploring the city, come back to the hotel, breakfast in bed, an afternoon at an art class because you wanted to see him paint, an evening at the arcade, and a night to complete out his Mission B: Virgin No More.

It was perfect. Immaculate. Sublime.

GymRat!Miguel who took the term passenger princess more seriously than he needed to.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?”

“Nope. Just sit there and look pretty.”

“I might fall asleep.”

“You’ll still be pretty either way.”

GymRat!Miguel who has the most fun going to random stores with you. Sure, there were some boutiques where the owners looked at you both like extra heads were sticking out of your necks, but there were also stores that were cozy and warm.

You both stayed in the nooks and crannies of stores looking at trinkets, jewelry, books, anything.

“Miguel, look!” you hold up the tiniest pair of baby shoes he’s ever seen. “How precious is that?”

“Put those down, I don’t need any new ideas.”

“You had old ones?”

GymRat!Miguel who buys a giant puzzle for you both to complete together. It’s a watercolor painting of the night sky and the bright day blending together.

It was the two of you together in one piece, he had to get it.

GymRat!Miguel who is giddy that you bought a set of matching silk pajamas for you both to wear.

He knew you were definitely going to get hot in them, but what are hotels for if not turning up the A/C and cuddling together under the thick, starchy comforters?

GymRat!Miguel who keeps staring at you through the mirror as you brush your teeth. There’s a fluffy headband keeping your hair out of your face, and you’re only wearing the top of your pajama set.

He’s no better, only rocking the pants.

“What?” you say with foamy toothpaste flooding your mouth.

“Nothing. You’re cute.”

You spit out the toothpaste, “You’re cute!”

GymRat!Miguel who holds you close as you take a bunch of mirror selfies before you both head to sleep.

GynRat!Miguel who knew this day was starting off right when you came out of the bathroom with your stomach showing. The shirt is like a blessing, mesmerizing in multiple areas, hugging your skin tight but loose enough for him to stick his hands under it.

“Amor, I don’t know if you know this, but,” Miguel pulls you in between his legs. “We’re supposed to actually make it out of the hotel room today.”

“And we will,” your eyes sparkled. “So until we get back, be good.”

Miguel groaned and peppered searing kisses across your skin, hands hot on the pocket of skin he could see, squeezing and gripping.

“Do I get a reward?”

You lean and whisper in his ear, breath tickling his skin, “A really, really hot one.”

Miguel's eyes are opened wider when you stand back, neck burning.

“You’re killing me.”

GymRat!Miguel who really sucks at painting.

“I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”

“Well, to start off, your brush isn’t even clean.”

You guide his hand to his water cup with a giggle, “None of your colors are going to show up if you keep dipping them willy-nilly.”

“Ok, but how come your hearts are so much better than mine? We both followed the teacher.”

Your eyes looked from your uniformed artwork, colors tangling together intricately and shapes flowy to Miguel’s canvas that had dripping paint, a bad mix of oversaturation, and wobbly shapes.

“You know, I’m not completely sure how you managed that, babe. What matters is that you did it with love,” you say noticing both of your initials in one of the best hearts on the page.

“Maybe you’ll be better at pottery? Mosaic?”

“I think you just enjoy laughing at my expense.”

GymRat!Miguel who rolled the sleeves of his sweater up when it was time to play arcade games.

He had to look good, show off, and earn prizes.

You watched with heavy eyes as he geared up to play the boxing game.

He made the boyfriend outfit look even more yummy, with his button-down peeking from under his blue sweater to match your outfit and his big jeans hugging his waist.

With a heavy swing, the machine seemed like it lifted off the ground with the force he gave it. His face was so serious as he waited for the score and you were inching closer to insanity.

The machine faltered, red dashes dancing across the screen.

“Did you break it?”

“Uh. I hope not.”

After what felt like a moment in which you both probably should have run away or called a worker, the machine blinks back to life.

“No way.”

A max score of 999 stared back at you both and the card machine lit up with rainbow colors.

You held his hand in yours, looking at his knuckles for any bruises or blemishes. When you stared up at Miguel incredulously, he had a goofy smile on his face.

GymRat!Miguel who may have been more competitive than he needed to be.

You yelled as his score kept inching away from yours on the basketball arcade game.

“You’re, like, as tall as the machine! You’re cheating!”

“It has nothing to do with height, chiquita.”

You groan out a sound of frustration as you miss your shots, messing up your streak.

The timer goes out, Miguel winning by a landslide.

You push your head back as Miguel celebrates.

GymRat!Miguel who keeps this song-and-dance up for the rest of the night. Sometimes you would win, sometimes he would win.

His final strike was when you both were in one of those FPS games that required you both to be crammed inside of a dark box.

“Miguel, stop taking my fucking shots!”

“Oo, she’s getting feisty with me now.”

You thought quickly and leaned over. With an eye on the screen and the intention to rile him up, you moan his name right in his ear, breath needy and warm. You lick at his jaw to seal the deal and turn back.

Like paper, Miguel folds, and his aim becomes absolutely terrible.

“W-why would you do that?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to feel that bad as “Player 1: Bunny WINS” and “Player 2: Bear LOSES” jumped across the screen.

You kiss Miguel on his cheek as he readjusts his pants with a frown on his face.

GymRat!Miguel who could hear his heartbeat in his ears on the elevator ride back up to the room.

You were holding onto the giant plushie he gave blood, sweat, and tears to earn, saying that it reminded you of him.

Miguel, on the other hand, was digging his nails into his palm and opening the collar of his sweater sporadically.

“You alright?” you say, placing a hand on his elbow.

“I might pass out.”

“Miguel,” you hold him close as you both walk to the door. “You gotta calm down.”

“I am! I’m just nervous.”

“You’re shaking.”

Miguel’s hands tremored as he ran the key card over the censor.

GymRat!Miguel who let you hold his hands as you kissed over his wrists.

He was so dear to you. His presence, like a beautiful spark.

“You’re so sweet.” A kiss to his palm. “The sweetest there is. I adore you.”

Miguel took a shuddered breath as he watched you, heart rushing to his ears.

GymRat!Miguel who is more calm when you both start to remove your clothes. It wasn’t steamy and desperate like he imagined. It was slow, intimate, and quiet.

It was like seeing you all over again for the first time when he helped you take off your shirt. It was like stepping into new territory when you held his jeans so he could step out of them. You both took turns taking off an article of clothing, savoring the moment.

Miguel fumbled a bit when he was met with you the clasps of your bra, fingers knocking against each other.

When the time comes, after what was an hour or so of touching, feeling, and existing within each other, your hands fumble with the condom.

Miguel feels out of his body as you slide it down with care, hands moving as if you were molding clay.

It wasn’t until he was on top of you that he felt that this was really happening. The foreplay between you a spot of comfort and habit.

After so long, he finally slid in deep, the pit of his stomach quivering. You were so unbearably tight.

“Y-you ok?” Miguel squeezed onto your hand, watching your eyebrows knit together.

“Yeah, it’s just,” you chuckle, breath almost gone from the feeling of him. “You’re really big.”

Miguel’s face shifted from worried to shocked.

“Oh! Well, I guess that’s a good thing?”

“You don’t have to guess, I can feel it.”

Miguel twitched and jolted involuntarily, causing you to whimper, your words going straight south.

“Miguel! Stop moving.”

“Sorry! You’re really tight right now and I’m trying to focus.”

“God,” you sigh and let your head drop to your pillow. “Are we even doing this right?”

“No clue.”

Miguel kissed your collarbone as you wrapped your arms under his. He continued to kiss across your shoulders, lips light and airy. Up your neck to your jaw, he could feel you relax and breathe a little easier.

He grazes his mouth to your cheeks, humming as you move them closer to his lips. He kisses your temple, your eyebrows, your forehead. At your nose, you start to giggle, Miguel’s kisses leaving flutters on your skin.

Miguel joins in on your joy, grinning as you try to return the pecks.

“Ok,” you whisper. “I think I’m ready. You can move now.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I want you to make me feel good. I want you to feel good.”

Miguel looked at your eyes, waiting, wanting, open. He couldn’t help but to think how lucky he was to have a girl like you who was just so beautiful and lovely.

His body is pressed against yours, the plush of your chest molding onto his. Your legs were wrapped around his thighs and your fingers danced across his back.

He takes a hand to hold the side of your face while the other one is pressing you even closer to him. He moves out as best as he can, the warmth of you an addicting feeling, and slides back in slowly, a shallow thrust to start off.

Your breath was hot against his mouth as you shuddered. Miguel groaned, feeling the heat of you through the thin condom.

He moved again, watching as your face twisted and turned. Your hands are pressed against his back, palms applying pressure until the feeling stretches to your fingertips. The pricks of your nails dig softly into Miguel’s skin, muscles moving as he tucks your hair away from your face.

By the third thrust, Miguel is moaning out, overwhelmed with you everywhere. When he breathes, you breathe. When he tightens his hand on your back, you tighten yours. When the feeling of you becomes too much to bear, you’re right there with him, eyes heavy and wet.

Everything was heightened, from the sound of the bed squeaking as Miguel’s hips moved, to the little sounds you made when he inched in deeper. He’s scared he might shout in your face due to how good you feel so he presses against your lips, grunts coming out with each thrust.

You take him with stride, hands balling up to fists as he gets deeper and deeper.

His name from your lips is broken down from two syllables to four, enunciation clear enough for Miguel to know that he’s doing something right.

“Don’t stop,” you plead, gaze reaching Miguel’s soul. “Please.”

“I won’t.” He would never leave if he had the choice. “Am I, shit, am I doing good? Do you feel alright?”

He shifts back to see your face and his heart speeds up watching you under him. Your arms fall to the bed and your mouth stutters open as Miguel continues.

Your eyes drip as you let out staccato moans and Miguel leans down to kiss away your tears.

“C’mon, bebé, let me know.”

You nod your head and cry out when Miguel goes even deeper. He hums against your mouth as a thank you.

“Miggy, I,” you stop as you take a breath.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

A rush of heat from top to bottom filled Miguel’s core. The air left his lungs swiftly and came back in twice as fast. His back shook, nerves like a spring. All he could hear was your breaths, all he could smell was your warm skin, all he could taste was the lingering touch of your tongue, all could feel was the hot valley of you, all he could see was you.

He dies and comes back to life, sight piecing together that the stars and hearts were not part of you but they were just his muddled brain taking you in like the first day he met you. His throat burns like he swallowed hot coal.

Your mouth is moving but he still can’t connect the words yet. He feels himself floating away.

“Baby?” the way that your hands grip his body ground him. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Miguel nods, eyes blinking fast. “What just happened.”

“I think you came?”

Miguel looked down, and sure enough, you were right.

He doesn’t remember you getting any relief.

“Can I-” he groans as you clamp down on him when tries to pull out. “Can we do that again?”

You nod your head, “Please.”

GymRat!Miguel who, after a brand new condom and a clearer mind, realizes that he has a lot of work to do.

He knew that you were his everything, but he couldn’t deny that he was a little embarrassed. You swore to him that it was ok, flattering even, but Miguel isn’t buying it.

Your legs were bent at his sides as he lifted your hips off the mattress. He held them up as he stroked deep and focused on the sound of your breaths.

“B-baby,” your voice is stunted as Miguel keeps a steady tempo. “Look at me”

Miguel groans into your neck, shuddering from the sound of your voice and your hands rubbing his sides. Your moans were high in your throat, breaking as Miguel’s hands pushed and pulled at your skin.

“I can’t.”

“Why,” your words fizzle as Miguel hits a sweet spot. “Why not?”

“If I look at you, I’m gonna cum.”

Miguel goes faster as he feels you constrict against him. The bed creaks as the sound of him delving into you gets louder and louder.

“Oh,” your nails scratch his back. Miguel matches your voice, desperate to please you.

You open your mouth again, a three-letter phrase ghosting your tongue.

“D-don’t,” Miguel’s hips freeze and unfreeze as he hears the first vowel leave your mouth.

“I wanna see you.”

Miguel shifts, eyes finding yours, and he knows he won’t make it.

He tells you just as much and you pull him closer.

“Te amo, mi luna.”

Miguel cries as he feels the air leaving him. He reaches down to touch you, your body jolting when his fingers graze your clit.

You cum around him and he pushed through, waiting until you were shaking to let go.

“You,” Miguel leans his forehead on yours. Both of you are shaking, blood pumping with adrenaline. “Play so unfair.”

“But you love me?”

He cuddles into your thumbs wiping at his eyes, “So much. I love you so, so much.”

You kiss him, feeling warm and satisfied, sighing as he melts on top of you. You run your fingers through his wild hair and scratch at his name.

After a while, Miguel perks up, eyes sparkly and big like a little puppy.

“A-again.”

“What?”

GymRat!Miguel who pulls you to the edge of the bed by your legs. You yelp at his strength and the icy pricks of the hotel A/C coating your overheating skin.

Miguel slides back in with a practiced ease, the angle different, but not unfamiliar.

He held your legs and hips from the bed, watching as your body moved from the faster momentum he produced.

Your voice reaches the ceiling as your hands grip for anything. Seeing your reaction, Miguel grips your hips and your stomach, angling even deeper. It was fulfilling until your hands landed on your chest, stopping them from jerking so.

Miguel pulled your wrists together and down, watching as your arms framed your chest. He moans out your name, eyes stuck on the picture presented before him.

How could anyone ever believe you were not beautiful?

GymRat!Miguel who can’t help but to ask for one more round. In your disheveled state, you tell him it’s the last one.

The sounds leaving your bodies were enough to make the bed blush. It was something so perfect about the whispers you mewled into each other's skin contrasting the wet sound of Miguel slapping into your wet entrance.

Somehow you were nearly bent in half, knees almost next to your ears, as Miguel’s feet were planted on the bed. You didn’t even know your body could do that.

At every smack of skin, Miguel was moaning your name louder and louder, mind completely gone.

“I’m, ngh, gonna cum!” Your voice comes out at a volume that matches his.

Miguel nods, encouraging you to release, kissing along your skin.

You shout as he swerves his hips, melting your cour as he slides along your sweet spots.

“So good,” Miguel says, balls twitching against you as crumbles to the bed. “So amazing. Mi luz, mi sol.”

The two of you catch your breath in the dim hotel lighting, jolting with aftershocks of your anniversary.

GymRat!Miguel who held you on his chest as you slept, lips pressed against the top of your head. He checked his phone before going to sleep, wanting to set a timer for the morning.

A Game Exchange’s Worst Nightmare

Miggy Mig MC: I did it

Winner-Winner: ???

Ly(ability)la: Only you would announce losing your virginity like that

Tempie: omg

You’re not a baby anymore 🥺

What am I gonna do

Winner-Winner: WAIT

LESGOOOO

Tempie: I never thought this day would come

Winner-Winner: you was tearing it up wasn’t you? 🤪

Ly(ability)la: you’re so annoying

Tempie: like I didn’t prepare fast enough

I WASNT READY

Winner-Winner: I hope you did that trick I taught you

It gets em every time

Guaranteed banger

Tempie: This actually ruined my night

Ly(ability)la: Temp is losing it and so is Wins

Congrats to you ig

Winner-Winner: I bet she’s KNOCKED OUUOOT

Ly(ability)la: is being normal like not in your cards or…

Tempie: I think I’m sick

Miggy Mig MC: .....

Gabri 🤏🏽🤡:

“I did it”

“No fucking way"

"NO FUCKING WAY"

"AND? AND SO?"

“It was just as good as you say. That’s all I’m saying.”

"I feel like I need to throw something on the grill"

“Not too much Gabri”

GymRat!Miguel who wrapped his arms around you as you fixed up something the next morning.

“G’morning,” you say to a heavy Miguel leaning down on you.

“Super good morning,” his hands reach to cup your left breast and your stomach under your robe. He left a long kiss on your shoulder. “Whatcha doing?”

“‘M getting your gift together.”

“Another one?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Well, let me step up my game.’

GymRat!Miguel who sits with you on the bed as you both trade gifts.

“Aw, Miguel! How am I supposed to eat these? You look so cute here,” you took a piece of candy in your hand and looked his face planted on it.

“Like this,” Miguel takes your hand and guides the candy to his mouth.

You smile watching him, body warm.

GymRat!Miguel who watches your eyes glow when you see the dolphin charm with the date that you two took our first date.

“Put it on me?”

Miguel slid the jewelry over your skin, watching as gold danced against your skin.

GymRat!Miguel who feels like crying when flipped through the scrapbook you made. Each section matched a song in the playlist you made for him.

It was so thoroughly crafted and thought out that Miguel couldn’t stop the waterworks.

“Why did I think that outfit was cool?” Miguel laughed wetly as he saw a picture of you both at a pumpkin patch.

“You look adorable,” you catch his tear on your thumb and hug his side.

GymRat!Miguel who drops you off at your dorm with kiss after kiss to your lips.

Jess opens the door with a dramatic sigh, “The two of you are glowing. How cute.”

GymRat!Miguel who reaches back to his night with you every time he’s sick of the class he’s in.

A little bit dangerous when it comes to his labs, but everything is reminding him of you. He can’t even look at his blanket without thinking about the way your shirt draped your body.

Maybe he should make love to you with it next time.

GymRat!Miguel who is in a daze during his programming lab.

“Earth to Miguel. Did you finish the mini code?”

“Uh, yeah,” Miguel replied to Xina.

“Good, because I need you to check this equation really quick. I need to turn it in later this week.”

Miguel leaned over to Xina’s laptop, arm reaching across her.

“So,” she slides her nails up his arm. “What do you think?”

“It’s fine. This part is very wrong, though.”

She squeezes at his muscle, chest pressing on him.

“Are you cold or something?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Because,” Miguel slides her laptop in front of him. “You’re really touchy today.”

“Miguel, I’m always touchy.”

She puts an arm on the back of her rolling chair and leans on her wrist.

“True.”

“Is there a problem with friendly touches?”

“No, Xina. I’m not like that.”

“Ok,” she holds her hands up in defense. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That,” Miguel says turning to her, “Being weird. Overstepping.”

Xina folds her arms and nods her head, “I got it.”

GymRat!Miguel whose time with you dwindles within the next couple of weeks. If it’s not studying, it’s the robotics team. If it’s not the robotics team, it’s his class schedule never matching yours. If it’s not your studios, it’s his study sessions with Xina.

Currently, she was sitting beside him on the first floor of the library, head on his shoulder as she sighed over a new formula.

“This is so gross,” she said, wiping away eraser shavings.

“Did you even try?”

“Like, once. That was enough.”

GymRat!Miguel who gets your text and looks up to where he knew you’d come from. He felt like he could feel you close, but the entrance was so far away he couldn’t see.

He got up for a second, turning and standing tall to catch a glimpse.

“I know you’re not about to give up this. You said it was easy! That’s not the Miguel I know,” Xina grabbed his wrist, hands unbearably hot.

His phone buzzed again. You said you were going back to your studio.

He sighed and sat back down, mind foggy.

divider by: @thecutestgrotto + @adornedwithlight 🩵

a/n: Y'all know that gif with the smoking duck? I feel like that but I would replace the cigarette with an Icee or something.

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gigabyte-flare · 1 year ago

Text

The Dark of You

(A Gigabyte Flare One Shot)

Summary: Leon S. Kennedy returns home to you from an assignment in San Francisco in desperate need to relieve some tension

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Death Island!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

CONTAINS DEATH ISLAND SPOILERS

Warnings: sex (p in v), age gap (reader is 26), very mild angst, choking, degradation, pet names, breeding kink

A/N: This is 5000% self indulgent. I cannot, for the life of me, get Death Island!Leon out of my head since watching the movie. The title is inspired by Dark of You by Breaking Benjamin

“Fade away to the wicked world we left,

And I become the dark of you.”

The anticipation is killing you. About an hour ago Leon had let you know he landed in D.C. and is on his way back home. He had been on an assignment in San Francisco, he didn’t say what for, he never disclosed any of his assignments to you. He insisted it was to protect you. You have been sitting on the couch, watching TV as you wait for Leon to come home but fatigue is starting to get the better of you, so you decide to turn off the TV and go to bed. A small inkling of guilt ate at you; you wanted to greet him when he got home.

Walking into the bedroom, you pull back the covers, slipping beneath them and getting yourself comfortable. You fall asleep within minutes; that’s not like you. Your constant worry for Leon clearly exhausted you. You’re suddenly awoken by the feeling of someone kissing the crook of your neck, an unshaven face scratching at yours. You recognize the cologne and his masculine scent immediately.

“Mmmm… there you are, Leon…” you say softly as you’re pulled from your slumber.

“I hit traffic on the way home, I hope I didn’t worry you,” Leon replies, his voice still muffled by your neck.

“When am I not worried about you?” you ask, turning your body to face him.

You immediately notice he looks ragged and exhausted, with dark bags under his ocean eyes and his hair slightly disheveled. He is still wearing his combat vest over his dark gray t-shirt and his blue leather jacket over that.

“You look like hell.”

“I feel like hell, I think my age is starting to catch up to me, love,” he says, bending down to kiss your forehead.

“Stop talking like you're 80, you’re only 38, you’re not old.” you tease, playfully punching one of his biceps.

For some reason, unknown to you, Leon was very self conscious about the age gap between you two. You can’t count how many times you reassured him that his age didn’t matter to you, that the 12 year gap between you didn’t bother you; you’ve been seeing him for almost a year.

“It’s not like you started dating me out of high school, you’re not a creep!” you recall telling him constantly.

He smirks at you, running a hand through your hair, “I’m going to hit the shower, I’ll be right out.”

You nod at him, watching as he goes into the adjacent bathroom, not bothering to shut the door behind him. You listen as he turns on the shower and you can hear the sound of his clothing hitting the floor. You let out a deep sigh of relief, grateful that he’s home and safe. Even though he didn’t talk about his work with you, you knew one thing for certain.

His job is dangerous.

You watch as Leon comes out of the bathroom, a pair of light gray sweats barely hanging onto his hips as he dries his hair with a towel, giving you a beautiful view of his ‘happy trail.’ Tossing the towel aside, he fixes his damp hair with his hands before climbing into bed with you, immediately wrapping you in his arms, nuzzling his face into your hair as he breathes deeply. You feel him kiss your hair over and over, like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“I’m so glad you’re home, Leon,” you tell him, snuggling into his embrace.

“Me too,” Leon replies, “I… I almost didn’t make it back…”

“What?” you look up at him, sitting up, your eyes full of concern.

You can tell by Leon’s pained expression that he was struggling on whether or not to tell you what happened. You watch him sigh and he clears his throat.

“I got infected with a virus--”

“What?! Do we need to get you to a hospital? I can take you!” You panic, throwing the blankets off you as you start to climb out of bed, but one of Leon’s strong hands grab your upper arm, stopping you.

“Babe, I’m fine… I got vaccinated, I’m not infected anymore. It’s… actually not the first time that’s happened.”

You tuck yourself back under the blankets, laying your head back down on the pillow as you continue to listen to Leon.

Leon lets out a soft chuckle, “if I had a nickel each time I’ve been infected with something… I’d have two nickels.”

You can’t help but laugh, even though hearing this from him made you worry more, but you don’t say anything and let him continue.

“I know that’s not a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.”

You shake your head, cupping his face in your hands and kiss him as you’re laughing.

“Unfortunately, there was one casualty,” he says, his lips still pressed against yours.

You pull back, raising an eyebrow at him.

“The bike got wrecked…”

“Oh sweetheart,” you coo, running your fingers through his hair, “I’m so sorry, I know you loved that bike.”

“It’s alright, if I had to choose between the bike and coming back home safely to you, I’d pick you. Every time.”

In an instant, one of his hands grasps the back of your head, pulling you to him to kiss you ravenously. His tongue makes its way into your mouth, dancing with yours as he lets out a low growl. He climbs on top of you, pinning you to the bed as his hands work to pull off your underwear, tossing them aside as he continues to kiss you vigorously.

Meanwhile, your hands are working to get his sweatpants off him, finally getting them pulled down when he kicks them off. His hands grasp at the front of your tank top, ripping it apart to expose your breasts. His hands grasp at them as you pull off the remnants of the tank top, tossing it aside off the side of the bed to join your underwear. Before you know it, he’s manhandling you, getting you on all fours on the bed, positioning himself behind you as he wraps his left arm around your neck as he uses the other to position his hard member against your thoroughly soaked cunt. He pulls back, choking you with his arm but not enough to outright strangle you; a favorite position of yours, admittedly. You love it when he’s rough with you.

“You want this old man’s cock, don’t you, pretty girl?” he growls in your ear, his hot breath on your ear sending chills down your spine, straight to your aching hole.

“Y-Yes!” you manage to reply, gasping for air as his arm gives your neck a nice squeeze.

“Of course you do, you dirty slut.”

You feel Leon bully his cock into your leaking entrance, your fingers curling and gripping the sheets as he begins to pound into you with vicious ferocity. His right hand grips your hip like a vice; that’s going to leave a bruise later. He lets out a half moan, half growl as you feel him adjust his position, getting on one knee to get a better angle to fuck into you as deep and as hard as he possibly could.

“F-Fuck! Too… too much!” you manage to say, his arm still squeezing your neck.

“You can take it, baby, I know you can,” he purrs, thrusting even harder into you, “gonna breed this pretty little kitty.”

His words make your clit throb and your walls tighten around his cock, causing you to cry out. With one of your hands, you reach between your legs, rubbing your aching clit with your index and middle finger, making your body tremble. Leon picks up on this immediately, chuckling in your ear.

“Oh? You like that? You want this old man’s cum? You want me to fuck a baby into you?”

Your cunt squeezes around him again as you nod, moaning as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. He leans over you, kissing the side of your neck before giving you several hickies as he pushes his hips deep inside you, the head of his dick kissing your cervix, filling you with a sense of euphoria, your arms reach up and gripping the arm still wrapped around your neck.

“Leon… I’m.. I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum…!”

“Good… such a good little slut you are,” he growls, giving you a playful bite on your earlobe.

After a few more powerful thrusts, he pushes himself as deep inside you as he possibly could go and you feel the burning warmth of his release as you come undone on him. Gasping, tears of relief stream down your face. Leon stays inside you for a few minutes as both of you catch your breath, having removed his arm from your neck. Eventually, he pulls himself out of you, hooking your waist with one of his arms and pulling you back so that he could cuddle with you. You give each other gentle, tired kisses until you both eventually fall asleep in each other's arms.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #di!leon kennedy #resident evil death island #death island spoilers #gigabyte writes

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obsessivevoidkitten · 1 year ago

Text

Your Boyfriend Owen

Yandere Male x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon/dubcon, stalking, drugging, kidnapping, chaining, general yandere behavior, social awkwardness, creepy staring, mild scent kink.) Word Count: 2.5k (This was supposed to be a small couple hundred word drabble... oopsiedoodles...)

It was the first day of your last year in college.

At the end of class there was a student lingering at his desk. He was your age and of average build, maybe a bit on the skinny side, with disheveled medium length black hair that was a bit wet with sweat and glasses that were a bit crooked.

He seemed really distraught and panicky as he typed on his laptop.

You introduced yourself and asked him if he needed help with something.

He went silent and awkwardly stared at you for a moment before speaking.

“Uh… hi, I’m Owen.”

He was obviously not used to people approaching and talking to him.

I-I don’t know how to get assignments and submit them on this updated online portal we have this year! I just cannot figure it out!”

You leaned over his desk and took a look at his laptop, you happily showed him how to navigate the new system. You didn’t blame Owen for being so high strung, the classes were tough and this new portal was pretty confusing.

What you didn’t realize was that in this simple act of helping him you had made the biggest mistake of your life.

Owen was stunned that you were helping him. You must have liked him! No one was this nice to a random stranger.

As you leaned over his desk to use his laptop he noticed you smelled so nice.

If he hadn’t already been sweating from his previous issues with the student portal you may have noticed the blush that crept across his face.

When you finished he thanked you nervously before you left for your dorm.

There was plenty of foot traffic to and from the dorms, classes, and the food places on campus. It was very easy for Owen to go unseen as he followed you to your dorm.

He… just wanted to make sure you got there safely. And also wanted to see where you lived.

Over the course of the next few weeks Owen you constantly caught Owen staring at you in class and he never failed to greet you when you sat down or try to talk to you when you left. You were always polite but… it was a little creepy to be honest, but you ignored it because it was pretty harmless. He just had a crush on you.

It was far from harmless though, during the time of day that you had classes and he didn’t he would sneak into your dorm and take little “treasures” that he was sure you wouldn’t miss.

A used pair of underwear that still had your scent from the day before. Maybe a shirt if it wasn’t one of your favorites, he knew which ones you wore most often.

As far as he was concerned he was your boyfriend, even if you didn’t know it yet, and good boyfriends noticed small details like favorite clothes.

He also took note of super important information like what food seemed to be your favorite, wherever you ate lunch he was sure to be in the crowd watching you.

Things probably would have continued on like that for a lot longer, just a creepy stalker pining for you, but then one day you helped someone else in class.

They didn’t deserve to even breathe the same air as you! He was fuming, he clenched his hands so hard that his nails bruised his palms. To grace such a nobody with your assistance drove him beyond jealousy.

But that did not even compare to when he saw you the next day eating lunch with the slime ball.

Why would you do that to him? Surely you liked him, not this piece of shit. He must have forced himself into your space and you were just too sweet to push him away.

Owen had to do something before things escalated too far. And he didn’t have to wait too much longer to have his opportunity.

There was a huge Halloween party coming up and he knew for a fact you would be going.

He went with a masquerade ball costume, complete with an intricately decorated Venetian mask.

When you were at the party he waited for the perfect moment to make his move. He stared at you the entire time, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment. Even if he hadn’t been planning something he wouldn’t have been able to take his eyes off you. You had decided to go as a pale faced vampire, it made him wonder what your teeth on his neck would feel like.

When you were all alone, and after your judgment was a bit off from a few drinks Owen came over and introduced himself and started chatting you up before offering you a drink.

He was a bit of an oddball, but he was always nice right? What was the harm?

You accepted the drink and soon everything was a blur. You weren’t rendered entirely unconscious, just helpless, compliant, and a touch clingy.

Owen escorted you out of the party with you leaning on him heavily, his face was red beneath his mask, his darling was relying on him for support! Just how it should always be~

Not many people at the party knew you, and even if they had they wouldn’t have thought much of you leaving in this manner, you just appeared to be a little drunk and leaving with someone who you trusted.

Owen stroked your cheek gently and guided you gently into the passenger seat of his car.

It was really happening, he was taking his love home.

He lived with his parents, in the large basement of their house. He was the true epitome of a basement dwelling freak.

You clung to him and nuzzled into his neck as he brought you inside. You didn’t know why, but you felt so needy.

He sat you down softly on the bed, he had changed the color of the sheets to match yours. He wanted you to feel at home and get adjusted to being here as quickly as possible and thought it may make the transition easier.

To that end he had also hung copies of the same posters you had hanging in your dorm, had the bookshelf filled with every book that he had ever seen you reading, and while everyone else was at the party he had even managed to snag a few things from your room.

Most notably your Nintendo switch and your blankets. They were drenched in your scent~

In your drugged state you couldn’t quite make sense of your surroundings… it looked kinda similar to your room… but not…

“Wh-wherrre aare w-w-weee?” You couldn’t speak without slurring your words.

“We’re home! Th-this is where you live now!

That didn’t seem right… did it? It felt a bit off… But why would this nice man lie to you? He gave you a drink and a ride… home.

“You’ll live here with me and I will take good care of you!”

“That’sss sooo n-nice of you”

Owen smiled, he knew you may feel differently once the drugs wore off, but he had taken precautions just in case. What mattered was that you were here, you weren’t leaving, and you’d eventually admit that you liked him and wanted to be here with him.

He sat down beside you on the bed and wiped the pale makeup from your face gently, you leaned into his touch with a cute sigh that made his heart swell and his cock twitch.

You were so perfect. Eventually you would be like this without the drugs, he just needed to be patient and train you until you saw that you needed him as much as he needed you. He had wanted to wait until that point to make love with you.

But… you were acting so sweet and needy. So malleable. And he could tell that you really needed it, your face was flushed and you kept grinding your crotch slowly against your arm that you had between your legs.

You stared up at him in confusion as he began to peel away his clothing, his cock bouncing free. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it. Then he carefully took off what you were wearing, slowly. He wanted to savor the moment. The person he loved more than anything else in the entire world was about to be revealed completely to him.

“So p-perfect~”

“Whaaaa are you doooinnng?” You looked up at him while not even noticing you were already grinding into your arm again.

He rubbed your thighs gently before replying.

“I’m g-going to help you with this,” he said as he caressed your crotch.

You blushed and smiled, in that moment all you could think that Owen was just so nice. He had already taken you home and now he was going to help you with your arousal too!

You spread your legs to allow for easier access as he fumbled with the lube.

He was considerably more nervous than before.

“I-it’s my first time, I hope I’m okay~ I-if I’m not we can pr-practice until I get it right!”

Owen applied the slick fluid liberally to his cock, where it mixed with the precum that his cock was practically drooling, then he scooted you to the edge of the bed and knelt between your legs, using his tongue to get you nice and stimulated.

The scent and flavor of you was almost enough to make Owen cum almost immediately, he was more drugged by your smell than you were on actual drugs. He moaned loud, taking it all in.

Before he caused either of you to orgasm before the main event he managed to pry himself away and apply lube to your entrance, sliding in a couple of fingers and twirling them around inside you.

You bucked and moaned, desperate to have more inside you as the lube mixed with all the saliva he had deposited inside you.

“Neeed morrrre,” You started crying a bit, you were just so desperate. You were like a bitch in heat and nothing would take care of it except Owen’s cock.”

“S-so needy! Don’t cry honey bun, I will take care of you!”

You tried to get your sobbing under control as he kissed you deeply.

“Gosh, y-you’re pretty even when you’re crying…

Then he stood beside the bed and propped your legs up on his shoulders. He rubbed the tip around your hole a bit, wanting to ingrain this moment into his memory for the rest of his life, before grabbing your hips and plunging his entire length inside of you in one movement.

The two of you gasped in unison, finally you felt that yearning void in you start to fill and he was inside of you.

It was much better than he had imagined in the fantasies he had so fervently jerked off to.

The heat, the tightness, your insides were enveloping his cock in pure bliss. And the smell of your sweat mingled with his and the scent of sex was just indescribable.

He slid in and out rhythmically, bending down and biting your neck as he did so. Claiming it as he sped up faster and faster.

Owen couldn’t help not lasting too long, and luckily for him you couldn’t either in your drugged state.

You cried out as you came hard, the force of your climax shaking through your body, pushing Owen over the edge. He filled you with plenty of cum before wrapping his arms around you lovingly.

“I love you so much!”

Your intoxicated mind felt the perfect response to this was, “I looo-love youuu toooo.”

When you woke up you were clothed and all cleaned up, and you could scarcely remember a single thing after the party. You had an awful headache and it took you a few moments to realize that this was certainly not your bedroom.

You felt someone spooning you from behind.

Owen. Owen was spooning you!

You must have gotten black out drunk and hooked up with him.

The thought made you feel sick to your stomach.

You immediately jumped out of bed and went to put your shoes on when you finally saw it.

A long thick chain that led to a shackle around your ankle.

You screamed.

Owen woke up instantly and tried to console you. He had been worried this may be your reaction.

“C-calm down honey b-bun. Just let me expla-”

“Don’t call me honey bun you sick freak!” You shouted the words with as much venom as you could muster, with tears threatening to roll down your face at any moment.

“HELP! HELP PLEASE!! SOMEON-”

Owen grabbed you from behind and put his hand over your mouth, using his other hand to hold you close to his shirtless form.

You still yelled, but it was pretty muffled. You could only hope someone had heard your initial outburst.

“Shh baby, calm down, it will be okay I promise~”

He kissed the top of your head and you tried to shake him off but you were still weak from last night, and he was stronger than you had anticipated. You finally went still and silently cried, your voice too strained now to say much of anything.

Then you heard footsteps coming from above you, they got louder as they approached. Did he have roommates? Had they heard your plea for help? You allowed a spark of hope to ignite inside of you.

You couldn’t see it, but Owen was blushing deeply.

“O-oh jeez, I didn’t want you to meet my parents y-yet. Not until you felt b-better.”

A man and a woman came down the steps. They both had features that reminded you of Owen.

The woman spoke while the man stood behind her, “Just what the HELL is going on at this early hour!? The sun is barely out and I have to work later tod-”

She met your eyes, only just now realizing that her son had someone in his arms. You could see her gaze follow the chain that bound your leg to the wall.

Seeing your tear streaked face, red and puffy from crying, shaking from fear, she gave a look of sympathy. Your hope grew. Would she help you escape her loony son? Your sore throat strained to form words, but they only came out muted and garbled through Owen’s hand.

“Owen! You didn’t tell us you were dating! Honestly, with how awkward you are, I was a bit afraid you’d never take a liking to someone.”

Then she looked at you again.

“You’ll be okay, I know it’s hard at first, but you’ll settle right in.”

“I-i made sure the shackle was lined with something s-soft so it doesn’t hurt them. J-just like you told me how you did when y-you started dating dad!”

You saw the man bite his lip and gaze down sheepishly.

Owen was in his mid 20s, if his age was any indication… if he was conceived when his parents first met… then you were going to be here for a very long time.

#yandere x reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere scenario #male yandere #yandere male x reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #My OCs #My OC Owen #yandere imagine

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cherriesformatt · 3 months ago

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alone || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: reader is exited to pickup matt from the airport after long time not seeing each other

warnings: fluff, maybe a little suggestive

word count: 1k

a/n: wow I had kind of a break but hi how r u guys a little something while I am trying to get back to writing

I was so exited that I did not even care how bad traffic at LAX was even at late evening. After two long weeks without seeing each other I was on my way to pick up Matt from the airport. I was happy he got to get away from LA life and spend his birthday with his family but now I literally couldn't wait any longer to see him. I parked my car in front of the right terminal and looked around trying to find him in the crowd. I texted him quickly where I was so he could spot me.

I smile as I see him walking in my direction and I open my trunk so he can throw his bag in there. I knew how much he hated airports so I wasn't even surprised by his annoyed expression. But as soon as he opened the passenger doors I was met with my favorite smile in the whole world.

"Hi.... I missed you so much" I smiled and leaned in to give him quick kiss but in the same time I heard beeping of a car behind us.

"Oh my fucking god... let's get out of here first baby" He said and patted my thigh gently.

I nod and started to drive while starting directions to his house on the car screen.

"I missed you to y/n... thank you for coming to pick me up" He said and he rested his palm on my leg and I smiled.

"Of course... I couldn't wait to see you. There is food on the back seat for you and this drink is for you as well I figured you will be hungry" I said looking at him for a second.

"I love you so much you do not even know" He groaned as he reached for the bag into the backseat.

"I know I know...." I laughed.

"How was the flight? Wait... is that like your first time flying by yourself?" I asked.

I was pretty sure it was actually the first time they all are in different part of the world.

"Actually yes and it wasn't bad I just really couldn't wait to see you. That was too long. I hate your job for not letting you to take time off. My mom was so sad you weren't there" He said and it made my face drop a little.

"I know... me too I am so sad I wasn't there for your birthday but at least you guys had a great trip and I am glad you had your birthday there" I said.

We talked while Matt ate his lunch and we were getting through the traffic. When I finally parked the car on his driveway I jumped out of the car and I walked around. The second he stepped out I wrapped my arms around him.

"Hello baby..." He kissed my head wrapping his arms around me as well and then he leaned in to properly kiss me. Finally.

I closed my eyes as I felt warm feeling in my body. I missed his touch and presence so much. I slipped my hand into his hair but there wasn't much to grip now since he cut them so much shorter now. I smile as we broke the kiss.

"Let's het inside..."He said and he kissed my head again before stepping away. I took trash from the car as he took his bag and we went in.

"You hear this?" He asked me and I frowned as we were met with quiet.

"Exactly... quiet.."He laughed.

I cant help but laugh as well. I do not think there was a time we were here alone for more than few hours.

"Did you clean up the house? Are you crazy woman?" He asked dropping his bag and looking around.

"I wanted the house to be nice when you come back and for us to spend time together not cleaning the mess you guys left" I said.

"You did not have to do that...Thank you you are the best" He said and hugged me again.

"I could just stay like this for the next week that we have there alone but I need to go take a shower" He said.

I looked at him and nod and he took his bag and went to his bedroom. I followed his figure and I sat on the bed as he opened his bag.

"You can go take a shower and I can unpack your bag... is it all clean?" I asked smiling.

"You do not have to do that..." he said looking at me.

"Matt... please just go take the shower so we can cuddle and I will do that it will take 5 minutes" I said.

"Okay, okay" He laughed.

"It is all clean" He added and he took his hoodie off and tossed it to the hamper.

As he went to take a shower I did put away his clothes and took the luggage to the closet downstairs and came back to his room.

I laid on my back scrolling on instagram when he came back to the room and fell on the bed next to me.

His hair was wet now and he was wearing pajama pans and cropped tee. The one that made me crazy every time. I was actually wearing my pajamas as well because I got ready for bed before picking him up. I was wearing pajama shorts and top.

"Oh you know what you're doing don't you?" I asked as I quickly straddle his lap. He smiled back at me and his hands traveled to my bare thighs sending shivers down my spine.

"Said you..." He poke my belly and I shook my head at him.

"You are insane actually I am not doing anything" I said.

"You do not have to do much baby..." He said and brought me down so he could kiss me.

"mmm...and you can be as loud as you can how cool is that" He said in between the kisses and it just made me even more exited.

Having Matt all to myself without anyone was going to be my favorite time we had together and I already knew that.

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo

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oracle-of-dream · 8 months ago

Text

Sweetness

Minors DNI

Summary: After being invited to hang out with your old friends, you try playing a game with hypnotism. But things didn't go as planned...

Warnings: Male Reader, Hypnosis, Blowjobs, OT7, Slight Dubcon, Making out, Handjob

Word count: 3.1k

The rain hit the window softly as you watched Tiktoks on your phone. There was traffic so the bus was behind schedule, and the rain wasn't helping. The window was cold, your coat was warm, and your head softly bumped against the window as the bus moved through the stop-n-go streets. The video you were watching was about a man pranking his girlfriend by hypnotizing her into doing his chores, and he showed you how to do the same.

"What a load of BS," You mumbled as you let your eyes slowly drift shut.

When you woke up, your phone flashed at 6:45 pm. You promised the boys you'd be at their dorm by 6 pm, but it was almost an hour past that! Luckily the rain seemed to have lightened up, so you dashed off the bus with your hood on toward the dorm. It was a three-minute walk, but you cut it down to 2 as you rushed around the street corners and j-walked.

You knocked on the door, following the secret pattern they'd taught you. The door unlocked and you pushed your way inside the warm apartment, letting the door shut behind you.

"Guys, I'm here!" You shouted out as you took off your shoes.

The sound of footsteps came toward you as you heard them talking to each other.

Shotaro's face was the first one you saw, but the others were right behind him. He pulled you in for a hug, "Hey man, how's it going?"

You held him tight, "It's good! The rain died down for a second so I got here without getting soaked.

"That's good because it's supposed to be a storm the rest of the night," Wonbin said as he ate some of his chips.

Everyone muttered in agreement about the storm until you'd finished taking off your shoes and hanging up your coat.

"So, ready to hang for the weekend?" You cheered.

The boys all shouted in agreement.

You'd known all of Riize from training with them. They'd managed to get into the debut group, but you didn't. Not hard feelings, they'd always call and share their experiences with you at every step to make sure you didn't miss out on anything. Since they had no schedules for the weekend, they invited you over to catch up and play around with them.

The group gathered in the living room; drinks, snacks, games, and movies were laid out for the group on the table.

"So, what's first?" Eunseok asked.

Everyone looked at you for an answer.

You sighed, "How are all of you so indecisive? Fine, I'll choose!" You sat for a minute, trying to think of something fun for everyone. Wonbin would leave if we put on a scary movie, Sungchan gets a little too competitive at games, and you were running out of stuff to talk about. But then you remembered the Tiktok from the bus.

"Hey, check this out," You pulled out your phone and showed the video to everyone. "Should we try this?"

Everyone shrugged or gave a silent nod.

"You don't believe that stuff works, do you?" Anton asked.

"Well, no... But it'll be fun to try anyway, right?"

You collected a few things around the apartment that you'd need. A cup of water, a clock, and you borrowed Sungchan's weights since you needed something heavy.

"Now we need a volunteer," You put your hand out, waiting for one of the boys to speak.

But no one looked like they wanted to be first. "

If I go first, then will someone go after me?" You begged.

They all agreed that you'd go first. Sungchan gave you the weight to hold in your lap "to ground your spirit", Anton had several watches so he picked one of his at random, and Eunseok got the glass of water.

"Okay, you need to pick a trigger word for my hypnosis to trigger, but I can't know it. So figure something out," You covered your ears as you let them discuss with each other.

Soon, Wonbin tapped your arm, letting you know they picked something.

"Alright, so now I need to close my eyes and focus on the sound of the watch. Anton, hold it to my ear. And someone else does the talking."

You closed your eyes and felt Anton put the watch near your ear. Each tick was soft, so you had to focus on it to hear it. Then you relaxed completely, focusing on the sound in your ear, the ticking echoed in your brain.

"Y/n, you're now falling under our spell. Let go and trust us," Wonbin said as he read from the script from the video. "We're now entering your mind, and you're under our control. When we say sweetness, you'll follow any orders you get. The word is sweetness. At the snap of my fingers, you'll wake up and forget about this."

There was a snap. The sound of the watch faded and you opened your eyes.

"Well, did it work?" You looked around.

Sungchan shrugged, "Let's find out." He knocked the cup of water over, spilling it onto the table. "Sweetness, could you clean that mess up?"

Without a word, you stood and cleaned the table with your shirt. Mostly pushing the water around until it was absorbed completely into your clothes. You sat back down, the members staring at you in shock, and you blinked.

"Well, did it work?" You looked around, confused by everyone's faces. You were also suddenly cold, and wet, "Hey, when the hell–"

Sungchan spoke first, "I don't think it worked. I told you not to move and I threw the water on you, and you just let it hit you. Were you faking?"

You shook your head, "You did? I don't remember that."

The others exchanged looks of surprise at their sudden revelation. You were hypnotized and didn't know it.

Seunghan leaned on the table, "Maybe we should try again?"

"On the next person, I already went," You whined.

"Sweetness, please, go get another glass of water?" Seunghan asked, holding the cup out to you.

Again, without a word, you took the cup and filled it with cold water before giving it back to him and sitting down in your spot.

"So... Which one of you is going next?" You asked, oblivious to Seunghan's devilish smile.

Seunghan yawned, "Actually, this is boring. Let's do something else, right everyone?" He looked at the group, hinting at what he wanted and they all nodded in agreement.

The group decided to move on from your hypnosis and play card games instead. Uno first.

You slapped a card down, "Uno! I'm gonna win~"

Sungchan's ears were red as he still had almost twenty cards, "Sweetness, switch with me."

You handed him your one card in exchange for his twenty. Everyone watched in awe as you did it without arguing or fussing.

When you came back, you realized your hand was heavier than a moment ago. "How the fuck!?"

Anton picked up two cards and handed them to you, "You called 'Uno' when you have too many cards, you have to pick up two more!"

"But I... I had only one card–" You scratched your head trying to remember getting to twenty.

Sungchan won the game in the next round, but everyone seemed happy he won.

Next was the scary movie, The Conjuring.

Wonbin barely made it through the first 20 minutes without crying. You were sitting next to him, trying to enjoy the movie but he kept kicking you when he was scared.

"Bin, stop! I can't enjoy the movie," You nagged.

"Sweetness? Can you hold my hand?" Wonbin asked.

You held his hand unconsciously and kept watching, only to realize you were holding it when he almost crushed it to pieces.

Seunghan looked over to you, "Sweetness, Wonbin looks scared, you should hold him!"

You crawled over to Wonbin and wrapped your arms around his waist. His face went pink as he looked you in the eyes, which were empty as if you were asleep. You shifted to where he was slotted in between your legs as he lay on the arm of the couch, being pulled into you.

"When the fuck did you get so close?" You whispered at Wonbin.

He was too embarrassed to answer, only shrugging as he tried to look at the screen.

You were already comfortable so you didn't bother pushing him off you, letting Bin get comfortable in your embrace.

Now it was Truth or Dare.

"That's lame, you guys always dare crazy stuff!" You complained.

"But you always pick the truth anyway," Sohee added.

You wanted to complain but he was right...

Shotaro whispered in your ear, "Sweetness, you should be risky. Only pick, dare, for the entire game."

You blinked as Shotaro went back to his seat, snickering to himself.

The group made Anton drink a hot sauce shot, Sungchan and Shotaro went to the bathroom together, and Wonbin dodged three challenges so he was three shots deep. Now it was your turn.

Anton asked, "Y/n, Truth or Dare?"

You opened your mouth, "Dare." You waited for your friends to boo you for picking the truth again, but then you realized what you'd said. "No, wait–"

"Too late! You said dare!" Shotaro cheered.

"I dare you, to kiss your favorite member," Anton blushed as he gave you his dare.

"No way! I'm not kissing any of you," You reached for the Soju bottle, but Eunseok stopped your hand.

"Sweetness, kiss a member, anyone," He muttered.

You leaned over to Sohee and kissed him on the lips, earning cheers from everyone as you realized what you'd done.

You recoiled and rubbed your lips, "I didn't mean to kiss you– Hee, I'm so sorry!"

Sohee's face was already red, "No no, it's okay! I'm glad to know I'm your favorite."

Wonbin started pouting, his face with a drunken glow. "I want a kiss too, y/n," He leaned toward you.

"Y-You've had too much to drink!" You pushed him back to his spot.

"Sweetness, kiss me, now!" Wonbin whined.

You crawled to him and kissed him.

"Sweetness, keep going! Kiss him more!" Someone else cheered.

You and Wonbin were making out in front of everyone. He tasted like yogurt soju and strawberry lip balm, and his hair tickled your face.

"Sweetness, me too!" Eunseok chirped.

Immediately dropping Wonbin, you climbed onto the couch. You straddled Eunseok and kissed him passionately, more than you had with Wonbin. Eunseok's eyes squeezed shut as he held your waist.

"Uh, guys, I don't know. This is getting a little much," Sungchan shifted in his seat. "Maybe we should stop."

"Or you're being no fun! Maybe you want some too!" Seunghan pulled you away from Eunseok, "Sweetness, Sungchan needs kisses too. And make sure to make it good for him."

"Hey-" Sungchan tried to protest but you were already on him before he could. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, moving your hips as you pressed yourself into him. Sungchan's muscular arms landed on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he crushed you. You let out a soft moan from the pain but persisted in kissing him.

Sungchan was enjoying the moment, until he felt your hand worm its way down to his belt to remove it, "Wait, wait– Sweetness stop!"

You snapped out of it, in Sungchan's arms with warm lips.

"What the fuck just happened?" You asked, eyes wide.

The members looked around with panicked expressions.

"Well, you see... I– Um," Sungchan tried to explain while still holding you.

Wonbin, still very drunk, says, "Sweetness, have you ever sucked a cock? You have the lips for it."

"Never," You answered.

"We should fix that, and everyone else here wants to play with you..." He mumbled as he passed out on the table.

"Fix what? Play with me? Someone better spill," Your expression started to form anger.

"Sweetness, forget what he just said! He was joking!" Sohee said, panicked.

You blinked, and held your head, "I think I had too much to drink guys... My head is killing me, and my lips burn. Maybe I should call it a night."

The group agreed. Seunghan helped Wonbin to his room with Sohee and Anton. You slept on the couch while everyone else went to Sungchan's and Shoato's room.

"Okay, we need to set rules here," Sungchan warned. "We can't tell y/n about tonight! Then we'll all be killed."

"I didn't even do anything," Sohee raised his hand.

"You made him forget!"

"I panicked!"

"Which means you're just as bad as us," Seunghan reminded.

"So, no telling him. What else?" Sungchan asked.

Anton spoke, "Maybe, don't let other people say it around them. Like if it happens, give a quick and simple command?"

Everyone nodded.

"Until we figure out how to undo that, we'll have to keep our eye on them. And also, no using them like a maid! Just because he can do our chores doesn't mean he should," Sunchan commanded.

"Wait, does it count if he says it, or reads it?" Eunseok asked.

Everyone paused at the thought. No one had thought about that.

"Someone text him, he'll look at his phone," Seunghan ordered.

Anton whipped his phone out.

A: Sweetness, can I have a picture of you?

YN: No, wtf? What's with Sweetness?

A: Nevermind, forget it

"He's okay if he reads it."

"Noted. Tomorrow morning, we figure out how to fix him," Sungchan clapped to dismiss everyone.

Everyone went back to their rooms– Wonbin was dead asleep in bed.

You woke up to the sound of someone in the kitchen. You sat up to see Wonbin getting a glass of water.

"Binnie? What time is it?"

Wonbin looked at his phone, "It's not even 5 am yet, go back to sleep."

"Wait, can I talk to you?"

"Sure, what about?"

"What exactly happened last night? There are gaps I can't remember, super brief ones, but I really can't put it together."

"You want the truth?"

You nodded.

Wonbin sighed, "We did hypnotize you. They used your trigger word so you'd do as they told you. But things got out of hand... You started making out with us."

"That wasn't me–"

"I know, it's all our fault, and you have every right to be mad," Wonbin lowered his head.

"So y'all told me to make out with y'all?"

He nodded solemnly, "I'm sorry for taking advantage. It was wrong. And I know all the members feel the same."

"Well, at least it's over, now that I know it means the hypnosis is over."

Wonbin's head shot up, "Really?"

You nodded, "Once a person knows they're being hypnotized, it usually breaks it– But don't tell the others yet. I want to see what they'll do."

Wonbin nodded, "It's only fair you get us back. Should I test it?"

You nodded.

"Sweetness, I've been bad, slap me."

You slapped Wonbin's cheek.

Wonbin rubbed his face in shock, "You're still hypnotized!"

You laughed, "No, I'm not. You deserved that." You sent him to bed with his painful reminder not to mess with you as you plot your revenge for the next day. It wasn't long before someone else came into the living room.

"Y/n, are you awake?" It was Sungchan.

You rolled over, pretending to sleep.

"Please forgive me later... Sweetness, can I have a kiss?" He muttered.

You sat up and held your hands out to him, waiting for him to get closer. When he did, you pulled him in for a kiss.

"Whoa, it's even better than before– It's like you really... mean it." Sungchan sat on the couch with you, "Sweetness, take off your shirt."

You stripped off your shirt. Normally you'd cover yourself shyly, but you had to keep up the charade longer.

Sungchan touched your torso, admiring it before he stripped off his shirt. "Sweetness, I... I love you. And, I want you to say it too."

You swallowed, and your throat ran dry at hearing him confess to you. Originally you were going to stop before things got too far, but you didn't have the heart to break character. "I-I love you, Sungchan."

"Call me, Sungchannie."

"Sungchannie."

You watched as his hand slipped down his pants as he rubbed his cock, "Say you love me again, say 'I love you, Sungchannie', do it now, Sweetness."

"I love you, Sungchannie..." Your breath hitched as you repeated the sentence.

"Sweetness."

You held your breath, listening for his next command. You weren't hypnotized anymore, but you wanted to listen to him.

"C-Can you suck me off?" He stuttered.

"Y-Yeah," You replied, with big eyes.

Sungchan almost jumped when you answered, "Y/n! You're not– You're awake! I, uh–"

You covered his mouth, "Don't tell anyone. This will just be you and me..." You slipped your hand down his pants and took over stroking his cock.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Were you pretending the whole time?"

"No, just this time I was."

Sungchan nodded his head, understanding it wasn't time for more questions as he watched you lower your head.

"Can I... make you act like you're hypnotized?" He asked

You smiled devilishly, "Say the magic word then."

"Sweetness, suck it. Now," His voice got deeper as he shoved you down, forcing his cock down your throat.

You started sucking on his tip as you looked up with big cute eyes. He can't help but push up into you, fucking your mouth. Your eyes watered and you gagged at every thrust. Anyone could walk into the living room, hearing the noise, but Sungchan didn't care. His voice started to slip out of his mouth in soft moans.

He lets go of you to let you catch your breath. Spit dripped down your chin as you breathed heavily. He had to cover his mouth but wanted to fuck your throat again too, you put his dick back in your mouth. Looking up again and keeping eye contact. Sungchan's free hand stroked your head, praising you silently.

Your eyes watered, your chin covered with spit as you gagged like crazy. You chase your orgasm as you moan and rub your cock in your pants. After only a few seconds, you let out a stronger moan as you finish in your pants. Sungchan was quick to follow.

"Sweetness, swallow it!" He commanded.

You dutifully swallowed every drop, not letting any go to waste. You released him with a loud pop, and Sungchan's head was spinning.

"Holy shit... You're way too good at that," He complimented. "Now, go back to sleep, Sweetness. We can talk in the morning."

You laid down like you were going to fall asleep and Sungchan left the room, not realizing someone had been watching him...

#oracle of dreams #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #riize x reader #riize smut #riize #riize anton #riize wonbin #riize sohee #riize sungchan #riize shotaro #riize eunseok #riize seunghan

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jjenthusee · 3 months ago

Text

Empty Plates

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: I SUCCESSFULLY MOVED SO THATS WHY I WAS GONE FOR A HOT MIN but i wanted to give u something while we wait for Racing Hearts pt. 4 :D ENJOY comment if ur comfortable and let me hear ur thoughts \(^~^)/

Tags: hurt/no comfort, angst, sorry yall we gon cry together

Word Count: 1.3k

He left.

Jason was gone.

The apartment was cold. The only outline of him ever being there was the blanket pushed aside, curving around where he used to lay on the bed.

Everything was too good while it lasted.

No matter how many times he left without a word, it felt like it started to hurt less and less the more you didn’t see him next to you.

You’ve always heard how great other people’s relationships were. Too good to be true. It feels like a dream.

And they were right.

It was like a dream.

But Jason was only in your life like a dream.

Only in your bed late in the night.

Willing to be there when the moon rose.

And like a dream, he disappeared. Only like a memory.

They say that hate is worse than love, but the opposite of love was indifference.

And you had no energy to care anymore.

——

So you woke up.

Like any other morning.

Folding your blankets, face blank, heart blank.

You took out loose leaf tea, started prepping breakfast as the water boiled.

Your morning gray.

No music, no color, no Jason.

It was silent, only the sounds of water boiling, popping from the heat.

Your knife hitting the cutting board.

New cooking pans on the stove.

Your body going through the motions without a thought.

You couldn’t bring yourself to think, to feel.

You ate your breakfast, sitting at the table, watching the traffic go by.

Steam hitting your face from the cup as you let it warm your fingers.

No one sitting across from you.

No second mug to mimic yours.

No legs and knees bumping into yours.

You didn’t have any appetite anymore.

You mentally reprimanded yourself for wasting food, but you dumped the rest in the trash, getting nauseous from the sight.

Putting any dirty dishes in the sink.

Chores can be completed later.

You sullenly grabbed some clothes, getting in the shower.

You stood, letting your head feel the water pressure hit your scalp.

You broke.

You slowly fell to the shower floor.

Water running down your face as you sobbed, quietly weeping to yourself.

Your tears mixing with the warm water.

Memories flooded your mind.

“Jaybird, I want to get new cooking pans.” You wrapped your arms around Jason as he cooked.

“Why? These are still in good condition.” Jason continued flipping your small pancakes on the pan.

“But I want a new set that we bought together now that we moved.” You nuzzled your face into his back.

“Hm.” Jason hummed at the warm feeling of you behind him. “We can get a new set today. Something you like.”

You smiled into his shirt.

“Thanks, Jaybird.”

Then you got ready. Fixing your hair, brushing your teeth.

Ready for work.

Like nothing happened.

——

It had been two weeks.

No sign of Jason.

No messages. No calls. Nothing.

You rarely ate. You called in sick from work after you were wearing yourself out.

Reaching your limit of filling your time with anything, but Jason.

Forgetting to brush your teeth, no longer changing out of your lounging clothes, staring out the window from the table.

You did drink water, your stomach not tolerating anything else.

No music playing anymore.

It was quiet.

Only the upstairs neighbor’s footsteps filling the silence.

Your face was pale, it felt like your cheeks were hallowing out.

Eyes tired.

You refused to let yourself reach out to Jason first. Countless times before you had called, texted, done something.

But you didn’t wanna do any of it anymore.

No longer following Jason.

You went to the bathroom. Slowly having the energy to walk.

Shutting yourself in there, the walls feeling small, you blankly watched the mirror.

An unrecognizable expression that only visited during the bad times.

You sighed, splashing water on your face.

The floor creaking as you walked back.

When you made it back to the table, you sat down in the same chair, looking at the same cup, watching the same window.

Not acknowledging anything.

“You’re not going to say anything?” Jason said. Sitting across from you. He sounded confused, his expression probably wasn’t any different, but you didn’t know.

You didn’t bother looking.

You almost flinched from his voice. You almost convinced yourself he was an illusion.

“Yell?” He questioned. “Anything?”

You stayed quiet. Staring out the window.

When was the last time you took a walk?

“Please say something.” Jason pleaded in front of you.

It was too hot these days, but if it was cloudy like today, maybe you should start walking soon.

You still stared out the window, taking a sip from your cup.

“Nothing?” Jason’s frustration peaking into his voice.

You needed some exercise.

“Sweetheart.” Jason firmly impeded your thoughts.

You sighed.

“I’m tired.” You softly spoke.

“I came back because I was worried.” Jason explained.

Your frustration building. Trying to balance out your nonchalance and anger.

“It’s so noisy.” You flatly said to yourself.

“But things were supposed to be okay, I made sure—“

You angrily set the cup down, water splashing from the impact. The cup cracking, water leaking onto the table.

You continued to look out the window. Not acknowledging the mess around your hand.

“I don’t know if you realize this, Jason, but my world stopped the day you left. I stayed up countless nights worried if there was something wrong, if you were hurt, if I did something wrong—“

“Of course not—“

“I know! I realized that I did my best. I stupidly loved you and I didn’t know what to do when you left me. Again.” You watched two kids bike on the sidewalk. Laughing in their joy.

“I was scared!” Jason stammered, voice straining. “I didn’t know what else to do, so I left!”

“Then what are you so afraid of?!” You closed your eyes, lowering your head into your other hand. The last thing you saw was one of the boys falling, scraping his knee on the pavement.

“It’s because you made me realize that I can be more!” His voice rose. “I realized that maybe I don’t just want to be Red Hood!” Jason paced, recklessly brushing his fingers through his hair.

You froze, listening to his ramble.

“I want to be more. I want to have something other than Red Hood and it’s scaring the absolute shit out of me.” Jason paused, taking his hands out of his hair.

Jason hunched forward trying to make himself as small as possible. Tightly wrapping his arms around himself.

“—the Red Hood helmet.” Jason whispered, so soft you barely heard the end of his sentence.

“What?” You breathlessly responded, keeping your head down, unconsciously mimicking Jason’s soft voice.

“For the first time, I wanted to take off the Red Hood helmet.” He meekly looked at you. His eyebrows crushed together in a horrified look like he, himself, was just realizing this fact.

Your chest stung. You’ve never heard Jason so terrified, trembling in fear, voice shaky.

“I don’t know if I can take off my helmet. I can’t be anything without it.” Jason admitted.

“So you decided to leave, to never say anything, to let me continue my life like you weren’t there?” You harshly told him.

“Yeah, I ran, but I checked on you. Making sure nothing happened as you walked to work, but every day I saw you looking worse.” Jason moved again, but you didn’t want to lift your head. “It never got better, so…I came back. Dammit, look at me!”

He slammed his fits on the table, the cup shaking in your harsh grip.

You lift your head. Staring straight into his eyes.

Jason looked terrified. Angry, yes, but absolutely terrified.

It almost made you laugh from disbelief.

“Whether you take off the helmet or not…” You hesitated. This was it. No more caving in. You leveled your voice, firm and harsh. “Doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

Silence.

The cup shattering in your hands, cutting your hand.

It stung.

Neither of you looking down first, until Jason broke eye contact.

He reached for your injured hand.

You got up, avoiding his touch, walking to the cabinet underneath the kitchen sink. Grabbing the first-aid kit.

Dripping small drops of blood on the floor.

When you turned around, you flinched.

He was gone.

Again.

Like another dream.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #writing

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sleepy-kuroo · 1 year ago

Text

and this darkness appears, leaving me stranded

Miguel O'Hara x Gn!Reader

Word Count: 750

A/n: First time writing in a while, but I can't stop thinking about Miguel O'Hara. Don't know if I'll do a part two.

Edit: read the prequel here! I will not be continuing this so sorry y'all. It's just gonna be an angsty ending :(

You sat on the ledge of your apartment building, dressed in your spider-suit with your mask halfway up as you ate the sandwich you packed. The sun was setting in the horizon, the sky blossoming with hues of warm oranges and cool lilacs. You had your headphones on, nodding your head as you enjoyed your time off.

Your body was slightly sore after finishing your patrol for the day, back aching from a fall you had sustained earlier. You relaxed under the cool breeze, watching traffic move below you mindlessly. You took a deep breath, relaxing your shoulders when your spider sense activated, alerting you of a presence behind you.

You looked over your shoulder, spotting familiar sparks of warm yellows and oranges. You hear the faint whirring of a portal through your headphones. Without looking at the figure behind you, you paused your music and took off your headphones.

“Thought you never wanted to see my face again,” you spoke, taking another bite of your sandwich. You heard a sigh of annoyance behind you before footsteps grew louder. You took your mask off fully and looked up at the figure standing right beside you on the ledge. “Missed me already?” you asked, a hint of bitterness in your tone.

Miguel O’Hara looked down on you with that familiar hard gaze, his large stature looming over you. The two of you exchanged looks, not speaking a word as tension slowly thickened the air around you. Your pointed glares and stern expressions communicated more than enough. The longer you stared, the more you began to recognize some of the emotions swirling in his eyes: anger, frustration, annoyance, and…desperation.

“Come back,” he finally spoke. His voice cut through the thick air between you, heavy with that commanding tone you both loved and hated.

You simply stare at him, not saying a word before moving your attention back to the sunset in front of you. You watch as the sun now barely peeks over the horizon, the warm oranges slowly fading out as the sky becomes enveloped in cool blues and lilacs.

Silence falls over the two of you.

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” you repeat yourself, putting the rest of the sandwich back in its container and slipping it into your bag along with your headphones. You pulled your mask over your head and stood up on the ledge. “If that’s all you came here for then you should go back. Wouldn’t want you to waste your time on me,” you sigh, watching as Miguel closes his eyes in frustration as he’s reminded of his last words to you.

You begin to step off the ledge when Miguel wraps his large hand around your arm, holding you in place. “(Y/n),” he grunted in annoyance. His actions flip a switch in you, your resentment towards him threatening to spill over.

You snap your gaze towards him, the eye slits on your mask narrowing as you glare at him but slightly soften at the new expression on his face. His gaze still held the same sharpness to it but you picked up on the faintest furrow of his brows and the slight frown pulling down the corners of his lips. His eyes though…oh the desperation in his eyes. He’s looking at you as if it’s the last time he’ll ever see you…and perhaps it is.

“I’m sor-...” Miguel speaks again, the words on the tip of his tongue but refuses to spill out. He’s not sure if you can tell but he’s terrified. Terrified of being vulnerable again. Terrified of losing you. Terrified of the realization that his actions may have just caused him to lose another person he cared about.

You wait patiently, a part of you desperately wishing that Miguel will take the leap, to allow himself to open up again…

…but his grip on your arm loosens up and falls to his side. Miguel looks back down at the ground, fists clenched at his side as clearly struggles with himself. The longer that time passes though, the more you realize that you don’t have the time to wait for him anymore.

“Don’t come back here Miguel,” you speak softly but there is no anger left in your voice, only sadness. “For your own sake…” You look at him one last time before stepping off the ledge, swinging back onto the fire escape and going back into your apartment.

The sun is nowhere to be found by the time Miguel leaves.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara angst

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masonmontz · 3 months ago

Text

hello :) how are you?

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

fluff word count: 1,5k

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“Mason, what happened to you?” You asked worriedly, as Mason appeared through the large airport door and walked towards you. He was pale and you could see the pain on his face.

“Honey, please, take me to the hospital.” You haven't even been able to hug your boyfriend, even after almost two weeks away from him. Mason was in the US for pre-season and you arranged to pick him up at the airport, so you would spend three days together before he returned to training.

That's what you thought.

“What are you feeling?” You asked and held Mason's bag, then wrapped your arms around his waist and started walking towards the car. “Why didn't you ask any of the doctors for help?”

“They are tired. My stomach hurts a lot, I think I ate something that didn't agree with me.” He whimpered and put his hand on his belly, massaging it.

“Oh, my poor boy. Let’s go.” You would laugh if Mason wasn't so needy, because he was like that when he was sick. It was probably natural for men to whine when they were in any pain.

You helped Mason into the car and put his bag away, then got into the car to drive him to the hospital.

“Please don't vomit here.” You teased him, but you could tell he was feeling bad when he didn't even laugh. “Does it hurt that much?”

“Yes. I threw up on the plane, but I didn't tell anyone.” He spoke and closed his eyes, probably not wanting to feel bad about the car moving. “It's shameful.”

“You know it's not shameful, Mase, everyone gets sick.” He nodded and stayed silent, so you pulled his hand in for a kiss and Mason leaned in to kiss your cheek as you drove.

“I missed you so much, Y/N, you can’t imagine how much.” He spoke softly and you smiled, holding his face as you paid attention to the traffic. Mason laid his head on your shoulder, and you enjoyed the little moment, even though you knew he was sick.

“I missed you too, cuddly bear.” Masn snorted at the nickname. “I'm just kidding with you, my love.”

Mason had food poisoning, which is why he had a fever and was in so much pain. He threw up twice in the hospital and almost cried, like a little boy wanting his mommy.

“I'm feeling so tired.” He grumbled, lying in the hospital bed. Mason didn't let you leave his side and held your hand, afraid that you would leave him alone there. “I just want to go home.”

“I know, babe, but soon we’ll be going home, okay?” You left a kiss on his forehead and Mason nodded, closing his eyes. You smiled at him, sad and in pain, just wanting to comfort him and see your boyfriend well again. “I'm going to talk to the doctor, I'll be right back.”

“No, don’t leave me here alone.” He whined and didn't let go of your hand, and you rolled your eyes at how clingy he was.

“Mason, please, I just want to know what time we can go home and what medicine to get for you.” He sighed and let go of you, then you left the room looking for the doctor who attended to Mason.

The doctor said that you and Mason could go home now, but Mason needed to rest for two days, eat nothing but potatoes and soup, and take his medicine.

It was funny to see the doctor asking Mason for an autograph, and even though he was shaking, Mason accepted and even took a picture with the doctor, even without him asking. You guys went home and Mason kept clinging, whimpering in pain and threw up a few times.

He got embarrassed every time when he had to go to the bathroom, and that made the scene funny, but you knew he was suffering. Mason is like a lion on the pitch, he could fall twenty times and not complain about any of them, but as soon as he felt unwell he would become like a child.

“I'll make dinner for you.” You left Mason lying on the bed, watching Game of Thrones as you went to the kitchen. Debbie called you a few minutes later.

“How is he now? I called but he didn't answer.” She said, as you chopped some vegetables for the soup.

“He must have slept, he took some strong medicine. The doctor said he'll be better soon, but he threw up a few times this afternoon.” You looked at Debbie on the video call, and waved at Tony when he stopped to talk to you.

“He must be whining like a baby, I know my son.” She laughed and you agreed. Mason being sick was hilarious. “Tell him to call me when he gets better.”

“I'll talk to him, don't worry.” You put the vegetables in the pan, then grabbed the chicken to cut as well. “Do you already know when you can come here?”

“We're thinking of going to Manchester next week, but Jaz wants to go too, so we need to organize that.”

“We miss you, especially Mason.”

You and Debbie talked for a few more minutes, and you continued preparing dinner for you and Mason. It was summer, but the day was rainy and cold, as always.

When everything was ready, you went to the room to call Mason, and melted when you saw him sleeping under the covers, cold because of his fever. You felt sorry for waking him up, but he hadn't eaten all day.

“Hey, babe, wake up.” You spoke softly as you leaned in to place a kiss on his hot, red cheek. You sat on the edge of the bed, stroking his arm and hair too, hearing Mason sigh.

“Hm?” He asked, still asleep, and you smiled.

“Let's have dinner, you need to eat something.” Mason opened his eyes and looked at you, and he looked a little lost.

“How long did I sleep?” He asked hoarsely, yawning.

“Almost an hour, but you can sleep more later.” He agreed and you helped him out of bed, then you went to the kitchen together. “Feeling better?”

“A little, but my stomach still hurts and I'm cold.” He grumbled as he sat down in a chair, and you poured some soup for him on his plate. “I don’t like soup.”

“Don’t start.” You snapped at him, knowing Mason didn't like soup, but he needed to eat. “If you eat something else, you will get worse.”

“But soup?” He twisted his face, refusing to eat.

“You're 25 now, Mason, you're going to eat.” You didn't say anything when Mason started eating, but he even had seconds of soup, and he was being sneaky because he knew you cared for him.

“It was good.” He took over and you smiled, picking up the plate and taking it to the sink, then you came back and he was still sitting in the chair, and he hugged you around the waist while you left a kiss in his hair.

“I know. C’mon, let’s go to bed.” When you were ready for bed and so was Mason, you laid down next to him, and Mason shifted until he was almost completely on top of you, even though he was much bigger and heavier.

“Thank you for taking care of me, I know you had things to do today.” He spoke softly and sighed, yawning. You brought your hand to his forehead, and Mason was still a little warm, but much better. “And the soup was very good, even though I know soup is not dinner.”

“Oh, shut up, soup is dinner, everybody agrees.” You rolled your eyes and Mason snuggled in, laying his head on your chest as you rubbed his back.

“I love you, I promise I'll give you a gift for taking care of me.”

“I don't need gifts, Mason. I love taking care of you. In sickness and in health, remember?” You mocked him.

“I don't remember the wedding part, maybe my head was just too busy.” He played back.

“I love you, I will always take care of you, even if you are a clingy crybaby when you are sick.”

“I’m not a crybaby, my stomach hurts.”

“Oh, you are definitely a crybaby.”

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skrrts · 3 months ago

Text

Hey, are you busy right now? ft. SAN (drabble series)

✧ gn! reader x choi san ✧ genre: non-idol, slice of life, fluff, dating, video call ✧ word count: 692

You tried your best, really, but after hours of studying, you can't read another page. Calling your boyfriend seems like a good idea for a small break: San answers right away, always worried that you overwork yourself. He's stuck in the traffic while on his way to you but it doesn't stop him from being cute on the phone.

It hadn’t even been ringing for three seconds when the close-up of your boyfriend’s face appeared. All you could see was San’s pouty mouth, followed by a silly kissing sound before he moved the camera back a little.

“What was that?” you laughed, and he looked at the camera with a very lazy but cute smile.

“Kissing my favorite person in the world. You know me, I have the habit of always greeting you first with a kiss,” San’s voice was soft and sweet.

He never really failed to do it, no matter if you were separated for a few days or just hours, like when he would volunteer to go and pick up food from your favorite place that still didn’t offer delivery. The soft kiss was the way to greet you.

You chuckled, relaxing back into your pillows, careful not to hit one of your books, and blew a playful kiss back at him. “And you know I always love that.”

San was smiling as he fixed his beanie a little before giving you a proper look: “Work wasn’t too busy today, so they kicked me out, and I stopped by my parents'. Dad’s actually driving me to you right now because, based on my experience, you likely skipped lunch again in favor of studying faster.”

You brushed through your hair, smiling: “Hello, Mister Choi!”

You got along quite well with both of San’s parents. You often visited them or they joined you for little weekend trips every so often.

His voice was as soft as it was scolding, and there was no way around you making a guilty face. San knew you too well, he really did. When you started to study, there was just no stopping; you wanted to get it done and only took a break when your brain refused to take in any more information.

“I ate some of those energy bars of yours. You always eat them at the gym!” you defended yourself in a cute voice, knowing he couldn’t resist it.

“Y/N! You really are something,” he laughed and shook his head.

Video calls with San were always about the same. He would be cute and teasing while looking at you so softly that you wanted to melt. Most didn’t consider him such a sweet guy when they saw his firm build.

“So, you coming over means you’ll stay the night?” Your voice was full of hope as you looked innocently at him, slowly moving to tap at the free space on your bed that San loved to curl up in.

Sometimes, when your exam was the next day, he’d do just that. You would sit at your desk until late at night, and he would curl into the blankets, napping and peeking over at you like a cat until you would finally sigh, wrap up, and join him.

San loved his cuddles. He loved for you to wrap your arms around him, place little kisses all over his head, and in return, he’d hold you in a gentle embrace, and you’d nap together.

“How about a day or two? I think I’ve left so much clothing at yours lately, it’s easy enough to stick around. Work’s nearby, so why not?”

You sat up: “I’d like that! Well, I guess that means I should get ready and prepare the dinner table. Make some space for my big fluffy cat to come home.”

San smiled, and his dad chuckled next to him, saying, “We should be there in ten minutes.”

Your boyfriend kissed the camera again: “I’ll see you soon then. I love you.”

You turned around in the room, before you gave in and kissed the camera in the same silly way.

“I love you too. See you in ten minutes then.”

With that, the two of you ended the video call.

You studied quite a bit today, and made good progress ... it didn't only seem more tempting but also fair to spend the rest of the evening with your boyfriend.

And when you were finally done preparing the table, there was a knock before the door opened and you turned around.

"Welcome home."

#san x reader #san x you #ateez x reader #ateez drabble #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez writing #sn tag #san drabble #ateez fluff #san fluff #reis writes #fluff tag #choi san x reader #hey are you busy right now?

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goblinontour · 4 months ago

Text

Happenstance

or when it all came down for him

part 6 | series masterlist

warnings: prof!al, age gap (not specified), smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), rimming (m/f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), piv, fluff, angst, crying, lots of feelings, he’s a mess

word count: 14.7k

The morning light poured into Alex's kitchen, scattering rays across the room, casting a warm, golden hue that brought a sense of serenity to the space. The small table by the window, where the two of you sat, seemed almost magical in the soft glow. The sunlight filtered through the leaves outside, creating a delicate pattern of lights and shadows that danced on the walls, adding to the peaceful ambiance of the morning.

Alex sat across from you, shirtless, wearing a pair of faded shorts that had clearly seen better days. They were frayed at the edges, and the colour had long since faded from repeated washings, but they were his favourite pair, so comfortable that he refused to part with them.

He’d gotten a haircut a few days ago, and his hair still bore the uneven signs of the fresh trim. The sides were too short, while the top was a messy tumble that defied any attempt to tame it. You had to suppress a smile at how it made him look slightly boyish, though no less handsome.

He was an effortless vision of rugged charm, his skin glowing warmly in the morning light, muscles relaxed, exuding that casual confidence that drew you in. As he ate a piece of toast, you couldn't help but watch him, enamoured by the simplicity of the moment. There was something so special to you about seeing him in this unguarded state, doing nothing more than enjoying his breakfast.

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, catching you in the act of staring. A small smile played on his lips, and you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. You took a sip of your tea to cover your embarrassment, the warmth of the drink soothing your nerves. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with the sounds of the morning. A bird chirping outside, the distant hum of early traffic, the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

Despite basically living in the same house, as you'd spent nearly every night here for months now, you didn't often get moments like this. One of you always left before the other, rushing off to classes or some errands, rarely getting the chance to savour the quiet intimacy of a shared morning. It was nice, really nice, to finally have him all to yourself, without the usual interruptions or the ticking clock pushing you apart.

He cherished these rare, unhurried mornings. Watching you across the table, sipping your tea with that slight smile playing on your lips, he felt a sense of peace that was hard to come by before. He was used to the constant movement, the early mornings where he left you sleeping soundly, or the late nights when he’d slip into bed after you’d already drifted off. But this. This was different.

He admired the way the morning light highlighted your features, casting a soft glow that made you look ethereal. You were beautiful, always, but there was something about the quiet moments that made you seem even more so to him. Maybe it was the way you looked at him, with such genuine affection, or the way you seemed to savour every moment, as if you were storing them away for the days when life would inevitably get in the way.

Alex took another bite of his toast, unable to keep the smile from his face. He didn’t need grand gestures or elaborate plans. This was enough. More than enough. Just being here with you, in the comfort of his own kitchen, sharing a simple breakfast, was more precious than he could put into words. It was in these small moments that he felt the depth of his feelings for you, realising just how much you’d become a part of his life, his routine, his heart.

“You know, I've been thinking about something.” Alex said, breaking the serene quiet. His tone was casual, but you detected an underlying note of excitement.

“What?” you asked, your curiosity piqued. You took another sip of your tea, savouring its warmth.

“We should go back home for the summer,” he suggested, his eyes locking onto yours with a hopeful glint, “It's cooler up north. You could stay with me, I mean, at my place there, if you want. What do you think?”

His words hung in the air, filled with promise and possibility. The thought of spending the summer with him, away from the heat and hustle of the city, and especially not having to hide so much anymore, was incredibly enticing. You imagined the two of you exploring all the places you already knew, but now together, and sharing lazy afternoons in the cool shade

A smile spread across your face as you considered his proposal. The idea of seeing and experiencing the places that had shaped him through his own eyes was thrilling. More than that, it was the chance to actually spend time together properly, not just locked inside of his apartment.

“I think it sounds perfect,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his, "I'd love to go with you."

Alex’s face lit up with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you adored, when the faint wrinkles started to show. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. His thumb brushed over your knuckles in a gentle, familiar caress, a silent promise of everything he couldn’t quite articulate.

“Then it's settled.” he said, his voice warm and full of promise. “But…I have something else to tell you.”

You looked at him curiously, sensing a shift in the air. His eyes held a mixture of excitement and a hint of nervousness.

“What is it?” you asked.

Alex took a deep breath, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “I’d like to take you home,” he said, his gaze unwavering, “As in, to my parents’ house. To meet them.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. The idea itself made you incredibly nervous. Meeting his parents was a big step, one you hadn’t quite prepared for. You hadn't told anyone about your relationship, not one person. Would he expect to meet your parents too? The thought alone was enough to make you break out in a cold sweat. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how that would go. It was overwhelming, a cascade of anxiety threatening to break the serene bubble you'd built around your relationship. Your mind started racing, considering all the implications. The world outside this kitchen alone suddenly seemed too complex, too filled with expectations and judgments.

You felt a rush of nerves, and Alex noticed immediately. He brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it sweetly, his touch grounding you, pulling you back from your spiralling thoughts.

“Why?” was all you could manage to say.

He wasn’t offended. He could see the hesitation in your eyes and understood. “I might have accidentally told my mum that I’m seeing someone,” he admitted with a sheepish grin, “And now she wants to meet that someone. And that someone is you, sweetheart.” He smiled, his thumb massaging your hand in a reassuring rhythm.

“Oh. Uhm...I haven’t told anyone.” you said, your voice small, barely above a whisper.

“I know.” he replied instantly, his tone gentle. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, but I’d like to.”

You didn’t say anything, still thinking of all the things it would imply. This would be like breaking the little bubble you’d built around your relationship, a bubble you’d managed to keep hidden for so long. Your relationship had been safe from the outside world's scrutiny and expectations. Stepping out of that felt like a leap into the unknown.

“She made fun of me when I talked to her on the phone the other day and it slipped out.” he continued, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “She said it was ‘about time,’” he paused, smiling to himself as he remembered the conversation, “that I’m getting ‘too old.’” He chuckled, showing the quotation marks with one of his hands while his other hand held yours, his fingers still moving in that same soothing motion over your skin.

You watched him, feeling the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his words. He wasn’t pushing you. He was inviting you, offering you a glimpse into another part of his life. It was a big step, but as you looked into his eyes, filled with affection and understanding, you felt a flicker of hope. It was clear how much this meant to him, and despite your nerves, you couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through you at the thought of being included in this part of his life.

“It’s just…a lot.” you said finally, your voice trembling slightly.

“I know,” he said softly, his eyes filled with understanding. “And we don’t have to rush into anything. But I want you to know that you mean a lot to me.”

“Okay.” you said, your voice soft but steady. “I’ll meet them.”

His face lit up with a bright smile, and he squeezed your hand gently. “Thank you.” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. “You’re going to love them,” he added, his excitement palpable, “And they’re going to love you.”

You hoped he was right. This was a new chapter, one that held as much promise as it did uncertainty.

“So, should I book the train tickets, or do you want to get them at the station?” Alex asked, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

You looked at him, confused. “Why the train? You have a car. Old, like you, but working.”

Alex put a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended. “Old, like me? Ouch.” he said, his eyes widening in mock hurt. “I’m not that old.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics. “Oh, come on. You know what I mean.”

He pouted dramatically, his lips forming a playful frown. “I’m in my prime, thank you very much.”

You reached across the table, giving his hand a squeeze. “Sure you are, grandpa.”

He gasped, drawing back in exaggerated shock. “Oh, okay. Now you’ve done it. I’m deeply wounded.”

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled. “Alright, alright. You’re young and spry. Happy?”

“Much better.” he said with a satisfied nod, his playful grin returning. “But seriously, I don’t like driving long distances.” he admitted, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Seriously?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m serious.” he said, trying to sound firm.

“Well, I’m not going on a train with you again. You know how that went.” you replied, the memory of the last train ride flashing through your mind.

Alex smirked, clearly remembering it well. “Well then, you can drive. And for the record, I enjoyed that train ride.”

You rolled your eyes at his relaxed posture as he slumped back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, clearly amused by the situation.

“I’m not driving your old car.”

“It’s not that old.” he chuckled.

“It’s a relic.” you teased. “I’m surprised it even starts.”

“It has character.” he defended, his tone mock-offended.

You shook your head, laughing softly. “Okay, fine. I’ll drive. You’ll be my passenger princess. But only because I love you.”

His expression softened, and he leaned forward, pressing another gentle kiss to your hand. “Thank you.” he said, his voice sincere. “I love you too.”

You were finally in the car and onto the road. Finally. Alex had taken longer than you would’ve thought to pack everything. Sure, you would be staying there for quite a while, but he really didn’t have to overthink everything you might need. It was adorable to watch him though, pacing from room to room, remembering that little thing you might need, just in case.

He double-checked the toiletries, triple-checked the clothes, and even packed extra blankets, “just in case it gets chilly at night.” which didn’t make any sense. You stood by the door, shaking your head in amusement as he darted back and forth, grabbing yet another item that suddenly seemed essential.

When he finally declared himself ready, he loaded everything into his not-so-old car and you set off. Despite your initial doubts about it, his car wasn’t bad to drive at all. In fact, it was quite comfortable, and the familiar hum of the engine you’ve come to know from all the rides back home together became a soothing background noise as you navigated the roads.

Alex, taking his role as passenger princess very seriously, immediately started fiddling with the radio, putting on his playlist he made for the journey. Every ten minutes, he would ask if you wanted any water, until you had to tell him to stop. “I’m fine, Alex, really. Relax.” you said, shooting him a playful glance.

“Just making sure.” he replied with a grin, turning the volume up on a favourite song.

The landscape began to change as you drove further from the city, the buildings giving way to fields and trees. The sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds, and the air felt increasingly fresher the further north you went. Alex sang along to the music, his voice mingling with the melody, creating a perfect soundtrack for your journey.

You glanced over at him, feeling a surge of affection. His excitement was contagious, and despite your initial nerves, you felt a growing sense of anticipation. This trip was a new step, a new adventure, and you were glad to be sharing it with him.

As the familiar chords of ‘A Song for You’ by Leon Russell began to play, Alex's face lit up with joy. “Oh, I love this song.” he said, his voice softening with emotion. “It’s one of my all time favourites.”

You glanced over at him, seeing the genuine affection in his eyes as he started to sing along. His voice carried the heartfelt lyrics with a tenderness that made you feel as though he was singing directly to you.

“I've been so many places in my life and time.” he sang, his voice strong yet intimate. As he continued, he glanced over at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “It always gets to me.” he confessed, his eyes holding yours. “Makes me think of all the things we sometimes don’t say enough, love and gratitude and all that stuff.”

You felt a lump form in your throat as you listened to him, the sincerity in his voice touching something deep within you. The way he connected with the song, the emotion in his eyes, it all spoke volumes about the kind of person he was. He felt deeply, and you knew it caused him trouble sometimes, but it was beautiful.

When he reached the chorus, his voice became even more tender. “And I'm singing this song to you.” he sang, his gaze never wavering from yours. You glanced over at him. His excitement was contagious, and despite your initial nerves, you felt a growing sense of anticipation.

His voice softened as he sang the final lines, his eyes never leaving yours.

“And when my life is over, remember when we were together. We were alone and I was singing this song for you.”

As the song came to an end, Alex leaned back in his seat, a contented smile on his face. “I’m so grateful I have you.” he said softly. “Do you like it?”

You reached over and squeezed his hand, your heart full. “It’s beautiful.” you replied. “And so are you.”

He chuckled, squeezing your hand back. “Thanks.” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “I'm glad you think so.”

As you drove, the conversation flowed. Alex talked a lot about his childhood, sharing stories about the places you’d soon visit. His eyes sparkled with nostalgia, and you could tell how much this meant to him.

It was so cute to see him get excited, especially when he reminisced about the familiar spots you both knew. Even though you’d moved away when you were younger, you still visited sometimes, and it was incredible to realise how your paths had been so close without intersecting until you met him as your professor.

“You remember that little candy store on the corner?” he asked, his voice animated.

“Of course!” you replied, laughing. “I used to save up just to buy stuff from there.”

“Same here! I used to go there every Saturday.” he said, shaking his head in amazement.

You smiled at the thought, picturing a younger Alex, excitedly picking out his favourite sweets. “And the old cinema? The outdoorsy one, we went there every summer when we came up here.”

His eyes lit up even more. “That place was like a second home to me. First movie I ever saw at there was ‘The Lion King.’” Alex chuckled, clearly enjoying this trip down memory lane. “And there’s this little bakery in town,” he said, “They make the best apple pie. We have to go there.”

“Apple pie, huh? Is that your secret weakness?” you teased, glancing over at him.

“Maybe.” he admitted with a laugh. “You’ll see. It’s so worth it.”

The miles passed quickly, the road stretching out before you like a ribbon. The car was filled with laughter and music. Alex occasionally reached over to squeeze your hand, wanting to touch you every chance he got.

You two finally arrived at his apartment, the familiar sight bringing back a flood of memories. It was here, in this space, that everything had really started. You remembered the first time you’d stepped through the door, the awkward tension that had quickly melted away. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Alex set the bags down and immediately shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair. He began unbuttoning his shirt, a look of relief on his face. “I need to take a shower right now.” he declared. “Maybe you were right, I should probably get a new car. No AC is torture.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” he said, rolling his eyes playfully. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist just as you were trying to take off your shoes. “Are you joining or what?” he grinned, his breath warm against your ear.

Before you could respond, he started kissing your neck, his lips trailing soft, teasing kisses along your skin. His fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, tracing random patterns on your tummy, sending shivers down your spine.

“Alex!” you murmured, half-laughing, half-sighing as you tried to keep your balance while removing your shoes. “You're not making this easy.”

“I never do.” he whispered, his voice low and playful. He turned you around in his arms, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, his hands moving to cup your face gently.

You melted into him, the tiredness from the journey and the stress that was haunting you, of eventually meeting his family, all fading away in his embrace. His kiss was warm and inviting, filled with a tenderness that made your heart race.

Pulling back slightly, he looked into your eyes, his own filled with a mixture of desire and affection. “So, what do you say?” he asked, his voice a soft murmur against your lips. “Shower together?”

You smiled, feeling a surge of affection for him. “Go ahead, I’ll just be a minute.” you replied, your fingers trailing down his chest as he gave you one last quick kiss before walking away and into the hall bathroom.

You followed Alex into the bathroom just a few moments later. The sound of the water running could be heard from outside. When you opened the door, you found him already under the stream, his hair slicked back from the water pouring over his head. The droplets glistened on his skin, highlighting the contours of his body. He looked like a vision of effortless masculinity, standing there relaxed.

You took a moment to appreciate the sight before starting to undress. As you slipped off your clothes and placed them to the side, you caught Alex eyeing you up and down shamelessly. His gaze was intense, filled with a mixture of admiration and want.

“Stop it.” you said, feeling a little self-conscious all of a sudden. He’d seen you countless times, but the way he looked at you always made your heart skip a beat.

Alex's eyes softened, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “I can't help it,” he murmured, beckoning you over to join him, “You're beautiful.”

You stepped into the shower, and he immediately wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you close. The warmth of his body combined with the hot water was intoxicating. His hands slipped on your skin, gliding effortlessly from the water streaming down the two of you.

He rested his chin on your shoulder, his breath hot against your ear. “This feels nice.” he whispered, his voice low and soothing.

You leaned back into him, closing your eyes and savouring the moment. “It does.”

For a while, the two of you just stood there, wrapped up in each other, letting the water wash away the exhaustion from the journey. His hands moved in slow, gentle patterns over your skin, massaging your shoulders and back, easing away any remaining tension.

“You're too good at this.” you sighed, almost letting out a soft moan from how good his hands felt on your body.

“Well, I do have some motivation.” he replied, his lips brushing against your ear. “I want you to feel as amazing as you make me feel.”

You turned in his arms, facing him, and cupped his face in your hands. “You always make me feel amazing.” you said softly, pressing your forehead to his.

He smiled at you. “I know a pleasant way to make you feel even better.”

Alex's smile turned into a sultry grin before he captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as the water continued to cascade around you. Breaking the kiss, he gently turned you around, pinning you against the shower wall. You gasped as your breasts pressed against the cold tiles, the contrast of sensations making your skin tingle.

He began trailing kisses down your spine, each touch sending shivers through you. His hands glided along your sides, feeling every curve and dip of your body as he lowered himself. When his mouth reached the small of your back, he bit softly at the flesh of your arse, making you moan.

Alex's hands gripped your hips, positioning you so he could get a better angle. He spread you apart, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. Without hesitation, he dove in, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your hole, savouring the taste of your arousal. The sensation was electric, and you couldn't help but push back against his mouth.

He didn't stop there, though. To your surprise, his tongue moved higher, teasing your other hole. He circled it slowly, the intimate touch making you tense and then relax, your body responding to the new sensation. Alex's hands pulled your cheeks open further, giving him full access as he buried his face even more into you.

The feeling was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and vulnerability from being so exposed that left you breathless. His tongue worked skillfully, alternating between gentle licks and firmer strokes, driving you wild. You felt every muscle in your body tighten, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he continued his relentless attention.

He circled your rim with tantalising precision, each stroke eliciting a new wave of pleasure that left you quivering. Alex pulled back for a moment, his breath hot against your sensitive skin as he murmured, “You taste so good. I can't get enough of you.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, amplifying the intensity of the moment. He resumed his ministrations, his tongue now more insistent, pushing against your tight entrance. The wet muscle teased and probed, working you open with slow, deliberate movements.

As his tongue pressed deeper, you felt the tight ring of muscle begin to yield, allowing the wet intrusion to slip inside the slightest bit. The feeling was exquisite, the stretch leaving you gasping for air. Alex groaned against you, the vibration adding another layer of sensation as he worked his tongue further inside you.

Alex's hands roamed over your hips and thighs, steadying you as his tongue continued its relentless exploration. He licked and sucked, creating a delicious friction that had you pressing back against him, seeking more. He kept pushing deeper, stretching you with careful precision. Each thrust was calculated, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion. The wet, slippery sensation of his tongue inside you was overwhelming.

His breath came in ragged gasps, his desire evident in every movement. He pulled back slightly. “You're so tight.” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with lust.

“It feels so good,” you moaned, your voice a breathless whisper, “So good, Alex.”

He groaned against you, your praise fuelling him. His tongue pushed back inside you, each thrust filled with his intent of making you feel as good as possible. You moaned his name, the sound echoing in the shower as he continued his relentless assault.

He pulled back again to catch his breath, and you chased the feeling, trying to push back against him and whimpering weakly at the loss of him.

“Tell me what you want.” he murmured, his hands grabbing at your flesh.

“Just don't stop.” you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “Please, Alex, don't stop.”

His response was immediate, his tongue diving back in with renewed intensity. It felt like he was stretching you further with each thrust. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and a slight hint of discomfort that left you teetering on the edge.

His hands gripped you tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you steady. He twisted his tongue inside you, seeking out every sensitive spot and lavishing it with attention. The intensity of his focus was almost too much to bear, each stroke sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

You reached back, threading your fingers through his wet hair, holding him close as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His tongue circled your rim one last time before he moved back to your clit, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to make you come.

Just after a few more licks and suckles around your clit, the intense pleasure built up to a shattering orgasm. Your entire body tensed, and you let out a sharp cry, your fingers clutching Alex’s hair tighter as the waves of ecstasy crashed over you. He groaned into you at the sharp feeling, sending an added jolt of pleasure through your already trembling body.

He held you steady, his strong hands gripping your hips as you rode out the orgasm. His tongue and lips slowed their movements, gradually easing you down from the peak of pleasure. Each gentle stroke and caress kept the sensation alive, prolonging it.

As your breathing began to steady, he shifted to leaving soft, reverent kisses on your cunt, making you shiver each time he made contact with your overly sensitive spot. Your legs felt weak, barely able to hold you up, but Alex's grip on you remained firm and reassuring.

He eventually stood up, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and adoration as he looked at you over your shoulder. “Good?” he whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.

You smiled, still breathless from the intensity of your orgasm. “Good? That was more than just good.” you replied softly, leaning in to kiss him. The taste of yourself on his lips sent another small thrill through you.

He grinned, a look of pure pride and satisfaction spreading across his face. He pulled you close, enveloping you in a warm embrace. “Let me get you cleaned up.” he murmured, his voice a soothing relief. He reached for the showerhead, gently rinsing the remaining suds and evidence of your passion from your skin.

As you finished up in the shower, Alex wrapped you in a soft towel, his touch tender and caring. “Come on, let’s relax for a bit.” he suggested, guiding you out of the bathroom.

You followed Alex out of the bathroom, both of you wrapped in towels, his hanging loosely around his hips. He guided you to the bedroom, and you both lay down on the soft bed, not bothering to change into something else.

As you settled next to him, you couldn't help but notice the telltale tent in his towel, his cock hard and straining against the fabric. You instinctively reached out to touch him, wanting to reciprocate the pleasure he had just given you. But he gently caught your hand, stopping you.

“Later.” he murmured, his voice a soft promise. He turned around, pulling you close to him, his arms wrapping around you in a protective grip.

You could still feel his hardness pressing against your thigh, a persistent reminder. “Are you sure?” you asked, your voice laced with concern and desire to make him feel good too.

“Yeah,” he replied, nuzzling his face into your hair, “It'll go down. I just want to hold you for a bit.”

His voice melted any lingering tension in your body. You relaxed into his embrace, feeling his steady heartbeat against your own. “Okay.” you whispered, snuggling closer to him.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the closeness, the simple joy of being held by him. As you lay there, you felt his breathing slow, matching your own, the rise and fall of his chest a calming rhythm. Despite the persistent press of him against your thigh, there was no urgency, no rush. Alex's arms tightened around you slightly, a silent affirmation of his own contentment.

You had finished unpacking some of the essentials you’d need more often, leaving the rest for another day. Alex had ordered some food for the two of you, and you ate dinner together in his living room, cuddled up on the sofa. He suggested going out, given how you always stayed in back in the city, but you said it was fine staying in and just getting something for now. After the long drive, you weren’t in the mood to get ready for an outing. There would be more than enough time to go out on another day.

Once you tidied everything up a bit and got ready for bed, it didn’t take long for things to heat up between you. Lying next to each other, your lips found his, and soon you were making out, the intensity building with each passing second. You instinctively climbed into his lap, feeling the familiar warmth of his hands roaming your body. He expertly removed your top without breaking the kiss for too long.

“Can I ask you something?” you murmured, your hand slipping into his pyjama pants. You quickly realised he wasn’t wearing any boxers, making it easy for you to feel his cock starting to harden as you stroked him slowly.

“Mhm.” he murmured back, his eyes closed as he sought your mouth again, not wanting to lose the contact.

“I wanna try doing that thing from earlier again.” you said, your voice shy but hopeful.

A smile spread across his lips, almost a purr, as he rubbed his nose against yours. “You want me to eat your ass again?” he chuckled, his breathing getting heavier under your touch.

“No...I wanna do it to you.” you admitted, feeling a surge of vulnerability at your bold request.

His smile faded, replaced by a look of surprise and slight tension. “I’m not sure...that’s different.” he said, his body stiffening at the idea.

“Why? It feels really good. I think you’d like it.” you insisted gently, your fingers still working to keep him aroused.

“I- I don’t know...I’ve never…” he paused, sighing deeply. “I’ve never done something like that. Wouldn’t it be, I don’t know...weird?”

You could see the hesitation in his eyes, a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. You leaned in, kissing him softly, trying to reassure him. “Why would it be weird?” you asked genuinely.

“I don’t know...it’s just...it’s different, okay?” His voice was almost a whisper, and you could feel the tension in his body. He was so rarely this shy, and it made you love him even more.

You kissed him again, slower this time, letting your lips linger on his. “Different doesn’t mean bad. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

He looked into your eyes, searching for reassurance. “I know.” he said softly. “It’s just...I’ve never thought about it before. I never imagined I’d want to try something like that.”

You smiled, your fingers gently tracing the lines of his jaw. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s fine, we can do other stuff, but I just…Nevermind.”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “No, it's okay that you asked. Really.”

You met his gaze, feeling a sense of relief. “We can take it slow.” you assured him, your voice gentle. “There's no rush.”

He nodded, his expression a mix of apprehension and curiosity. “I trust you.” he murmured, his voice gaining a bit more strength. “It’s just...I’m not used to feeling this way.”

You could see the thoughts racing through his mind, the internal struggle between wanting to try something new and the fear of the unknown. “What are you thinking?” you asked, wanting to understand his hesitation better.

He sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. “I think that maybe I do want to try it. I’ve never felt like this before, but with you...I don’t know, it feels different. Like it might be something I’d enjoy.”

You felt a surge of affection for him, appreciating his openness and willingness to explore something new. “We’ll figure it out together. I’ve never done this either, you know.” you said, your own shyness matching his.

He nodded again, his body relaxing slightly. “Yeah, okay.” he said, his voice steadier. “Let’s try it. But please, be gentle.”

You kissed him deeply, feeling the excitement coursing through you. “I will,” you assured him, your hand moving to caress his cheek, “I’ll be gentle.”

He smiled, the tension in his eyes easing as he let himself relax into your touch. “Thank you.” he whispered.

You nodded, kissing him deeply before shifting off his lap. You helped him out of his pants, revealing his erection. He was clearly aroused by the whole thing, his cock standing hard despite his initial hesitation. And you loved to see it. It reassured you that he wasn't just agreeing to please you, but was genuinely curious and open to the experience.

You guided him to lie back, his eyes never leaving yours, a mixture of trust and apprehension in his gaze. You started by kissing his thighs, your lips brushing against his skin, feeling him relax under your touch. Slowly, you worked your way closer, your kisses getting more deliberate and teasing.

“I think it would be better if you turned over to your front.” you whispered softly.

He looked at you, his apprehension clear, but after a moment he nodded. “Okay.” he said quietly. The idea of being so exposed to you made him a bit nervous, but he figured it would be more comfortable than lifting his legs and having you see his face at the same time.

He rolled onto his stomach, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. You ran your hands gently down his back, feeling him relax again under your touch. “Just tell me if it’s too much.” you murmured.

“Okay.” he replied, his voice muffled by the pillow but filled with trust.

You continued on your way down his body, your kisses trailing lower until you reached the curve of his ass. His breath hitched, and you could feel him tense up again.

“Sorry.” he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. “I'm nervous.”

You paused, kissing his lower back reassuringly, “Take your time.”

He took a deep breath, nodding slightly, and you felt him start to relax under your touch. You continued, your kisses growing more deliberate and soothing until his tension eased away completely.

This time, he didn’t tense up. You spread his cheeks gently, kissing the sensitive skin there, and he let out a soft moan, a mix of surprise and pleasure.

Your breath was warm against his skin. You flicked your tongue out, running it along his entrance, and felt him shiver beneath you, but you kept your movements gentle.

Alex gasped, his hands gripping the sheets. You took it slow, your tongue exploring him with care. You could feel him slowly start to relax again, his breaths coming in heavy, uneven sighs.

You felt a rush of excitement and nervousness yourself. You didn't fully know what to do, but you tried to guess what he would like, thinking back to what he had done to you earlier. You traced gentle circles with your tongue, exploring his most intimate spot with tentative, affectionate licks. His reactions were your guide, his soft gasps and moans spurring you on.

You pressed your tongue a little more firmly, trying to mimic the way he had lavished attention on you. It felt incredibly intimate, and you hoped he was feeling the same mix of pleasure and connection that you had felt. Each time he relaxed and let out a soft sound of enjoyment, it reassured you that you were on the right track.

The sensation was unlike anything he had experienced before. The warmth and softness of your tongue against such a sensitive area sent shivers of pleasure through his body. It was a delicate, electrifying feeling that made him acutely aware of every nerve ending. He felt very vulnerable. He had never let anyone touch him like this, and the trust he was letting himself place in you felt exhilarating.

The combination of actual pleasure he was feeling and the emotional connection made him feel exposed yet deeply cherished. He realised that this act wasn't just about the physical sensation, it was about the intimacy and trust shared between you. The way you explored him with such care that it made his heart swell. The mixture of apprehension and pleasure swirling within him only intensified his need, leaving him yearning for more of your touch.

You continued, growing more confident with each passing moment, savouring the way his body responded to your touch.

“It feels good.” you murmured between licks, feeling him shudder at your words. “I hope I’m doing this right.”

He moaned softly, the sound encouraging you to keep going. You worked him open with your tongue, pushing your tongue in just the slightest bit, you felt him tense and then relax, the intrusion turning into a new source of pleasure for him.

“Oh god.” he gasped, his voice shaky. “That…Fuck- keep doing it.”

You smiled against his skin, feeling a rush of satisfaction at his response. You continued your movements, your tongue pushing a bit deeper, the sensation of the wet muscle inside him driving him wild. His moans grew louder, his body trembling with pleasure.

Instinctively, he bent one of his legs on the bed, his knee lifting slightly as he arched his back, his body urging him to open up to you more. The motion gave you better access, and you pressed your tongue deeper, feeling the taste and warmth of him.

As he shifted, he could feel his hard cock brushing against the soft sheets, the friction adding to the pleasure he felt. His hand moved down between his legs, wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke it in rhythm with your tongue’s movements. He let out a low groan as he matched the pace of your pace, his movements slow and precise.

His breathing became more erratic, a mix of gasps and moans escaping his lips as he focused on both of the sensations. The heat of your tongue on his ass, combined with the steady rhythm of his own hand, pushed him closer. He bit his lip, trying to contain his sounds, though the pleasure was becoming overwhelming.

“I never knew...it could f- feel…this good." he managed to say between gasps.

You kept going, your own arousal building as you pleasured him. It was a new experience for both of you, but the trust between you made it feel natural, perfect even.

He could feel his cock pulsing in his hand, each stroke aligned with the flick of your tongue against his sensitive entrance. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, and he found himself moving his hips instinctively, trying to chase the feeling of your touch, wanting more.

“Don’t stop.” he pleaded, his voice needy and weak.

You had no intention of stopping, not until he was completely undone beneath you. Your tongue moved with purpose, pushing him closer and closer to the climax you knew was building inside him. The way you could feel his every reaction made it even more intense.

His fist moved faster around his cock, stroking himself with an urgent need. He moaned louder, his voice breaking with pleasure as he felt himself teetering on the edge. With one final, deep thrust of your tongue, he arched his back, his body bowing with the intensity of his release.

He cried out as he came, his hips bucking against the bed. His hand moved in a blur, stroking himself through it as his cum painted the sheets beneath him in hot, thick spurts. You didn’t stop, your tongue continuing to tease and pleasure him, prolonging his orgasm until he was utterly spent, his body trembling with the aftershocks and his moans turning into breathless gasps as he finally began to come down from the high.

You gently eased your tongue out, leaving soft kisses on his sensitive skin as he lay there, spent and trembling from the intensity of it all.

When you finally pulled back, he looked at you over his shoulder for a second, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He managed a tired but genuine smile, his eyes shining with satisfaction and a hint of shyness.

Then, with a soft laugh, he turned back and buried his face in the pillow, hugging it to himself as if trying to hide. His body curled slightly, the vulnerability of the moment making him endearingly shy.

“Fuck- That was…” he whispered, his muffled, “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

You smiled, crawling up to lie beside him, your own body buzzing with satisfaction. “I’m glad you liked it.” you said softly, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on his back. “I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right.”

He turned his head slightly, peeking out from the pillow. “You were amazing.” he murmured, a small, appreciative smile tugging at his lips. “I never thought I’d be into something like that, but…wow.”

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words as he reached out, intertwining his fingers with yours.

A few days later, you had settled into the rhythm of your new ‘summer home’ so to speak. The place that had once felt foreign now felt familiar.

But today was different. Today was the day you would meet Alex’s parents.

As he drove you both to their house, you couldn’t help but feel a knot of nervousness in your stomach. Maybe more than just one knot. The drive was scenic, with the town blurring past, but your thoughts were elsewhere.

Alex, however, seemed completely at ease, his arm casually draped out the open window, his other hand steady on the steering wheel. The wind tousled his hair, and every now and then, he’d glance over at you and smile. Those smiles were like a pill, easing your anxiety. You had him. Remembering you had him felt a surge of reassurance.

As you approached the door, the nervousness you’d felt earlier began to ebb away, replaced by a sense of calm. You had Alex by your side, and that was all you needed. The rest would fall into place.

“So,” Alex said, breaking the comfortable silence, “Any last minute questions before we go in there?”

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “Nope. I’m ready.”

He gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and a quick kiss on the top of your head before knocking on the door. The sound echoed briefly, followed by the muffled sounds of footsteps approaching. The door swung open to reveal his mother’s warm, welcoming smile.

“Alex!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a hug before turning to you. “And you must be his lady now. Lovely to finally meet you.” Alex’s father appeared behind her, offering a friendly wave.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you as you stepped into their home. Alex kept his hand on the small of your back, guiding you inside, his presence a constant source of comfort.

As the initial introductions were made and you settled into their cosy living room, you felt the last remnants of your nerves dissipate. Alex’s parents were kind and welcoming, making you feel instantly at ease.

Everything was going well until they eventually asked how the two of you met. You didn’t know what to say, or what Alex would have wanted you to say, so you let him answer instead. You could notice how he instantly tensed up, his shoulders stiffening as he debated internally what he should say.

You could feel his hesitation as he finally spoke. “We met at the university.” he said carefully, his voice steady but betraying a hint of unease. “She was my student, and...well, she still is.”

His parents exchanged a quick glance, the briefest flicker of surprise crossing their faces, but they didn’t say anything about it. Sensing how Alex didn’t want to dwell on the topic, they quickly jumped to a different subject.

You breathed a silent sigh of relief as the tension began to dissolve, grateful for the change in topic. Alex’s hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He glanced at you, a small, apologetic smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You squeezed back, letting him know it was okay.

“So, what are your plans for the summer?” his mother said brightly, steering the conversation towards safer waters.

Alex took a moment, his hand tightening slightly around yours. “Well,” he began, “We’re going to be staying here, at my old place, to get away from-” He stopped himself, shaking his head as if to clear away the thought. “Anyways,” he continued, offering a small smile, “She’s from here too, so…yeah.”

His parents smiled warmly, and his father nodded. “It’s always nice to come back home.” he said. “There’s something special about this place.”

You felt Alex relax beside you, the tension easing from his shoulders. The conversation flowed more easily after that, the initial awkwardness dissipating as his parents asked about your favourite spots in town and shared stories from Alex’s childhood.

By the end of the evening, you felt a sense of accomplishment and relief. Meeting his parents had been a significant step, and despite the brief moment of tension, it had gone well, you thought. As you and Alex prepared to leave, his mother pulled you into a warm hug.

“It was so lovely to meet you, dear.” she said sincerely. “We’re glad Alex brought you here.”

“Thank you,” you replied, smiling. “I’m glad too.”

As you stepped outside, Alex noticed a subtle look from his mother, a mixture of concern and unspoken words. He turned to you and suggested, “Why don’t you drive us back now? Go ahead and get the car started, and roll the windows down so it can cool off a bit.”

“Sure.” you agreed, and he gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before you walked toward the car.

Once you were out of earshot, Alex turned back to his parents, his stomach knotting with anxiety. He could tell something was wrong. His mother’s warm demeanour shifted slightly, replaced by a more serious expression.

“Alex,” she began, her voice gentle but firm, “She’s lovely, truly. But are you sure this is right, considering you’re her professor?”

Her words hit him like a ton of bricks. All those thoughts he had worked so hard to bury came rushing back, a torrent of doubt and self-recrimination. He had convinced himself that what he felt for you was genuine, that your relationship was built on mutual respect and affection. But now, standing there with his parents’ concerned eyes on him, the uncertainty clawed at him.

Is it wrong? he thought, his mind spiralling. Are they suggesting I’m taking advantage of you?

Am I?

His father chimed in, “We just want to make sure you’ve thought this through. There are power dynamics at play, and it can get complicated.”

Alex felt his heart race, a mix of guilt, fear, and defensiveness churning inside him. “I love her.” he said, his voice tinged with desperation. “It’s not about power or control or anything like that. It’s real.”

His mother reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “We know you believe that, Alex. We just want to make sure you’re both aware of the potential repercussions.”

He nodded, feeling a wave of frustration. “I’ve thought about it. Trust me. I’ve tried to be careful, to make sure this is right for both of us but…” His voice trailed off, the whole situation pressing down on him.

He could see you in the distance, waiting by the car, oblivious to the storm of emotions raging inside him now. He wanted to protect you, to shield you from any harm or judgement. But the doubts were insidious, creeping into his mind and casting shadows over everything.

As he walked back to the car, his steps felt heavy, burdened by the weight of his parents’ words. Sliding into the passenger seat, he forced a smile, not wanting to worry you. But the questions lingered, gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.

“Ready?” you asked, glancing over at him.

“Yeah.” he replied, his voice strained. “Let’s go.”

As you drove away, he stared out the window, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He loved you, that much he was sure of. But now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he had been fooling himself all along.

Back at home, you noticed Alex's mood had shifted dramatically compared to how he was before you left. As soon as you walked through the door, he went straight to the sofa without saying a word, his usual warmth replaced by a cold, distant silence. The drive had been uncharacteristically quiet, and now he had turned the TV on to some random sports channel, his eyes fixed on the screen but not really watching it.

You sat next to him, close enough to lean into him and press soft kisses down his jawline. Slowly easing your way into his lap, you brushed his hair out of his face, hoping to draw him out of whatever was bothering him. He felt the warmth of your touch, the familiar comfort of your affection, and part of him wanted to melt into you. But those nagging thoughts were still at the forefront of his mind, casting a heavy shadow over his heart and clouding his feelings.

You felt his lack of response, but you assumed he was just being moody or tired like he sometimes was and he needed a little push. Determined to lift his spirits, you started grinding your hips onto him, giggling softly as you kissed down his neck. Your hand moved to palm him over his pants, expecting to feel him harden under your touch. But he wasn't. And usually he would have been by now.

“Come on, Mr. Turner.” you whispered playfully, trying to tease him into responding.You kissed him again, trying to coax a reaction out of him. He tried pulling his head away, a move that felt like a knife to his heart because he didn’t want to reject you, but he couldn’t reciprocate either.

The playful use of his title only made things worse for him. The reminder of it reinforced everything that made this wrong in his mind. It brought back all the doubts, the guilt, the feeling that he was crossing a line that shouldn’t be crossed. He felt a wave of nausea and self-loathing wash over him, his body stiffening in response.

“Stop.” he said, his tone harsher and more hostile than you’d ever heard it. He gently pushed you off his lap, his touch firm and reluctant. The tension in his voice and the force of his words struck you deeply.

You were stunned, feeling a mixture of hurt and confusion. He propped his legs up on the small table in front of the sofa, keeping his gaze stubbornly focused on the game playing on the TV. He didn’t even look back at you, his silence and cold demeanour making you feel almost discarded in a way.

“I’m going to bed.” you said softly, the pain evident in your voice, hoping he would at least acknowledge your departure with more than just a word.

“Goodnight.” he muttered, not even turning to face you.

As you walked back to the bedroom, you glanced at him one last time. He looked distant, a storm of emotions brewing beneath his calm exterior. You closed the door behind you, feeling a knot in your stomach, the weight of his rejection heavy on your heart. He was never like this.

Alex sat there, his eyes fixed on the TV but his mind a chaotic mess. Hearing the door close behind you, he felt a wave of anger directed at himself. He hated how he had acted towards you, how he had pushed you away for no apparent reason. You didn’t know what his parents had said to him that made him feel like this. But it wasn’t their fault either. It was him. He was the one who couldn’t get past those doubts, those fears that maybe he was doing something wrong, maybe this relationship was wrong.

“Fuck.” he muttered under his breath, his fists clenching in frustration. The guilt and self-loathing were suffocating, and he wished more than anything that he could just turn off his brain and let himself be happy with you. The realisation that he was hurting you, pushing you away when all he wanted was to hold you close, only made the turmoil inside him worse. He felt trapped by his own thoughts, unable to find a way to reconcile his love for you with the doubts that had been planted in his mind.

You sat in bed, staring at the ceiling, and you waited for him, the sheets cool and unfamiliar without his warmth beside you. You couldn’t fall asleep. You had grown used to having him there beside you basically every night. And your mind racing with questions and concerns. Why had he been so cold all of a sudden?

You watched the light from the TV in the other room flicker through the slight gap under the door, the shadows dancing and shifting with every change on the screen, just a reminder of the distance he set between you. You watched as it played out, casting shifting shadows in the room, hoping he would come to you.

He did come into the room at one point and, instinctively, you pretended to be asleep. Why? You didn’t fully understand, but that’s what you felt like doing. Maybe it was because you weren’t ready to face whatever it was that had caused this shift in him. He was only inside for a short couple of moments, though. You could hear him moving around, opening and fiddling through the drawers, rustling through his things. It was probably the one where he kept his sleep clothes. He stayed just long enough to grab whatever it was he needed, and then he left.

Though you couldn’t see it, Alex did pause by the door, his eyes taking in the sight of you lying there. As he stood there, watching you from the doorway, his chest tightening, he could tell you weren’t really asleep. He had watched you too many times to be fooled. The gentle rise and fall of your breathing, the slight tension in your body. He memorised it all. He knew you were awake. He could see the tension in the way you lay, the slight rigidity that betrayed you.

He just wanted to slip right beside you so badly, feeling undeniably drawn to you, to the point where he felt empty without you. He wanted nothing more than to hold you and feel your warmth against him. There was a gaping hole inside of him that could only be filled by you. He was utterly infatuated with everything you did. The way you walked, the way you spoke, even just the way you breathed. Every part of you drew him in, made him feel complete in a way nothing else could.

Tell me what to do with all this love…

The silent plea echoed in his mind as he watched you. He didn't know if he was asking you or himself. The confusion and self-doubt were overwhelming, but the love he felt for you was undeniable.

Finally, with a heavy heart, feeling like he wasn’t only betraying you, but himself, he turned and left the room, returning to his spot on the couch. The TV's flickering light cast shadows across his face, but all he could see was the image of you lying in bed, waiting for him. He didn't know how to make things right, how to reconcile his love for you with the doubts that plagued him. All he knew was that he needed you, more than he'd ever needed anything in his life. But would that be right of him?

The next morning, you woke up to an empty house. At some point, exhaustion had overtaken you, and you did fall asleep, but it was restless, punctuated by uneasy dreams. Now, as you moved through the quiet, unfamiliar space, you felt a growing sense of displacement. The place already felt new to you, and without him there, you felt out of place, like you didn’t belong there.

You went to the kitchen to drink some water and make coffee, trying to shake off the weirdness from the night before. The silence was odd, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves coming from the open window. The loneliness of the house pressed down on you, making you feel even more out of place. As you sipped your drink, the quiet enveloped you, a stark contrast to the usual rhythm you got into for your mornings with Alex.

Then, suddenly, you heard the sound of the lock turning and the door opening, breaking the silence. You stayed in your place, feeling a mix of anticipation and uncertainty, unsure what to expect. Your heart beat faster as you waited to see what he would do.

Alex walked in, his steps soft and hesitant. He came up behind you, his presence a familiar and comforting weight as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, a part of you relaxing. He must’ve been out for quite a while, you could smell the faint scent of sweat clinging to him. Maybe he’d been for a run. Possibly. But he didn’t say anything to you. Despite everything, his touch was still a comfort.

He leaned into you, his head resting on your shoulder. The silence between you was heavy with unspoken words. As he held you, he wished he could find the right ones to explain, to make you understand what he was feeling, make sense of the mess inside him. But it didn't even make sense to him. He felt the need to apologise, to reassure you, but the words seemed stuck in his throat. Instead, he held you tighter, his embrace a silent plea for forgiveness and understanding.

Holding you in his arms, he felt a mixture of relief and anguish. The scent of your hair, the feel and warmth of your body against his, the softness of you…it was everything he needed and more. He inhaled deeply, wishing he could have your scent permanently embedded in his nostrils, a constant reminder of the love you brought him. He wanted to tell you how much he needed you, how much he loved you, but all he could manage was to hold you closer, hoping that somehow you could feel it.

For a long moment, the two of you stayed like that. Alex's mind raced with thoughts, each one more confusing than the last. He wanted to be better for you, to be the man you deserved, but the doubts gnawed at him, making him question everything.

“I…” he started, but the words failed him. Instead, he held you even tighter, his arms a little more desperate. He would give anything to make things right, to have you understand the chaos inside his mind. Yet, all he could do was hold you.

You leaned back into him, your hand reaching up to touch his arm. You sat there, feeling the weight of his head on your shoulder, the tension in his embrace. You wanted to turn around and face him, to ask him what was wrong, but you also feared the answer. Instead, you leaned into his touch, hoping that your presence could offer some relief to whatever was going on.

The following few days were a careful dance around the unspoken obvious tension between you. At least Alex was talking to you again, which felt like a step in the right direction. However, each conversation was laced with an awkwardness, a silent agreement, that you didn’t actually really agree to, of avoiding the topic that hung between you. He only gathered the courage to speak to you when he sensed that you wouldn’t push him to explain. Deep down, he knew you should have. He shouldn’t get away with avoiding it. But the thought of talking about it felt hopeless, like it would break him.

You noticed his distance, the way he seemed to calculate every move around you. His touches were rare and hesitant, limited to a quick hug or a kiss on the forehead. There was an invisible barrier between you, a rupture that hadn’t existed before that night. Each day, you hoped for a sign that things would return to normal, but the uncertainty lingered.

Alex felt trapped in his own mind, wrestling with the guilt and confusion that plagued him. Every interaction with you was followed by the fear that he was doing something wrong, that he was hurting you in ways he couldn’t quite understand. The memory of his parents' words gnawed at him as a constant reminder of the doubts he couldn’t shake off.

Despite his internal struggle, he tried to act normal, to go through the motions of your daily routines. There were moments when he would catch himself staring at you, overwhelmed by his feelings, and he’d have to look away, afraid you’d see the change in his eyes. He wanted to reach out, to hold you close and let you know how much he loved you, but the fear of his own inadequacy held him back.

You, on the other hand, were caught between giving him space and wanting to confront the issue head-on. The silence was deafening, and the lack of physical affection felt like a gaping hole in your relationship. But you held back, hoping that he would open up to you.

Even with his best efforts to maintain some semblance of normalcy, the distance between you grew more pronounced each night. He still wasn’t sleeping with you. Literally just sleeping. He wasn’t sleeping in the same bed. Though, he pretended to. He came to bed, lying beside you, but after a while, you could always feel him leave. He tried to be quiet, but the absence of his warmth in the middle of the night was impossible to ignore.

You knew he was trying to avoid confronting whatever was bothering him. He knew that you knew, no matter how many times he would say that he just woke up earlier or couldn’t sleep. It was no use. The bed felt emptier without him, and the lies, as well-intentioned as they might have been, stung each time.

He would slip out to the living room, sinking into the sofa where he could hide for a little while longer. As he lay there, staring at the ceiling, he could feel the weight of his own insufficiency pressing down on him. He missed you, missed the comfort and the intimacy that came with sharing a bed. Everything would twist in his stomach, making it hard to breathe. He longed to return to you, to hold you and let you know that everything would be alright. But he couldn’t shake the fear that he was failing you, that he was somehow not enough.

You, lying awake in the bedroom, could hear the faint sounds of him settling into the sofa, the creak of the springs, the rustle of the blankets. The place felt too big, too quiet without him beside you. Each night, as you lay there, you tried to think of ways to reach him, to break through the wall he had built around himself. But the fear of pushing him too hard, of driving him further away, held you back. So you waited for him. Waited. And waited.

In the early hours of the morning, he would sometimes drift back into the bedroom, hoping you were asleep so he wouldn’t have to face the disappointment in your eyes. He would lie down beside you, trying to pretend that he had been there all along. But you always knew. His movements were too careful, too deliberate.

One evening, as you sat on the couch reading a book, Alex walked in and hesitated before sitting next to you. He glanced at you, his eyes filled with a mix of longing and regret. “Hey.” he said softly, his voice breaking the silence that had settled between you.

“Hey.” you replied, looking up from your book and offering him a small smile.

“I’ve been thinking…” he began, then paused, struggling to find the right words. “Look, I- I know I haven’t been myself lately. And…I’m sorry for that. I just…Can I come to bed with you tonight?”

You looked at him, seeing the vulnerability etched on his face. “I didn’t ever not want you there, Alex.” you said gently. “You don’t need to ask. It’s your house.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know it’s my house.” he said, his voice tinged with frustration and sadness. “But it’s not about that. I want to know that you want me there…that you’re okay with me being there.”

Alex’s eyes searched yours, looking for some reassurance. He looked tired, evident in the lines on his face and the tension in his posture. His usual demeanour was replaced with a tentative, more or less boyish uncertainty. His gaze flickered between your eyes and the floor as he spoke, as if he couldn’t bear to fully face the possibility of rejection.

You could see it in his eyes, the fear that he was losing you, the contradicting desperate hope that you still wanted him despite everything. His voice wavered slightly, betraying him. “I want to be with you.” he continued.

You reached out, placing your hand on his. “I want you there, Alex. I want you with me.” you said, your voice soft but firm. “I’m okay with you being there. I need you there.”

A flicker of relief crossed his face, and he squeezed your hand gently, holding onto it like a lifeline. He nodded, taking a deep breath as if trying to steady himself. “Thank you.” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I…I’ll do better. I promise.”

He looked at you, and you could see how much he was struggling to hold it all together. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he seemed to take comfort in your words, drawing some strength from your reassurance.

For a moment, the room was filled with a silence that wasn’t oppressive this time. You leaned in, resting your head against his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. The connection between you, though strained, was still there.

He held you, his heart pounding with the momentary relief and still lingering anxiety. He wanted to believe that everything would be okay, that he could overcome the doubts that had been eating away at him. As he sat there with you, he felt a glimmer of hope, a fragile but precious thread that he was determined to hold onto.

Later, you both prepared for bed, like usual. You could sense Alex’s nervous energy as he emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of old loose gym shorts and a well-worn, faded t-shirt that hung slightly off his shoulders. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to gather his courage for what came next.

When he finally joined you in bed, he hesitated at the edge, as if unsure of his place. He slipped under the covers, keeping to his side, his body stiff and uncertain. You could feel the gap between you, like a physical barrier of the distance that had crept in. It wasn't what you wanted, and you knew it wasn't what he wanted either.

“Come closer.” you whispered, your voice cutting through the quiet of the room. You reached back, turning slightly, your fingers brushing against his arm, urging him to move.

He glanced at you and, after a moment, he slowly scooted over, the mattress shifting under his weight as his body inched closer to yours. As he positioned himself behind you, you felt the warmth of his presence, his warm breath on the back of your neck, a comfort you had missed dearly. Cautiously, he started to play with your hair, his fingers tracing gentle patterns in it on the pillow. The repetitive motion was soothing, a small gesture that made you feel a bit better.

You reached back, taking his arm and moving it over your waist, pulling him closer. He responded, wrapping his arm around you, his grip timid at first but growing more secure as you shuffled back into him, pressing your body against his, moulding to him.

Alex's breath hitched slightly as you entwined your legs with his, rubbing against him, the soft hairs on his legs brushing over your skin. He tightened his hold on you, his arm resting firmly over your waist, his fingers tracing light, absentminded patterns on your stomach.

The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against your back, the warmth of his breath on your neck, the gentle pressure of his arm around your waist…it was all so achingly familiar. The tension of the past days seemed to melt away, replaced by a delicate sense of serenity. The doubts and fears that had plagued his mind still lingered, but they felt more distant, taking the backseat, overshadowed by the sheer feeling of you so close, the scent of your hair, the feel of your skin against his, the way you fit perfectly into the curve of his body.

He marvelled at how something so simple could feel so right and wrong at the same time. He tightened his grip around your waist even more, his fingers splaying out over your stomach, holding you as if you might slip away. The thought of being without this was unbearable.

In the morning, very early, you stirred from sleep. The faint light of sunrise seeping through the gaps in the curtains cast a soft glow over the room. You blinked a few times, your eyes adjusting to the dim light, and became aware of the comforting weight of Alex's arm draped over your waist.

Still half asleep, you felt a slight, rhythmic movement against you. It took a moment for your foggy mind to process what was happening, but then you realised. Alex was still in the same position you both had fallen asleep in, his body pressed closely against yours. He must have been dreaming, unaware of his actions, but you could feel him hard against you, his arousal unmistakable as he unconsciously rubbed himself against you.

The sensation stirred something within you, longing. You just wanted to lay back in his tenderness. You missed this closeness, this intimacy that had been so absent in the past few days. You could feel the shape of him, the firmness, and it awakened a need in you that you had pushed aside for too long already.

You stayed still, savouring the moment, the feel of him against you. His breath was warm against your neck, his grip around your waist tightening slightly as he moved. You could sense his need, even in his sleep, and it mirrored your own.

Slowly, you pressed back into him, encouraging the contact, your body responding to his in a way that felt so natural. You shifted slightly, adjusting your position to align with him better, feeling a wave of warmth spread through you as his movements became more insistent, and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the sensation, the familiar rhythm of his body against yours, the heat of his skin, the sound of his breathing.

His body continued to move against yours, a soft, involuntary groan escaping his lips as he gradually became more conscious. The sound was low and throaty, a mix of desire and the remnants of sleep, and it sent a shiver down your spine. His grip on your waist tightened momentarily, his fingers digging into your skin to keep you pressed up against him.

You turned your head slightly, whispering his name softly. “Alex…”

He stilled instantly, the fog of sleep lifting as he became aware of what he was doing. You felt him tense, his body going rigid behind you. For a moment, there was silence, then he let out a shaky breath, another soft groan escaping his lips as he processed the situation.

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, the word telling of his obvious arousal and frustration. His breath was hot against your neck, and you could feel his heart pounding against your back.

“I'm sorry.” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep and something else. Guilt, perhaps. “I didn't mean to…”

You turned in his arms, facing him. His eyes were wide, filled with a mix of embarrassment and regret. You reached up, cupping his face, wanting to press a gentle kiss to his lips but he turned away before you could.

Suddenly, he got up from the bed, wiping his tired eyes and adjusting his erection in his shorts so it wouldn’t be as obvious to you as he walked to the bathroom, even though he clearly knew you were aware of the situation going on down there. He went into the bathroom with a quick, almost desperate stride, unintentionally closing the door harshly behind him. The loud sound woke him even more and brought him back to reality.

Inside, he braced himself by the sink, his hands gripping the edge tightly. He pondered whether he should look at himself in the mirror or not but decided it would be better not to. The sight of his own reflection would only deepen his frustration and guilt. He turned on the shower, the sound of the rushing water filling the small room.

He couldn’t stand to look down and see his erection straining against the material of his shorts, thinking of how he had been rubbing up against you. No. With a sense of urgency and frustration, he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower, turning the knob to the coldest setting. He stood under the stream of cold water, hoping it would just go down. But he couldn’t help himself. The cold water wasn’t enough to subside the heat of his arousal. The memory of your warmth, the feel of your body against his, the soft way you whispered his name, it was all too much.

His hand moved instinctively, wrapping around his cock, and he stood there as the water poured over his back. The cold did little to help him. Instead, the stark contrast of the water against his heated skin only seemed to heighten the sensations. His movements were quick and desperate as he began to stroke himself. He leaned against the cool tile wall, his other hand splayed out for support. His breath came in short heavy bursts as he pumped faster and faster.

It didn’t take long for him to come, the pressure building rapidly as he moved his hand. The pent-up desire and frustration made the release quick and intense. His breathing was ragged, each exhale mixing with the rhythmic splashing of the water. He couldn’t even find the strength to hide his sounds. You could hear him from the bedroom. The sharp intake of breath, the soft, involuntary moans, the groans that grew louder as he approached his climax.

His head fell back as he came, the water splashing his face and mixing with the sweat and tears he didn’t even realise were there. He could feel his cum spilling out and saw as it was beginning to mingle with the water before quickly getting washed down the drain, leaving him feeling both relieved and more frustrated than ever.

As he stood there, catching his breath, the reality of the situation settled in. The cold water continued to pour over him, a reminder of his attempts to distance himself from you, and the failure of those attempts. He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of his own conflicted emotions bearing down on him. He wished he could find a way to make sense of it all. But for now, all he could do was stand there, letting the water wash away the evidence of his need.

A few days after that morning, the tension between you and Alex remained unspoken. Neither of you mentioned what had happened, and while you tried to back off, the emotional distance was becoming unbearable. You found yourselves in the bedroom together again, sat in bed next to each other, the faint sound of music playing from the other room from when you ate dinner.

You thought that maybe, just maybe, tonight would be different. Maybe he would warm up to you this time. You shifted closer to Alex, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. He didn't pull away. You leaned in more, pressing soft kisses to his face and, again, he didn't seem to mind. Encouraged, you kissed his lips, an unsure, testing gesture. And to your relief, he reciprocated, kissing you back. There was a tentative quality to his movements, but the softness in his touch was unmistakable and it made your heart ache.

As he kissed you, Alex felt a whirlwind of emotions. The warmth of your lips against his, the familiarity of your touch, everything he had been missing. The longing he had kept at bay surged forward, mingling with guilt and fear. He wanted to lose himself in the moment, to let go of the doubts and everything, but they clung to him, a persistent shadow. He wanted this, wanted you, but it all gnawed at him, making him question if he deserved it. Each kiss felt like a lifeline.

Your desperation grew as you felt him respond. You climbed into his lap, kissing him harder, your tongue slipping inside his mouth. You tugged at his hair, the intensity of finally tasting him again overwhelming your senses.

Alex's heart pounded in his chest, a mix of arousal and an underlying sense of unworthiness. He felt himself getting hard beneath you, a physical reaction that clashed with his emotions. He wanted to give in, to let himself be with you completely, but something held him back. Alongside the physical desire was a persistent sense of unease. He still didn’t feel like he should allow himself to get horny around you, the lingering guilt making it hard for him to fully give in to the moment. He was torn between the intense need for you and the fear that he was doing something wrong.

You could feel his body responding, feel him growing hard underneath you. As you kept making out, grinding your hips and losing yourself in the moment, you started to notice his movements faltering. The rhythm you had built together began to stutter, and it then registered to you that something was wrong. Only then you noticed the wetness on his cheeks.

You pulled back to look at him, your eyes widening and your heart sinking as you saw the tears streaming down his face. Alex quickly covered himself with his hands, bending his head down in an attempt to hide. His body shook with silent sobs, the dam of emotions he had been holding back finally breaking.

“Alex…” you whispered, your heart breaking at the sight of him. You reached out, trying to comfort him, but he pulled away slightly, still hiding his face.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out between sobs, “I just… I-”

He shook his head, his shoulders shaking with silent cries. You felt a wave of helplessness wash over you. You wanted to fix it, to make everything right, but you didn’t know how. All you could do was hold him. You gently pried his hands away from his face, revealing the raw pain in his eyes. The vulnerability you saw there broke your heart.

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away his tears. “It’s okay.” you said softly, trying to soothe him. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

He leaned into your touch, his tears still falling, but the weight on his chest felt a little lighter knowing that you were there. He looked at you, his eyes red and filled with anguish, and for the first time, you saw the full extent of it, of everything he’d been struggling with.

He just cried, and you felt helpless, unable to find the words or actions to make it better. You held him, feeling the tremors of his sobs against your body, wishing you could fix it all.

After what felt like an eternity, he moved suddenly, pulling your top over your head with a desperate urgency. Confusion washed over you as he started to push down his own sweatpants. You tried to stop him, your hands on his, asking, “What are you doing?”

His response was wordless, pushing your hands away. He tugged down your shorts, flipping you over so you were face down on the bed. He couldn’t look at you. His weight pressed you into the mattress, a mixture of comfort and confinement. It would have been everything you wanted if it weren't for the sound of his crying still coming from behind you.

You could feel him against you, still hard, his body moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The sensation was intoxicating, but the context made it bittersweet. You could feel the desperation in his movements, the way his hips ground against you. He adjusted slightly, his hand guiding himself between your thighs.

When he entered you, both of you gasped at the intense, familiar feeling. His gasp was caught in his throat, his breath hitching as he struggled to breathe through the sobs. You felt a mix of pleasure and pain, it felt good, but it was confusing.

He began to move inside you, his pace slow and unsure. You could feel his tears on your back, the occasional sob breaking through his heavy breathing. It was as if he was trying to find his answers in the physical connection, a way to drown out everything in his mind. His movements were a strange combination of tenderness and desperation, each thrust a silent plea for comfort and understanding.

Your own emotions were a whirlwind. You wanted to be there for him, to make him feel better, but the intensity of the situation left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. You reached back, trying to touch him, but he was lost in his own world.

“Alex.” you whispered, your voice trembling. “It’s fine…you- you don’t have to.”

He didn’t respond, his focus entirely on the act, as if it was the only way he could express what he was feeling. The tears continued to flow, mingling with the sweat on his face. His sobs were quieter now, but the pain was still palpable.

Despite everything, there was a certain release in the act. You could feel him pouring everything into each movement, trying to find some relief, a way to cope with the overwhelming feelings inside him.

As the moments stretched on, you felt a shift. His movements became more steady, the desperation easing slightly as he found a rhythm. His grip on your hips tightened, his body pressing more firmly against yours. The intensity was still there, but there was also a hint of something else. Perhaps acceptance. Or a fleeting sense of peace.

Finally, he came, his body tensing as he shuddered, his breath hot against your skin. His sobs mingled with the sounds of his release as you felt him spill inside you, his grip loosening as the last of the pleasure coursed through him.

He collapsed onto you. His breath was ragged, his body trembling slightly. You lay there, both of you trying to process the moment. The room was filled with the sound of your breathing, the aftermath of his emotional storm.

After a while, he rolled off you, lying beside you on the bed. He looked at you, his eyes red and swollen. But he finally looked at you, fully.

“I’m lonely,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “Horribly lonely because of this love I feel for you, and I don’t know what to do with it. It feels like I’m right back at the beginning…But when we’re together, it’s like we melt into each other. Like we’re edged with mist…making an unsubstantial territory.”

His words hung in the air, unfiltered. You moved carefully back into his lap, straddling him again. This time, there was no rush, just a gentle persistence. You began to pull his shirt off, your hands moving with a slow, deliberate intent. He wanted to stop you at first, his hands catching yours, but you whispered, “Let me move.”

He let go, his hands falling to his sides. “Just lay back.” you said, hugging him close, pressing your naked chest to his. You felt his skin stick to yours, a mingling of warmth and sweat. “Why won’t you let me love you?” you asked, your voice breaking slightly.

“I want to,” he murmured, “I want to fill you with the sweetest love…all over.”

“All over?” you repeated, the words tasting like a promise.

He nodded, his eyes locking onto yours. “All over.”

“Then don’t try to fight it.” you told him, your tone gentle but firm.

You felt his resistance waver, his hands moving to cup your face, pulling you into a tender kiss. This time, there was no desperation, only a deep, abiding love. His lips moved slowly against yours, savouring it. You could feel the shift in him, the way he began to relax into your touch, the tension melting away.

a/n: i know his change in behaviour seems a bit harsh and out of nowhere but i hope you can see what i tried to convey. it ends a bit abruptly but he’ll get back to normal soon. and sorry if there are any mistakes or bits that don’t make sense but it’s a lot and i kept staring at it for way too long😭

tags: @4chaos @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @hellcatshalalalaa @zayndrider @humbuginmybones

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #alex turner fluff #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #smut #goblinontour #mr turner

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girl-next-door-writes · 25 days ago

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Defrosted

Characters: Mycroft Holmes x reader

Summary: After a grueling day, you return home, weary and stressed. But behind closed doors, the icy, calculating Mycroft Holmes melts for you alone, showing a rare tenderness.

Word Count: 1291 words

A/N: This is a mixture of requests from @anonymousmarvelfan, @howaboutlunch, @savvy-devine666, @but-hey-could-be-satan. It’s been sitting in my WIP file for a while, so I hope the final version is what you were hoping for.

The London air bit sharply through the autumn night as you pushed the door open, peeling off your damp coat with a sigh that held the weight of the day’s troubles. Exhaustion clung to you like a heavy cloak, your thoughts dulled by the long hours of tense meetings and endless paperwork. A familiar chill hung in the air, reminding you of the looming winter and the comfort of the warmth inside your home.

And then there was Mycroft.

You found him in the sitting room, seated in his usual armchair by the fire, a thick book in his hands and his brow knitted in concentration. The firelight danced over his angular features, casting shadows that softened the harsh lines of his face. He glanced up at the sound of your entrance, his expression still the practiced neutrality he wore like armor, yet there was a flicker of something warmer in his gaze.

"My dear," he greeted, voice smooth and unperturbed. “You’re home late.”

The corners of your lips lifted into a weary smile as you approached him, sinking into the sofa opposite his chair. “Yes, well, not everyone can be as fortunate as the British government’s top strategist. Some of us still have to suffer through rush-hour traffic and unreasonable supervisors.”

A small, wry smile tugged at his lips. "Indeed. I suppose not everyone can delegate quite so effectively." He closed his book with a quiet thud, setting it aside on the mahogany side table. “You look exhausted.”

You gave a noncommittal hum, your body sagging against the cushions. “That’s one way to put it. It’s just been… one of those days.”

He rose to his feet with the kind of languid grace that spoke of countless years perfecting even the smallest of movements, as if the very act of standing could be an art form. His gaze swept over you, and in the quiet moments that followed, the transformation began—the slow thawing of the ice around him.

"Wait here," he instructed softly, before disappearing down the hallway.

When he returned, he was carrying a pair of fluffy slippers, the ones you kept tucked away at the back of the closet. He knelt before you, an unexpected gesture that pulled you from your fatigue-induced haze, and with the same careful precision he applied to everything else in life, he slipped them onto your feet. His fingers brushed against your skin, and you could swear you felt the faintest spark of warmth where they touched.

"Come," he said, standing again and extending a hand towards you. "Dinner is nearly ready."

You allowed him to lead you into the dining room, where the rich aroma of a simmering meal filled the air, the scent of garlic, rosemary, and roasted vegetables weaving together in an enticing blend. On the table sat two place settings, a bottle of your favorite wine, and a dish covered to keep the heat trapped inside. It was a sight that instantly made the day’s stress seem like a distant memory.

"You cooked?" you asked, incredulous as you took in the scene.

"I’m fully capable of following basic culinary instructions," he replied dryly, though there was a trace of amusement in his eyes. "Now sit, and allow me the rare pleasure of serving you."

The meal was simple but delicious—a roasted chicken, golden potatoes, and seasoned vegetables, paired perfectly with the deep, velvety wine. Mycroft poured your glass first, as he always did, with the kind of etiquette that had become second nature to him.

As you ate, the tension slowly ebbed from your muscles, replaced by a gentle warmth that spread through you, not just from the meal or the fire, but from the quiet intimacy of sharing this moment. Mycroft, usually terse and preoccupied, allowed himself to relax, his features softening as he listened to your accounts of the day. He commented occasionally, offering wry observations that made you laugh and rolled his eyes at the absurdity of office politics.

When you had finished, he was already ahead of you, standing to clear the dishes before you could insist on doing it yourself. "None of that, now," he chided. "You are under strict orders to relax."

As he moved about the kitchen, he carried himself with the same air of precision, each step purposeful, each motion refined. You observed him as he worked, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest. It wasn’t often that you were graced with this side of Mycroft Holmes—the attentive partner who pampered and doted, albeit in his own way. It was a side that the rest of the world would never see. To them, he was the British government, a man of intellect and authority wrapped in a cold, imposing exterior. But to you, he was something more—someone who had learned to defrost in the presence of love.

When he returned, his sleeves rolled up and his usual sternness tempered by the gentleness in his gaze, he reached for your hand. "Come," he said, his voice softening. "There’s something else I’d like to show you."

He led you to the bathroom, where a bath had already been drawn, the surface of the water shimmering with fragrant oils and surrounded by the glow of a dozen flickering candles. The warmth of the room wrapped around you like a blanket, chasing away the last remnants of the chill that had clung to you all day.

Mycroft’s hands moved to remove your clothing with a practiced ease that spoke of the years you had shared together. “You’ve earned this,” he murmured against your ear, his breath warm on your skin. "Now, enjoy it."

Once you were immersed in the bath, the heat soaking into your tired muscles, he did not leave as you expected. Instead, he took a seat on the nearby stool, his long fingers deftly massaging your temples, trailing down the back of your neck, tracing a line of warmth along your spine. It was a kind of care you knew he would never show to anyone else, a private language spoken only in the sanctuary of your shared life.

For a man so famously detached, his touch held a surprising amount of tenderness. It was as though the very act of tending to you brought him some unspoken peace, a quiet satisfaction that no position or title could grant him.

"Mycroft," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "Thank you. For everything."

His hand stilled, and for a moment, you wondered if you had broken some unspoken rule by being so candid. But then he leaned forward, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to your damp forehead. "You’re welcome, my dear," he replied, his voice a low murmur. "Though, as you well know, I do not do these things out of some obligation. I do them because…" He trailed off, and there was a pause before he continued. "Because love, real love, is seeing all the flaws, the scars, the weariness—and choosing to stay. Something I know you do each and every day.”

You gazed up at him, and in his pale eyes, you saw the quiet promise of a man who had found his heart’s refuge in you. It wasn’t a grand declaration or an ostentatious display of affection—it was something far more enduring. It was the gentle unraveling of the formidable man before you, a defrosting that came not with time, but with trust.

As the water cooled and the candles burned low, you knew that no matter how many long days or bitter nights lay ahead, there would always be this—this shared sanctuary where the warmth of Mycroft’s quiet love would be enough to melt away the chill of the world outside.

#Mycroft Holmes #Mycroft Holmes x reader #Mycroft #Mycroft x reader #gndw fic

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lalunanymph · 1 year ago

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𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 - itoshi r, itoshi s

✧˚ · . a tornado meeting a hurricane, a wild flame catching onto dry straw—that was how it felt like to love the both of them: disastrous.

✧˚ · . love triangles, heavy tones of ch[e]ating, mentions of alc[o]hol, mentions of food, s[m]ut, injuries, ph[o]ne seggs (w. sae), all characters are aged up, 10k+ words because im sick like that

✧˚ · . she’s finally back and ready to make everyone sob again

masterlist | playlist

#3 — HABITS OF OUR HEART

Sae frowned at his phone, unsure of what to make of your radio silence.

It was unlike you to ever leave him high and dry. Usually, he could count on your sweet messages to sustain him throughout the day with the promise of hearing your voice at night to top off another hectic training session. The picture of you smiling on his wallpaper teased him with the yearning for home, and he thought it wouldn't hurt to give you a call to see how you were doing.

The prolonged dial tone upped his worries, and he was close to caving in and asking Rin to check up on you (again) when you answered the call in a scratchy voice.

“Baby?”

Sae felt like all the air in his lungs had returned to him. “Y/N?” Unused to being this vulnerable in front of someone, his tone took a defensive turn. “Why haven’t you been texting me back lately? Is something the matter? Did I…” He hesitated, a sudden lump in his throat obstructing his next accusation. Instead, it made him whisper the next part, suddenly afraid that he had done something to push you away. “Did I make you angry?”

Your reassurance was immediate. “Wh—no! No, Sae. We’re fine, promise. I’m just super busy at work now and putting in more hours so I can take a long leave and spend it with you.”

The steel band constricting his thoughts and breath into one tight, tense knot, eased. “Oh. Then why didn’t you tell me?”

He hated how whiny he sounded; this wasn’t like him at all. But, you had some strange hold over him to make a self-assured famous footballer lose his footing and grovel for your attention.

How strange.

Sae hated this new development with every fibre of his being, but he couldn’t stay away. Your soft laugh was the sweetest balm to his bruised ego, and your avoidance did not hurt as much anymore when you cooed and asked him if he was eating well.

“I miss you s’much, Sae,” you mumbled, and he could hear minute rustling in the background, like you were laying back on your bed. The mental image of you spread out for him, pussy wet and waiting, a hazy smile playing on the corners of your lips like it always did when he was about to claim you as his again, made his cock throb.

“Miss you, too, baby.” He padded towards the hotel room window, staring out at the traffic below. The man staring back from his reflection was more worn out than he expected, the circles under his eyes almost carved into his skin. He scrubbed one hand down his face, feeling homesick and world-weary at the same time. “Can I video-call you? Haven’t seen you in a bit.”

You didn’t miss a beat. “Sure.”

Ending the call, he swiped at the vibrating notification which pulled up a soothing image of your smile from a thousand miles away, your eyes filling with concern when they raked up and down his weathered face. “Baby, have you been sleeping well?”

He could barely focus on your words. His guess was right; you were laying in bed, wearing one of his old jerseys. The well-worn cotton settled perfectly on your curves and he could plainly imagine his name embossed across your back. It made all his blood and rationale run down south. Without another second of hesitation, he sat down on one of the plush hotel sofa chairs, tugging down the band of his sweatpants and grasped the pulsing base of his cock. His usually apathetic gaze was alight with an unnamed emotion, and he sensed you were waiting for a reply.

“I will be when you’re here with me.” Fuck—what sappy, corny shit. But, Sae was starting to realise that a man at the mercy of pleasure would say anything and everything in the heat of the moment. Your half-lidded, sleepy eyes sparked with life when you heard a wet squelch.

“Sae… baby, are you touching yourself?”

Might as well show you since the cat was out of the bag.

Switching from the front camera to the back one, the dual screens showed your parted lips and slowly warming cheeks while the bigger display showcased his leaking cock firmly in his fist.

“Oh.”

He noticed you biting your lip, and your camera switched to a front view of his jersey inching up the expanse of your bare thighs. Sae’s breath hitched when your naked pussy came into view, the teasing dark triangle between your legs hinting of your warm walls which he missed with every beat of his homesick heart.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He started stroking himself the same moment you parted your thighs, skimming your shaky fingers down the rise of your hip bone to sweep through your seam and gather the unmistakable wetness there. Sae choked back on a moan when you focused the camera on those same fingers playing with your viscous, honey-like arousal, before plunging them back into your gaping hole and slowly fucking yourself with them.

“Sae…”

Both your calls were silent enough to pick up on each other’s heavy breathing. It felt like months since he had your sweet pussy, and he halfway wished he was closer to home; closer to you. He missed the achingly intoxicating scent of vanilla which always seemed to emanate from the beloved crook of your neck. He yearned for your touch, your kisses, your smiles—they always managed to brighten up his day no matter how shitty it was.

“Look at you,” he groaned. Luckily, the camera was not focused on his face—Sae was self-conscious like that. He rarely made love to you during the day time, preferring to keep his vulnerability and heart bare for you when night fell. He was determined to never let the world see this side of him where such sensitivity was reserved for your viewing pleasure only. “So fuckin’ sexy… you drive me crazy.”

His half-mast gaze was caught on how shiny and slippery your fingers were; how you rubbed your clit and fucked yourself with three fingers until your hips started to buck.

“Nghh—Sae!”

“That’s right,” his voice was rougher, edged with lust. “Say my name, baby. Who does that pussy belong to?”

“Y-you,” the sharp gasp coming from his headphones almost had him spilling into his fist. “B-belongs to you, Sae.”

He grunted, head tossed back and face shining with sweat. “Damn right—f-fuck… m’gonna cum, baby… cum with me.”

It was not a request but an order. You had no choice but to comply if you wanted to show him the true depth of your devotion.

An almost cruel smirk overtook his usual placid features, and he wished he was there with you to pace you through your release. Even through the small display, he could savour the visual of your back arching, your hips circling in a desperate plea to be consumed by this twinflame of burning desire you both held for one another. Sae felt his balls tightening and he bit on his lower lip to stifle a moan, streaks of white painting his palm.

“Oh, god… Sae… m’wanna lick you all up, baby.”

In the haze of his orgasm, the impact of your words managed to strike him hard, and he halfway wished the same; that you were here, on your knees, mouth open and ready to clean up his mess. He would give you the sloppiest kiss once you did, and maybe he might even run you a bath afterwards to soothe your tense muscles.

“Mmm, tryna make me come home earlier, baby?”

His teasing was met with silence on your end, and Sae shook off some of the lingering fugue to check if his phone had accidentally froze.

“I don’t wanna come in between you and work, Sae.” Your mumble of discontent made him frown, and he switched his camera back to his flushed cheeks and thinned mouth. You did the same, and he could tell something was wrong because your eyes were filled with a glossy sheen of tears, and you couldn’t look at him through the screen.

“What do you mean by that?” He didn’t intend his words to come out harshly, but Sae has always been a blunt man. He couldn’t trade a lifetime of caustic tendencies to suddenly be thoughtful and nice, though he wished in this instance, he damn well could.

If anything, it would lighten the stormy clouds settling in your usually clear eyes; soothe the ache in your soul which missed him as much as he missed you.

“I just… come back home when you want, Sae, and not when you think I need you.”

A flash of hurt struck his chest, though his expression remained impassive. Despite how you had the best of intentions, he couldn’t help but be numb to your kindness and focused instead on the glaring insinuation.

“You don’t want me to come back?”

You blinked and your expression turned horrified. “N-no! Sae, that’s not what I meant, I—” you broke off with a tired sigh, and rubbed your temples with your clean fingers. “I just… I do miss you. But, please, focus on your work first. I’ll always be here, yeah? Come back when you need to, okay? I’m here waiting.”

Though your words made him feel marginally better, it soured some of the tenderness he wished he could savour during this afterglow.

“Right,” he said curtly, and it wasn’t fair to you, but he started to shut down. “I’ll let you know when that is.”

A beat of silence passed when the both of you said nothing at all. Sae suddenly felt like a neon sign was hovering over him, pulsing the words lukewarm loser lukewarm loser in his direction. A coil of anger curled heavily in his belly, making him feel slightly sick.

“Look, if you’re not gonna—”

“I love you, Sae,” you cut through whatever harsh bullshit he was poised to spill. Your declaration took him off guard, and he clamped his mouth shut. It was a wise decision, because your smile was touched by the heavens themselves, a gentle glow about you that he did not deserve when you beamed at him through the screen. “Go make us proud. Make your country proud, baby. We’re rooting for you.”

Sae wished he hadn’t spoken too soon and acted out. He felt like the world’s biggest fool, especially when you harboured no ill-will and was just reminding him to put his goals first during this career-defining season. In this sense, he had to thank you for setting his course straight again.

“I’ll score all my goals for you, angel,” he promised. “Each and everyone of ‘em will be in your name. I hope you know that.”

Your smile widened. “I do, baby. I’m so proud of you. Go get them, baby.”

He chuckled, the gesture foreign but welcomed. After all, you were one of the only few people in the world he was comfortable enough to let his guard down and laugh in front of.

“I will. Sleep tight, Y/N. I… love you, baby.”

Another first in this relationship.

Sae was infamous for whispering his love confessions into your skin after a bout of sex, but never in broad daylight. This sudden shift would’ve scared him shitless if your gentle beam did not turn into a bright grin.

“I love you, too, baby.”

He let you end the call first, feeling happy for the first time in days.

Buoyed by this gentle emotion, he searched through some local florist shops, buying the biggest, flashiest bouquet to be delivered to your apartment the first thing tomorrow evening, in the hopes that this tiny gesture would at least show the magnitude of his love for you.

Rin couldn’t help but find himself back in front of your door.

Like siren-song, the call of your presence beckoned him to the deepest edge of the sea where an unmistakable drop loomed, marking his impending demise. But, everytime he raised his fist to knock, he chickened out, rushing back to his car with his hoodie pulled over his head and teal eyes downcast.

He knew he was growing obsessed with the thought of you; felt it deep in his bones like the icky, hot humiliation of staring at Sae’s trophy collection while his bruised ego festered inside, a raging monster waiting to be unleashed. He supposed this is what defeat tasted like—not like he hadn’t experienced a healthy dose of it already in his short lifetime. The mounting frustration felt familiar in the back of his throat, like a scream building and building until it was unleashed in a loud cry.

This same feeling reminded him of using his brother’s achievements to push himself beyond his limits.

And you…

You fit in like a missing puzzle; the crucial piece he needed as enough proof that he was better than Sae. A stronger player, man and lover than he ever would be.

Rin wiped the sweat from his brow, channelling his inner frustrations into dribbling, training on his own away from prying eyes. He was caught up in his misery that he didn’t sense a figure making her way towards him.

You took in how exhausted Rin looked, the bento box in your hands tightening.

It was a peace offering; the first initiative on your end to smoothe over the rough patch of how you both began and hopefully be able to salvage what was left of his respect for you. The smell of roses lingered on your body, in your hair, the reminder of Sae’s bouquet leaving a stab of regret lodging deep underneath your rib cage where your heartbeat thumped erratically.

Through his keen senses, Rin noticed someone approaching, and when his eyes landed on you, you swore they softened before regaining lucidity and becoming detached once more.

“What are you doing here?”

Gesturing to the tiny, yellow container in your hand, you smiled sheepishly. “I… wanted to apologise for what happened a few days ago.”

The field was empty save for the both of you, most of the players having gone home after hitting the showers. Rin was often one of the last to leave, and Ego had grown tired enough of his unparalleled dedication (read: obsession) and given him the keys to lock up the space in his own time.

“How did you know I was here?”

Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you were acutely aware of his deep frown. Suddenly, you felt too hot under the collar, embarrassment scrawled across your features when you lowered your eyes and your shoulders dropped. “I asked around for you. Said your mom passed me your dinner and they let me in.”

Rin scrutinised you from head to toe, not saying a word. The silence stretched on, and you were halfway cajoling yourself to leave when he stepped forward.

Yes, you were pretty sure Rin’s towering physique registered in your mind, but you never gave yourself time to really absorb how tall he was. A good head and half above you, Rin bore down easily on you, the heat emanating from his broader frame making you dizzy. The smell of freshly cut grass and musk radiated through his sweaty pores, and you felt the irrational need to take one step closer and bury your face into his chest.

Instead, you reeled in the disastrous thought and pushed the bento box into his hand, ignoring his confused stare.

“I should get going… you need to rest and recharge so I won’t disturb,” you mumbled hastily, unable to take another second of this aching tension. Your mind swirled with a thousand and one thoughts at the same time, and they all came crashing down when he reached for you, his touch gentle around your wrist.

“Rin—”

There were no words to elucidate how comforting his embrace was around you, or how it felt like falling into the softest mattress after a hard day at work. Your squeak was muffled by his lips on yours, rough fingers tilting your head back to kiss you while his other arm was around your waist. You were growing dizzy from the lack of oxygen and the feel of his soft, slightly chapped lips on yours.

Before you could dissolve into a puddle on these artificial fields, he released you, holding you close to his chest, every rise and fall of his breathing melting warmth into your back.

Twining your fingers with his above your waist, you rubbed your thumb across his knuckles, memorising the smooth skin which was a stunning contrast from his calloused fingers and scarred palms. Rin let you hold his hand, quietly marvelling at how much bigger the flat of his palm was in comparison to yours. Long, slender fingers like a pianist encased your own smaller ones in a loose hold, and you both let the tender silence fall wherever it may.

“I can’t choose,” you whispered after a moment of words unsaid.

Rin stared at the curve of your shoulder, hidden by the loose cotton blouse you wore. He ached to push it aside, to press his lips right onto the warm skin which held the power to make him lose his mind. This close, he could smell the intoxicating vanilla coming from the crook of your neck, breathing in the smell of baby powder wafting from your hair.

“I’m sorry, Rin. I can’t choose between you and him.” Closing your eyes, he felt more than heard you stifle a sob. “I love you, too. I hope you know that.”

“But, you love him?” His voice was flat and emotionless. Thankfully, your back was turned so you couldn’t notice his brimming eyes. “Why is it so hard to choose?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled almost inaudibly. The wind picked up, its frigidity making goosebumps erupt on your arms. “I wish I could choose you, but it’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” he started to argue, releasing his grip on your hand and taking a step back. The inches between you both felt like an ocean separating you two, and no matter how much he wished for there to be nothing standing in the way, somehow his brother would always be the biggest obstacle to any goal he wished to attain in this life.

Including your love.

“S’not like you both are married,” his voice sounded hollow even to his own ears. “Don’t you love me?”

Your breathing hitched, and you finally turned around to face him. He wished you didn’t. The tears glossing your eyes was enough to break his heart, and he wished with all his might that you would see reason; come to your senses and choose the better brother.

But, all you did was shake your head, dislodging a single tear trickling down your cheek. He watched it make a silvery path from your jaw to your neck, his tongue itching to retrace its track.

“I do, Rin. But, god… I don’t know you. I don’t know you but I’m so attracted to you and I can’t stop thinking about you. Sae… he called me the other day and we had phone sex, but after it was all done, all I could think about was you. You drive me crazy, and—” your voice started to break, lower lip wobbling. “I know you think I’m disgusting. A cheater. But, Sae needs me. We’ve always needed each other and I’m afraid that if I let him go, I’ll be throwing a part of me away.”

Dropping your head, you exhaled a laugh that sounded on the verge of a sob. “Maybe it’s best if I never knew you. Or him. I think it would be easier on the three of us.”

Rin listened as you unburdened those heavy emotions to him without a single word. When you finished, he turned his head to the side, jaw tight with fury and heartbreak.

“Fine,” he mumbled. “You’ll get your wish.” Pushing the bento box back into your hands and ignoring your small gasp of hurt, he strode away. “Let’s pretend like we never knew each other, if that makes it easier for you.”

“Rin—!”

He quickened his pace and you tried to catch up to him. “Rin, wait!” But, he would always outrun you, and when he got to the doors, he heard your cry of his name turn into a shriek of pain.

Turning around, his eyes widened at your hunched figure on the ground, holding onto your ankle. The bento box you carried had slipped from your grasp, grains of rice and meat scattered in a heap on the ground.

“Ow,” you moaned, hissing in pain. “Ow. Shit… shit…”

He was back by your side immediately. Barely giving you time to think, he slid one arm underneath your knees, and another under your arms to lift you from the ground. The sudden position released the pressure off your ankle, and he didn’t need a certificate in sports medicine to know you had strained the muscle.

“Lukewarm loser,” he muttered under his breath. “Such a huge, fucking pain.”

You kissed your teeth and continued moaning softly, arms wound tightly around his neck. Rin sat you down on the bleachers and went into a backroom, returning a minute later with a first aid kit. Mimicking the movements you did a week ago when you first tended to his sprained oblique, he sprayed a cold mist over the injury, picking up a bandage to wrap around the torn muscle.

“Stay still,” he warned, forming a tight tourniquet around the injury, straightening your foot to set the muscles right. Your gritted teeth and muffled wails would’ve made him mock you in return for breaking his heart, but Rin kept his lips tightly shut and focused on bandaging you up.

You could barely walk when he was done, and in a fit of exasperation, he carried you to his car, setting you in the front seat.

“Rin,” you mumbled pathetically, eyes shining and lower lip wobbling. “W-where are you taking me?”

“My place,” he muttered curtly. “Unless you have someone to watch over you 24/7 while that stupid ankle of yours heals?”

Shamefully, you shook your head. Your family was in another prefecture, and your social circle was limited to clients and few fair-weather friends you saw once a month. There was no one to take care of you besides this brooding, dark-haired striker who looked like he would rather wade through molasses than do this. But, despite his disquietude, Rin took this newfound responsibility in stride.

He brought you to his apartment, letting you lean against him as you took one mincing step after another.

The fact that you could still walk, albeit hesitantly, was a good sign. Your injury would take a few days to heal, tops.

Rin guided you to the sofa, and you sat with a huff. Taking off his jacket, he disappeared into the kitchen, and reemerged a second later with a bottle of isotonic drink. You took it with a nod of thanks and popped the cap off, drinking deeply.

“What about your work? Can you move around with a busted ankle?”

You slid your gaze to the tightly wrapped bandage and shook your head. “I don’t think I can. I’ll just let my assistant handle it for me while I take a few days off.”

He exhaled, settling back on the end of the couch, putting some much needed distance between you two.

“I don’t know if Sae would find out—”

“I don’t want him to find out—”

The both of you fell silent, each other’s trampling words on the same topic drawing a quiet consternation. Rin started again.

“I think you should tell him you’re staying with a friend while your ankle heals.”

“What if he insists on video calling me?” Your tense question was met with furrowed brows. Rin’s answer took you by surprise.

“And, what? Recognise my penthouse? Sae hasn’t visited me… not even once.”

At the reminder of how starkly broken their relationship was, you fell mute. Rin salvaged the silence by sighing. “In any case, he wouldn’t know… or, care.” His lips were flattened into a tight line. “Sae’s a lot of things, but considerate and kind was never on his list.”

“What happened between the both of you?” The question you had harboured for close to a week spilled over in a bursting bubble, detonating the tail end of his statement like a punch in the gut. You glanced at him and found a dark look settling over Rin’s face like a cloud, his already tight jaw ticking.

When you first started dating Sae, it took him weeks to open up to you about his family and past life in Japan. The both of you met during one of your tours in Spain and you were called upon by the Madrid team to tend to one of their mid-fielder’s recurring injuries. Your impression of Sae when you met him for the first time was that he reminded you of a piece of paper.

His blank expression and dull eyes cracked a smile from you, and though you were the perfect picture of professional friendliness, you barely left a mark on the famed Japanese prodigy’s composure.

At least, you thought you didn’t.

A week later, he bumped into you at a nearby coffee shop and asked you out without a beat of hesitation. You were completely caught by surprise that you said ‘yes’ without thinking it through, and two days later, you were sat opposite a quiet, taciturn Itoshi Sae who mostly listened while you spoke and asked one liner questions to keep the conversation going.

One date turned to two, then three and soon, you were pressed flush to his bed, sweaty and sore from his rough handling. In the quiet afterglow, he started crumpling; the first crinkle appearing on his otherwise pristine surface. Behind this impassive man was a world of secrets written in indelible ink that you were slowly unwrapping day by day.

Rin, however, reminded you of still waters that ran deeper than any ocean in the world.

Collected on the outside, one wrong foot would leave anyone plunging to an icy death within his intense grip. He held an admirable composure which rippled occasionally when you disturbed his surface, but his state of detached calm would return a second later, barely fazed.

It made you want to dip your toes deeper, try to find what made those murky waters eventually give way to a calm stream worthy of an oasis.

Rin’s silence had no end, and you couldn’t tell if he had heard you in the first place.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered churlishly and stood up.

“Oh,” you quickly nodded. “I’m sorry for encroaching. I won’t do it again if it makes you feel uncomfortable.”

He had a funny way of showing his appreciation for you respecting his boundaries. Rin blinked owlishly, his long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. While Sae’s lashes had a hint of reddish brown to them, Rin’s was darker and lusher, framing his pretty teal eyes perfectly.

It made you want to drown in those aquamarine pools; give yourself up to his seductive currents.

Would that be a better choice?

You swallowed and glanced at the beads of condensation running down the plastic bottle in your tight grip.

Would it make everyone happy if I chose him?

He chased those heavy thoughts by scooting closer to you. The smell of sweat and vitality stung your nostrils, but you didn’t pay it any mind, tilting your head up towards him to drink in his unfairly pretty features. His dark green bangs flopped in his face, touching his cheeks as you gently pushed them aside. Rin closed his eyes tightly, releasing a tired sigh.

“Do you mean it? Do you love me?”

Your whisper ignited his curiosity, and he fluttered his eyes open to find you gazing at him with uncertainty lining your features. You bit on your bottom lip when he took awhile to answer, riddled with fear at baring yourself with such vulnerability to a man who you didn’t even know you could trust.

As you mulled over such a foolish impulse, Rin took this moment to rake his gaze right to your lips. Barely a few seconds into your spiralling dismay, you flicked your lids open to find him moving closer, his lips on yours silencing your sudden squeak of fear.

This time, Rin’s kiss moulded an answer he could not give to you outright. It would be too traitorous to think of uttering it; to make himself form those words which would seal the deal.

Catching your face in his large palm, his warmth bled into your cheek, aided by the plush balminess of his lips and the taste of him on your tongue. Tenderness could not begin to describe how Itoshi Rin was treating you—like you were made of glass and precious secrets he did not want to spill towards any undeserving ear.

The capped isotonic bottle fell to the floor, making a ‘glug’ sound when it rolled underneath his expensive couch. Rin guided you onto your back, laying you flat on the plush surface and raking his heated stare down the dip of your bare collarbones and towards the hem of your pretty blouse riding up to expose your soft belly.

His arousal and common sense flooded south, and he couldn’t wait to roam his hands down your sides, memorising the feel of your breath expanding through your entire body, reaching for your hips and squeezing—

“Ow—Rin!”

He quickly jerked away like he was scalded with hot water, your teary eyes and tight grip on your wounded ankle slamming him back to reality. You curled onto yourself, riding out this wave of agony while his hands fluttered about uselessly, trying to decipher what he did wrong.

“Knee,” you managed to wheeze out through your gritted teeth. “Your knee—oww—pressed onto my calf.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, easing you up into his lap to take pressure off your sore leg. “The muscle spasms must’ve reached that region.” Frowning to himself, he slid you back to the couch and lumbered into his kitchen, emerging with a packet of ice.

Before you had a chance to protest, he lifted your injured foot and placed it on his lap, pressing the ice pack into your skin. The air filled with sounds of both your steady breathing, and you swore it chased the loneliness away and numbed you to the pain. His presence was a mark upon your soul, steadily growing deeper, and you feared to open yourself towards such reliance.

His touch was growing familiar day by day, and you were growing susceptible to it. Even the barest brush of his thumb on your ankle bone could make you shiver. Everything about Rin drew you to a crashing stop, configuring your inner compass to point in his direction and away from the true destination you were meant to head towards.

“You’re staring at me.”

“You’re hard not to stare at.”

His frown was back. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

You pressed your hand to his, feeling both the cold and unbearable warmth seep into your skin.

Rin gave you a withering glare. “This. Stop this.” He grasped your hand and peeled it off his own, setting it down while he continued to ice your sprained muscle.

“I thought you loved me.”

A shadow of a smile curved on the edges of his lips. “I didn’t say it outright.”

“Doesn’t have to be said,” you retorted, tongue-in-cheek, and he couldn’t help but smile. You found comfort in his expression, reaching out to brush the tips of your fingers across his chin. “Thank you. For this.”

He shook his head, unable to meet your eyes. “It’s nothing.”

Rin was wrong. It meant everything to you.

Everything and more which you could never say out loud if you were to be honest with yourself for once.

Days stretched on, and your injury started to heal.

The pulled muscle grew stronger in tandem with your fondness for Rin, brokenness healing into whole vitality to birth something new and beautiful.

He let you crash in his guest bedroom, made sure to stock up on ready-made food which you could easily heat up, and returned home everyday at 5 on the dot to help you stand shakily on your own two feet. It was a kindness you did not deserve, and you appreciated every drop of it.

On the third day, Sae called you up, and you answered him with a meek voice, stating you had suffered an injury and was recovering at a friend’s place. He didn’t push you for more details, and you didn’t offer any.

It was a perfunctory call at best, and an obligation at worst.

Your days with Rin grew into a wonderful melange of understanding and kindness. He was a solid presence you could rely on for help when you needed a taller figure to reach for a spare bowl in the cupboard above. His wry sense of speaking evolved into a humour you appreciated, especially when he deadpanned an insult aimed at his unsuspecting teammates. His house started to feel more like a home, despite how you had to chastise yourself from going down that treacherous path.

After all, there was no better addiction than the insanity of falling in love with someone you could never have.

Thoughts of him fueled you during the day when you stretched your muscles, used his expensive bath soap which lathered perfectly on your skin as you imagined it was his larger palms running the suds in between your breasts, down the valley of your soft belly and between the crevices of your legs. Perfumed with the scent of him, you were charmed like a maiden in love.

When night came, you satiated yourself in his presence by watching him put on a horror movie for you both to enjoy, and sometimes, you found him nodding off to sleep at the opposite end of the couch, knocked out after a day of hard training. You would reach for a blanket and tuck it over his broader frame, peck his forehead and stumble back to your room. It amused you to no end how he could be out like a light while jump scares and screams reverberated in the background.

His quirks were endearing as they were infuriating.

One night, while watching a Junji Ito film, you felt Rin shift from behind you.

Amidst gory screams and blood exploding, he touched your ankle, rubbing underneath the hard bone with mindful circles using his thumb. His breath fanned warmly across your neck, and he noticed how eclectically perfect the movie lights played out across your features. You were absorbed in this retelling, rapturous in your attention that he felt almost bad for shaking you out of it.

His touch around your waist was hesitant, and he kept tabs on your reaction. You shifted slightly, an adorable scrunch between your brow. He wanted nothing more than to smooth the crinkle of consternation with the tip of his thumb, amused at how fully absorbed you were by one of his favourite horror movies.

He trailed his nose across your jaw, using the corners of his mouth to kiss your chin. You batted him away with a low whine, “Rin, m’tryna watch.”

Laughing inwardly, his touch idled around your waist, spreading heat on your soft skin. Rin didn’t give himself time to think—to really gauge his true intentions when he tries to distract you. It’s a little game he wanted to play, to see how long you could hold up to his teasing.

Lithe fingers dance down your belly, plucking at the waistband of your shorts while his other hand cautiously inched up your rib cage. There was a hitch in your breath when he slipped two fingers past the stretchy elastic of his old boxers clad around your waist, as if he were testing the waters of your consent.

But, your eyes never left the screen.

Emboldened, Rin stuck his lower lip between his teeth, growing heady on the thought of your submission on his tongue to taste. He lifted up the hem of your shirt, forgetting that you hadn’t worn a bra to sleep. You’re clad in one of his ancient jerseys which he passed to you in a fit of realisation that you had no clothes to spare when you both made the impromptu decision that you should bunk over at his place for the time being.

Such shortsightedness proved as a win when your nipples puckered from the cool air.

His preoccupied hand down your shorts found the seam of your clit and he reeled in a curse when he felt the slipperiness of your arousal coating the roughened pads of his index and middle finger. Rin fought back a groan when you bucked your hips up, implicitly asking him for more. Both of your eyes were glued onto the screen, and Rin knew this entire sequence by heart.

He waited for the right moment when the music swelled and the heroine rounded the corner, the shadowy figure above head fully materialising behind her heaving back. You looked terrified, though you didn’t hide your face behind your palms like he expected you would do. Truly, you were braver than he gave you credit for. On screen, the actress sensed movement, and her expression melted into one of genuine terror.

Violin strings broke over in a gasping crescendo when she turned around, finally face to face with the demon who had inhabited her daughter’s body—a faceless entity with a gaping mouth.

Rin slipped his fingers into your tight heat the same moment the big reveal happened and your reaction was instantaneous. A loud yelp ripped past your gasping mouth, and your back arched higher for him to do as he pleased. Which was a lot considering the filthy thoughts swirling in his mind—the positions he wanted to bend you in and take you till you were a sweaty, shaking mess.

He curled his fingers, languidly pumping them in and out of your slick cunt. Your breathing grew shallower, whinier, and you shifted to trap his hands between your thighs, doe-eyes flitting upwards to his own impassive ones.

“Rin—mhmp.”

Slender, callous fingers slotted past your mouth to pin your tongue down. His crisp command was clear. “Suck.”

You did as he asked with docile perfection, looking far too precious and innocent for a woman who was gagging lightly around his fingers and undulating her hips in tight circles of pleasure. Rin’s expression remained impassive, but you could tell he was enjoying a taste of your submission from the stiffness poking your lower back.

He pressed his fingers deeper down your soft gullet, and you gurgled, bubbles of drool forming in the corners of your mouth. You moaned pitchily when he slipped another finger inside of you to stretch you out, scissoring them to reach your innermost spots. With your eyes rolling back into your head and your mouth stuffed full with his thick digits, you felt the coil of heat in your lower belly tightening deliciously.

Rin was starting to breathe heavier, his teal eyes melting into your wide gaze. The kiss he feathered onto your forehead was starkly different in comparison to the almost rough way he was finger-fucking you. His duality would never cease to leave you lightheaded from the joyous whiplash. One second, he could be the most puppy-like man who nipped at your feet and would follow you to the ends of the world, and in the next, he would be fucking up into you like a wild beast unleashed from years of repression.

But, through it all, your heart never stopped singing his name.

You never stopped loving him for even one second.

“Rin,” you choked, tears clouding your eyes when the pleasure started reaching a point of agony. One hand was wrapped around his wrist to anchor your burgeoning dizziness, and the other curled up in a fist by your side, knuckles stretched thinly over your remaining grip on reality.

The actress on screen had been killed off by the vengeful spirit and a seance was taking place, though neither of you noticed. All he did was click his tongue, and nodded towards the neglected movie rolling in the background. “Lower the volume—wanna hear your moans.”

His both hands were preoccupied, so it fell onto you to stretch for the remote and bring the volume bar down. Screams, dramatic strings and outlandish humming were reduced to background noise, your scratchy moans and heavy breathing at the forefront of this auditory fest he wanted to indulge in.

Rin dragged you closer to his chest, propping in between his two muscular thighs. Stuttering breaths caught and strained through his equally defined torso, and his entire body radiated enough heat to make you break a sweat.

Prying his sodden fingers from your mouth, Rin resisted the urge to clasp his hand around your neck possessively when you whined and chased after them again, suckling on the calloused tips like how he imagined you would pleasure his cock. The flash of your pink tongue licking and running up and down his thick digits, peeking between the crevices where you deep-throated them with a hunger he never expected, made him realise heaven was real.

It was in the form of your warm mouth suckling him right to his knuckle while your tongue danced along the ridges of nimble fingertips and roughened skin.

“Slut,” he rasped, fully removing his fingers and clamping them around your neck instead.

You whined and jerked your hips up, begging him to give you something to put in your mouth as his movements below increased in their pacing. Rin was merciless when he fingered you, quickly memorising your weak spots and fully exploiting them to emerge as the ultimate puppeteer of your body. He knew the spongy spot just below your navel which made your hips twitch up like a nervous tick without fail. He knew you liked to have your clit played as he curled his fingers inside of you. His other free hand reached for your breasts, twisting and plucking your tight nipple till you keened and bowed your head back, enjoying both stimulation with a greedy desperation.

Touch yourself for me, the memory of your spread legs atop his luxurious blue silk bed sheets and his heated teal eyes latched onto your gaping cunt nearly made you cum right there and then. Show me how you pleasure yourself so I can learn.

And what a fast learner he was.

“R-Rin, m’gonna—”

In a flash, his fingers squelched out of your cunt.

Your cry was part indignation and disappointment. Placating you, Rin stuck his fingers back down your throat for you to clean up. Obediently, you lapped at the salty-sweet stickiness with half-mast eyes, your pussy sucking his other pair of fingers in deeper. Fuck, he almost groaned out loud. I need to have her.

Rin could barely wait to pry his fingers out of your mouth and perfect cunt to position you on his lap. Perched prettily with hazy eyes and a swollen mouth, his cock ached to be buried in you. Soft pants fell from your parted lips, and you buried your fingers in his hair needily, rocking your core over his leaking bulge.

“Need more,” your desperate whine made him almost feral with desire. “Need you, Rin-Rin.”

That nickname falling like a sweet drop of dew from your honeyed lips snapped his patience. Pushing down his pants, his cock sprung out, slapping his lower belly and smearing a bit of pre on the toned muscle. He ripped the old jersey off from your frame, uncaring that you cried out in pain when the hem caught and tugged on your earring. All he did was pinch and lick your nipples into stiffness as you struggled to untangle the fabric from the caught hook.

Once the knotted thread was free from the sterling hook, he urgently tossed his jersey aside, focused on your shorts now. He pitched his head forward to rub his burning cheeks in between your breasts, mouthing and licking the plush flesh while he kneaded your ass eagerly. You lifted his face from the refuge of your body to smash your mouth sloppily onto his, and in the background, the credits rolled, a slow, sombre tune which lended a touch of melancholy to this heated scene.

Ripping the worn out shorts off your frame, he laid your bare body flush against his. The press of both your weights on his tailbone made it hurt, but it was worth the pinch of discomfort when you lifted your hips and gently grasped the base of his drooling dick. Giving it a few pumps, Rin’s loud gritted teeth and flushed cheeks spoke volumes of his tethering patience.

He was close to snapping at you to push him inside of you when you grasped the leaking head and gently nudged it past the tight, maddening muscle. No matter how many times you let him in, it still felt like the first time.

Despite the stretch, his girth and the sting it took for you to take him fully, you always did it like a champ without complaint. You would always, without fail, kiss him when he bottomed out inside of you—a soft peck of your lips on his that ignited his flame of obsession for you even more.

The way how your warmth melted around him like a velvet popsicle could’ve filled his chest with all the happiness in the world. Your strained moan, like you were pushing your ample desire past a sieve, would fill him with burning pride at being yours.

Because as much as you belonged to him, he belonged to you, too.

Those thoughts barely made a dent on his composure; what did was the sight of your pussy wrapped almost lovingly around his cock, the slick flesh sliding up and down his thick length, leaving rings of white from base to tip.

“Fuck, baby,” he cussed, grabbing onto your hips, mesmerised by the sight unfolding before him. “S’fucking good slut… so wet f’me…”

You took his praise in stride, letting it fuel you to please him even more. Pressing your palms flush on his shoulders, you used the strength of your thighs to pump, swivel and buck your hips—riding his cock with a passion he had never seen a woman possess. It blew his mind, leaving him gaping, groaning and woozily locking eyes with you.

Rin’s fleeting kiss on your forehead was done in an unsteady motion, and his grip tightened on your body till you swore he would leave bruises behind. His breath was hot on your chin, and his tongue was back in your mouth, desperately tangling with your own tongue.

One large hand slid from your hip to between your legs, his thumb finding purchase on your slick clit, rubbing tight circles to stimulate you on both ends. You tightened your grip in his hair, and undulated your hips in quicker circles, breath coming out in laboured pants.

Rin ducked his head to take one hard nipple in his mouth, suckling on the throbbing flesh and tonguing it until it went completely hard enough to cut diamonds. He pulled back slightly, strings of spit connecting his mouth to the heaving flesh, and he kissed around your areola, smearing saliva and his devotion across your skin.

You squeezed down on him the same moment he took your tight bud back into his mouth, happily licking and sucking it like it was his favourite candy.

Not many words were shared between you two, but it wasn’t necessary; the whispers of your body and heavenly sounds of ecstatic moans and grunts were enough to transcend the boundaries of speech. The sloppiness of your sexes connecting was loud in the quiet, filling his home with the stinging scent of sweat, musk and wild desire.

The sight of your tits jiggling in his face, your hips stuttering and pussy dripping around his pulsing length nearly triggered Rin’s release. But, he held back by picturing gory murder and disembowelment scenes, breath growing heady and heavier.

Your own breathing was becoming stuttered, and electrifying his ego to great heights. He was close to breaking his own rule to never mark up a woman that wasn’t his, when his control dissipated and his lips were latched around your pulse point. The hot seal of his mouth on such a delicate stretch of skin made you throb all over, and you didn’t push him away, tilting your head back to receive him even if it would leave a mark—letting him do whatever he wanted to you.

“Fuck,” he moaned in between desperate suckles. Hot open-mouthed kisses fell intermittently like a summer drizzle on your collarbones and shoulders, but his lips would always return to that same spot which was starting to burn from his branding.

You whined and arched your back, turning around to glimpse both of your figures on the darkened TV screen. The stretch of his cock prying you open was magnificent, nearly making you cry out with euphoria. His muscular, thick thighs on either side of you were trembling, and the sight of his big hands on the delicate curve of your spine made you think the unholiest thoughts when it came to staking your claim on Itoshi Rin.

Returning the favour of his mark on your neck, you pressed your lips to the spot underneath his right ear, sucking the sensitive skin there in between sloppy kisses up and down his throat. Rin’s hot breath fanned across your shoulder, leaving you intoxicated on his passion and desire.

His hips bucked up into yours, and he pressed your lower body flushed to his hard enough for his pubic bone to grind against your clit. The action, combined with his mouth back on your nipples, was enough to tighten the string of desire deep in you towards its breaking point.

“Rin… oh god… Rin…”

He has never paid much attention to how his name sounded like coming from anyone, but when it was you, he found that the cadence of it was far more magical than he expected.

“Y/N,” he reciprocated in his strained, low baritone. “Fuck… so well for me…”

Disjointed words, heavy breathing and grabby hands made a hazy mark in your dizzy mind.

You were so far gone that all it took was a few precise circles on your clit with his thumb to get your release crashing down, triggering his own.

The sensation of your pussy melting around him had Rin seeing stars behind his tightly closed lids. His stuttered growl of your name was buried in your neck, and with a few more thrusts, he spilled fully into you; white hot strings of pure fertile devotion pumped deeper into you with a few more sloppy thrusts.

“Rin… oh… shit, baby.” You cursed the same moment you tiredly smushed your lips to the corner of his mouth. “Oh my god, baby…”

You had never came at the same time as a lover in your entire life, and the experience was enough to render you speechless with a cresting emotion you could not name. Hot tears slipped from your closed eyes and splashed onto his shoulder. Rin didn’t point them out, nuzzling your cheek tiredly to comfort you.

Exhaustion fell over both of you like a warm blanket. Both your limbs were tangled, slotting naturally like pieces meant to fall upon the other. His breath stirred your hair and your lips were pressed to his neck, his arms a tight vine around your torso.

You played with the dark locks at the nape of his neck, marvelling at how soft they were.

“What’s on your mind?” Rin’s soft question knocked you out from your reverie, and you tried (and failed) to hide your growing smile.

“Nothing,” you mustered, pressing a quick kiss to the developing mark under his ear. He wasn’t amused by your deflection, smacking your bottom lightly.

“Tell me.”

Biting your lower lip, you pried your face from its sanctuary of his neck, fixing him with a tender smile—one that knocked the breath from his lungs.

“I was thinking about you… and us… and how I want this to never end.”

Whatever that sparked between the two of you seemed to grow out of control like a wild flame; razing down the steep trees shading his consciousness as easily as if they were straw dolls. Instead of being terrified, Rin found such destruction beautiful, the glow of the flames drenching him with warmth, the thunderous falling wood filling his ears with brown noise.

“Yeah?” he goaded the flames further, fanning them into a high arc through his slowly growing smile. “And why is that, baby?”

“Because I’m in love with you, Itoshi Rin, and I want to be with you.”

Your next words made an explosion ring in his ears, pushing him to discard every shred of rationality just to keep you by his side for as long as the world kept on spinning.

“I’m breaking up with Sae the first thing tomorrow morning.”

TWO DAYS AGO

Sae had no idea how he found himself back in this club.

The pulsing lights, neon strobes and loud music weren’t exactly up to his standards, but he gritted his teeth and bore it for the sake of his team.

It was a joint birthday celebration—some young asshole together who had the same birthdate as Leonardo. The club was in full swing, and Sae just wanted to go home and sleep off another rough training session. But, it was as if his teammates had a radar to his burgeoning displeasure. They roped him in for a drinking competition with loud jeers; plied him with shots till the lights lost their edge and he was actually starting to enjoy the music.

Of course, with word of the arrival of the Spanish football team, came the trail of money-hungry whores. They walked over, plastered on fake faces and bodies with their syrupy smiles and talons waiting to sink into the first available man. Those who didn’t have a woman waiting for them back home took the opportunity to flirt, dance and drink together with them while others like him stood by the sidelines, respectfully detached from the entire scene.

The alcohol was wearing off in his system, and he was starting to get sleepy. Sae signalled to Leo, catching the hulking man’s eye from across the dancefloor and gestured towards the exit sign. I’m leaving.

Leonardo Luna pursed his lips, an overgrown blond baby when he shook his head, making puppy dog eyes that would’ve had anyone caving in. Stay for a little bit, you loser—those eyes seemed to say.

Sae shook his head, a smirk worming on his lips. The other men wouldn’t get it. He had plans to make and a flight to book back home.

Turning his back, he fished for his phone in his pocket, pulling up your chat. The text he sent you a few hours ago remained unread, and despite how much he wished he could fix this, there was nothing else he could do but return back to Japan and see you again.

I hope you sleep well tonight, baby.

He sighed, and pocketed his phone again. There must be a reason why you were acting so distant.

Sae must’ve done something; said something that didn’t sit right with you. But, no matter how many times he wracked his brain for an inkling of what he did, he would come back empty-handed and slightly more frustrated than before.

Just as he was about to round the corner and walk out of the club, someone ran into him. He could tell it was a woman from the flurry of brown hair which jerked back, and her soft gasp followed with an embarrassed apology.

Sae blinked, unperturbed and was about to walk away when she called for him back. “Excuse me, sir?” The lilt in her voice sounded vaguely familiar, tasting of home, and when he turned back to fully drink her in, he found her features to be the same ones he saw from the women back in Japan and he instantly relaxed.

Switching straight into Japanese, he mumbled, “Yeah?”

In her hands, she held his phone, the lighted screen showing a text message in the notification bar. He took it from her, and she bowed her head in apology once more. “I’m sorry for being so clumsy, I didn’t—wait—you can speak Japanese, too?”

Sae nodded in confirmation. “I assume you’re from there?”

Her expression broke into one of relief, a kindling comradeship every human had when they met someone from their home country in a foreign land. “I am. I’m from Kanagawa. And you?”

Something electric ran down his spine at her words, and he bit back on a wistful smile, keeping his expression neutral to not scare her off. “Same here. What’re you doing in Madrid?”

The more he spoke to her, the more he realised how her brown eyes which matched her hair seemed to spark back to life. She spoke freely of her job here as a reporter, how much she missed home and strangely, natto. He had to laugh at that, reminded of the fermented beans which were a great companion to rice—the ones which Rin, back when they were kids, would always pull a face at and pass it to him under the table when they’re mother wasn’t looking.

He told her of his life as a football player and she made a sound of recognition when he told her his name.

“Itoshi Sae.” Something about how she said his name, sent a shiver through him—a traitorous one which reminded him of you.

(Fuck, he almost forgot he had a woman waiting for him back home).

“I hope our paths will cross again someday, Sae.”

He didn’t reply, nodding in acknowledgement.

“Wait!” Before he left, she passed him her business card and cheekily said, “In case you want to help a lost Japanese woman find good food around here.”

She handed him a glossy card complete with her name and phone number on it. Noguchi Jina. A pretty name. Of course. She would be living in Madrid for two years and welcomed any help in navigating the big city.

Despite the warning bells chiming in his head, Sae took the tiny, glossy rectangle with another nod. “We’ll see when I’m free.”

He ducked his head and walked out of the club, the card he held in his hand burning warmly. Letting go of it, he removed his phone, and it was stupid, really, how his heart kicked up a notch when he saw your name on the screen, before it crashed down with a lingering sense of guilt.

It was strange—he did nothing wrong, but why did the sight of your sweet message (‘Goodnight Sae, dreaming of you tonight ♡’) fill him with guilt? He didn’t sleep or flirt with anyone; he felt like his mind was playing a sick trick. Maybe he missed you a little too much—felt like he wasn’t giving you enough attention that the reminder of any woman who wasn’t you filled him with shame.

I should go back to see her. Deciding that it was enough of a reason to take a few days off, Sae texted his manager to let him know he was off for a few weeks, and that he would be back in Japan to spend the holidays. His next course of action was to leave his mom a voicemail that he would take the entire family for a trip to the Hokkaido mountains—yes, including Rin.

Call it sentimental, but he missed those family holidays they used to go on before he moved to Spain, and he wanted to be reunited under the same roof with the people who missed him the most (yes, this included Rin).

The idea of such a trip filled him with a quiet joy he did not know how to express beyond a small grin, and as he booked his ticket for home, he pictured the wide smile on your face the moment he showed up at your apartment, suitcase and heart open for you to give him a home during his entire stay.

His mother texted him back the same moment his manager gave him the okay. Since it was off-season for Rin, too, he had the time to spend together with his suddenly nostalgic nii-chan who wanted to start making amends for the shit he put his otouto through.

They were both grown men now, and Sae was coming to find that the older he got, the more he found himself reluctant to hold onto grudges.

Which was why when Hana told him it was a lovely idea, he couldn’t keep his excitement down when he texted her back:

Don’t tell Y/N or Rin. I want it to be a surprise.

Her response was warm and welcoming.

Of course. Come back home safely, Sae.

Home. He would be going home.

(To you.)

I’m breaking up with Sae the first thing tomorrow morning.

What a lie that turned out to be.

It seemed as if the universe had it out for you when you woke up in Rin’s arms the next morning, heart full and head woozy. Your lover was also stirring awake next to you, running his fingers up and down your spine which stretched and arched open for him like a well-loved book.

“G’morning,” he murmured huskily, sleep still heavy in those gorgeous teal eyes and a small smile etched on his swollen lips. You wished him back and snuggled closer to his side, one arm slung haphazardly across his chest, feeling his steady breathing lulling you back into a doze.

Absent-mindedly, you felt him press a soft kiss to your temple, taking a brief pause to inhale the sweet smell of baby powder from your locks.

“Are you sniffing my hair?” you teased and he clicked his tongue.

“Smells good. In fact—” Rin rolled you onto your back, his weight pressing you fully into his mattress. Your sprained ankle was about healed and it barely stung when it was tucked under his calf, calmed by his intoxicating warmth. “—I wanna eat you whole.”

You hummed, “Why’re you so… big?”

The thin white shirt he wore to sleep stretched over his broad pecs which were shaking with a small laugh. You couldn’t see his face, but you assumed he was wearing a smirk. “Big in what way?”

Huffing, you smacked his shoulder. “Your height, dummy. What else would I be talking about?”

Rin found himself growing more comfortable with you in more ways than he had ever felt around another human being. The defences he held onto tightly for his entire life seemed to fracture and crack around the edges, giving him a sliver of understanding that this was what it was like to connect with another person.

This was how he thought someone would start to fall in love with everything—stupid jokes, colours, new experiences, the sound of tinkling laughter… and something—someone else—entirely.

(This was how it felt like to fall in love with you).

He was about to retort with a lewd comment which was starkly out of character from his usual detached and withdrawn personality, when your phone vibrated with an incoming call.

His brother’s name on the screen set fire to the lingering joke poised to roll off his tongue, withering his courage and conviction into ashes. The both of you didn’t know what to do; how to react.

The bed had turned from an oasis to an impending warzone.

You shook out from your reverie first to pick up your phone, knuckles starkly pale and a clench in your jaw which reminded him of how the muscle would tighten just when you were about to cry.

But, you remained dry-eyed and brave, firm in your decision to end it with his nii-chan and choose him.

“Sae?”

Rin didn’t need you to put your phone on speaker to hear Sae’s impatient question which reverberated across the room like a distant echo; calling the both of you back to this grim reality—one where the afterglow of last night’s love-making could not protect.

“Where are you? You’re not home?”

“Hmm? What do you mean—?”

The colour drained from your cheeks and Rin’s breathing was lodged painfully in his throat when he heard the faint murmur of his brother’s next words—sounding both confused and irritated at your absence.

“I’m standing outside your apartment,” A deathly pause where two guilty souls and one oblivious one engaged in this fatal romance, this dangerous dance which was waiting to explode up in flames across the screen like a car crash one can’t look away from.

“I’m back home, baby. Where are you?”

©️lalunanymph

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