#Big Sky athletes

[athleticperfection1]

Sacramento State Track & Field

[jawny-bravo]

.....why she kinda..

[appalamutte]

one of the perks of my job is i can just wear casual clothes. one of the downfalls of my job is i can just wear casual clothes.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

what are some ways to describe people other than eye and hair color

I am assuming you are looking for physical descriptors. Here are some examples. I may just make a different post on psychological descriptors.

Arms: Long, Muscular, Pudgy, Short, Skinny, Thin

Back: Bent, Hunched, Ramrod Straight, Rounded

Build: Anorexic, Athletic, Beefy, Brawny, Burly, Chubby, Coltish, Compact, Fat, Gangly, Gaunt, Gawky, Haggard, Heavy-set, Herculean, Husky, Lanky, Lithe, Muscular, Obese, Overweight, Petite, Rangy, Reed-like, Scrawny, Skinny, Slender, Slight, Solid, Spindly, Statuesque, Stocky, Strapping, Sylphlike, Taut, Thickset, Thin, Trim, Underweight, Voluptuous, Well-built, Willowy, Withered

Cheeks: Blushing, Bold, Curved, Dimpled, Bold, Curved, Dimpled, Disturbed, Glorious, Glowing, Hairless, High (cheekbones), Hollow, Honey, Livid, Pale, Pallid, Pink, Plump, Puffy, Radiant, Reddened, Rosy, Rounded, Ruddy, Shining, Smooth, Soft, Sun-burnt, Sun-bronzed, Sunken, Sun-tanned, Tanned, Tearful, White

Chin: Angular, Bony, Bumpy, Chiseled, Defined, Doughy, Firm, Protruding, Round, Smooth, Soft, Square, Strong

Ears: Jug-like, Large, Protruding, Tiny

Eyebrows: Arching, Bushy, Emphasized, Near, Spaced, Thick, Thin

Eyelashes: Artificial, Beaded, Beautiful, Blinking, Dark, Dark-fringed, Dense, Dusky, Heavily-fringed, Long, Mascaraed, Sandy, Sooty, Sopping, Tear-drenched, Thick, Uplifted

Eyes: Almond-shaped, Bright, Bulging, Expressive, Frightened, Gentle, Languishing, Little, Luminous, Made-up, Round, Shining, Shortsighted, Smart, Stunned, Thin, Wide, Woeful

Face: Baby, Blood-stained, Bold, Chiseled, Contorted, Dead, Expressionless, Fair, Familiar, Fierce, Flat, Frightened, Furrowed, Honest, Indifferent, Little, Pale, Poker, Pretty, Radiant, Rough, Ruddy, Sallow, Square, Stained, Swollen, Trim, Weather-beaten, Wry

Feet: Athlete's, Big, Flat, Pigeon-toed, Small, Sore, Stinky, Stubby, Swollen

Fingers: Gnarled, Long, Short, Stubby

Finger Nails: Bitten, Broken, Claw-like, Dirty, Hooked, Long, Painted, Sharp, Talon-like

Hair: Afro, Bald, Beehive, Braided, Bristles, Bun, Chignon, Coiffure, Combed, Corkscrew, Corn rows, Cowlicked, Crew cut, Curly, Disarrayed, Disheveled, Dreadlocks, Dry, Flattop, Flecked, French braid, French twist, Fringe, Greasy, Grizzled, Knotted, Layered, Locks, Matted, Messed up, Mohawk, Mussy, Muttonchops, Neat, Oily, Page boy, Perm, Pigtails, Plait, Pompadour, Ponytail, Ragged, Receding, Ringlets, Ruffled, Shaggy, Shorn, Shoulder-length, Skinhead, Spiky, Split-ended, Straight, Tangled, Thick, Thinning, Tidy, Topknot, Tousled, Twisted, Uncombed, Unshorn, Untidy, Wavy, Wiry, Wisps

Hand: Big, Elegant, Small

Height: Big, Knee-high, Medium, Short, Shoulder-high, Sky-high, Small, Tall, Towering, Waist-high

Legs: Amputated, Bandy, Bony, Bowed, Brawny, Bulging, Fluted, Gartered, Gouty, Graceful, Hacked, Hairy, Jagged, Knotted, Leaden, Long, Lower, Muscular, Pitiful, Rickety, Shapely, Shivering, Short, Sinewy, Slender, Slim, Spindle, Stockinged, Sturdy, Thin, Thread-like, Tinder, Tiny, Toothsome, Tree trunks

Lips: Blue, Cracked, Cupid's Bow, Downturned, Dry, Fat, Full, Grim, Large, Luscious, Parched, Parted, Red, Ruby, Small, Smiling, Thin, Wet

Mouth: Arch, Ascetic, Baby, Cavernous, Churning, Compressed, Cooing, Coral, Cracked, Cruel, Delicate, Dumpled, Distended, Dry, Fine, Firm, Frothy, Full, Funnel-shaped, Gaping, Grim, Handsome, Hungry, Insistent, Irritable, Large, Luscious, Munching, Musty, Perilous, Puckered, Querulous, Relaxed, Resolute, Sardonic, Sensuous, Serious, Slobbering, Small, Sulky, Sweet, Tender, Thin, Wide, Winsome, Wrinkled, Yawning

Neck: Bullnecked, Elegant, Long, Short, Swan-like, Thick

Palm: Broad, Oval, Rectangular, Square

Skin: Acned, Alabaster, Albino, Apricot, Black, Blemished, Blistered, Blooming, Blotchy, Blushing, Bronzed, Cadaverous, Calloused, Caramel, Clear, Craggy, Cream, Ebony, Fair, Flush, Freckled, Glowing, Greasy, Ivory, Jaundiced, Leathery, Lily-white, Lined, Milky, Mottled, Nut-brown, Olive, Pale, Pallid, Pasty, Peeling, Pimpled, Pink, Pitted, Pockmarked, Red, Rosy, Rough, Ruddy, Russet, Sallow, Scabby, Scarred, Smooth, Splotchy, Spotty, Sun-burnt, Tan, Wan, Waxen, White, Wrinkled, Yellow

Stomach: Bulging, Distended, Empty, Firm, Flabby, Flat, Heroic, Hollow, Lean, Paunchy, Protruding, Unbounded

Teeth: Artificial, Black, Blunted, Buck, Canine, Chattering, Clenched, Clinched, Compressed, Crooked, Dagger-like, Dazzling, Decayed, Deciduous, Extracted, False teeth, Feeble, Ferocious, Filed, Flashing, Fluoridated, Foam-laced, Fractured, Gap-toothed, Gleaming, Glistening, Glittering, Gnashing, Goofy, Grinding, Hooked, Horrid, Ivory, Jagged, Lacquered, Large, Milky, Mottled, Neglected, Pearly, Perfect, Pretty, Protruding, Razor-like, Sharp, Shining, Short, Small, Snowy, Sore, Spaced, Straight, Sweet tooth, Tender, Tiny, Toothless, Toothy, Ugly, Unrelenting, White, Wisdom, Wolfish, Yellow

Hope this helps! If it does, do tag me or send me a link to your writing. I'd love to read your work.

More: On Character Development

[mondoreb]

End Times Prophecy Headlines: April 4, 2023

End Times Prophecy Report.com HEADLINES TUESDAY April 4 2023 And OPINION “And Jesus answered and said unto them, Take heed that no man deceive you.” —Matthew 24:4 “The best way to keep a prisoner from escaping is to make sure he never knows he’s in prison.” —Fyodor Dostoevsky ===INTERNATIONAL UKRAINE: Russia releases video of woman detained over pro-war blogger’s death; Finland to officially…

[lightsoutletsgo]

pretty girl — op.81 (18+)

pairing: oscar piastri x plus-size!reader

word count: 5.1k

warnings: 18+ !! body insecurity, SMUT SMUT SMUT, ABSOLUTE UTTER FILTH; spanking, use of 'sir', creampie x 2 (don’t be silly, wrap ur willy !!), oscar eating you out after cumming inside you, squirting, light choking, Oscar has an obsession with calling you angel, wayyyyy too many pet names @jamminvroomvroom I'm not sorry in the slightest jas 🤭 enjoy! mwah ₊˚❀.ೃ࿔*:･

You weren’t sure how it had started. Maybe it was the pressure online. Maybe it was the ‘fans’. Maybe it was just your own damn mind, but something was eating away at you. It wasn’t Oscar though. Never Oscar. He loved you to no end, treated you like royalty, looked at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky and created the moon with your own hands. 

But sometimes even Oscar’s adoration and affection couldn’t stop the voices in your head from creeping in and planting the seeds of lies in your head; ‘he could do so much better’, ‘you’re not enough’, ‘you need to be better’, ‘you’re not worth his time’, ‘he’s with you out of sympathy’. 

You pulled up your t-shirt and stared at your underwear-clad body. You frowned and glared at your reflection in the mirror, before poking your stomach once again. You turned to the side and noticed how much bigger your thighs were than they had been a few months ago. Your eyes were drawn to the stretch marks that decorated your hips and upper legs, courtesy of your body growing too quickly to keep up with itself. You spotted every single speck of cellulite or mark that made your body look imperfect. 

You looked disgusting. 

At least that’s how you felt. 

You hadn’t always felt like this either. Once, there had been a time when you loved your body, your curves and all of your flaws. But dating a professional athlete, especially one as visually perfect as Oscar, meant you were prone to hate. It had started with a few small comments, that eventually grew into a whole flood of messages and abuse that just got too much. You had let it get to you.

You weren’t yourself anymore. Even you could see that. You didn’t smile as much anymore, and when you did, the smiles weren’t real. They were fake. You felt like you were living from one day to the next, not sure when you woke up the next morning whether you were thankful for that or not. You hardly left the house anymore. Your friends all seemed like the flawless poster girls and you were the odd one out. You’d even begun to push Oscar away from you, instead choosing to lock yourself away. 

Skipping meals had become a regular habit and it was no longer uncommon for you to spend up to twelve hours a week in the gym. It wasn’t just your weight and figure though. When you were out with Oscar you didn’t feel like you looked good enough to be able to stand next to him, let alone hold his hand and walk with him through the paddock in front of all those cameras. Today was day three of you being completely incommunicado with the outside world, and Oscar was worried about you. He had called you and texted you but there was no answer. He called your friends who all said that they too were worried and hadn’t had any answer from you. 

So there you stood in your underwear wearing one of the few of Oscar’s oversized t-shirts that fitted you, pulled up to your chin whilst you inspected and scrutinised your body. You hadn’t noticed the front door unlock, or heard the footsteps coming down the hallway. You heard your bedroom door open and you turned to see Oscar. He visibly exhaled as he saw that you were okay. But then he noticed. How red and puffy your eyes were from crying and how big the dark bags that lined your eyes were from lack of sleep. He slowly made his way across the room to stand in front of you.

You looked down at the floor unable to make eye contact. You felt embarrassed that he was seeing you in this state. You attempted to pull his t-shirt down to cover your thighs as you felt his gaze travel up and down your body. He grabbed your wrist, and brought it up to his lip as he kissed the inside of your wrist. He gently kissed up your arm and over your shoulder before kissing along your collarbones and up your neck. He stopped once he got to your lips and pulled back to look you in the eyes. His heart broke as he watched one single tear trickle down your face and then another and another until eventually your whole body was wracking with convulsive sobs. He pulled you into his chest tightly and held you close. 

Neither of you were sure how long you stood there for, but that didn’t matter. In that moment, all you needed was him, and he was more than happy to provide the comfort you needed. Once your crying had subsided he led you to the bed. You both led down, his arms wrapped around you as you led on his chest. “Y/N?” He said gently, rubbing his hand up and down your arm to help soothe you. “Yeah?” You said sniffling and snuggling into him more. “You know that I love you more than anything right?” He said, staring down at you and kissing the top of your head. You gave a weak scoff, “Yeah right…” Oscar squeezed you tight “I do!” You pulled away from him and sat up “Why?” “Because-“ He started, “Because I’ll tell you why you shouldn’t. I’m disgusting Oscar. I’m fat, I have stretch marks and my thighs are covered in cellulite. I don’t deserve you Osc can’t you see that? Your fans hate me and it’s making me hate myself!” You finished, slightly out of breath and you felt a new wave of tears fall from your eyes. Oscar sat up so you were sitting opposite each other. “Stop.” He commanded, “I don’t wanna hear anymore of that.” He spoke almost angrily; you looked up at him to meet his gaze. He looked like he was about to cry too, “You’re beautiful, angel, can’t you see that?” He said his voice cracking as he reached for your hands, “So what if you’re squishy? I love that about you.” You frowned; slightly confused that this was your boyfriend’s attempt to comfort you. 

“Angel, I will call you squishy and you will be mine, and you will be my squishy!” He said, quoting Finding Nemo as he squeezed your cheeks, forcing your lips into a pout. You giggled at your boyfriend and he smiled, “I don’t care what my ‘fans’ say, they’re not in this relationship, it’s me and you. Your weight doesn’t matter to me. So what if you have larger hips? It just means there’s more of you to love. Plus…” he trailed off for a moment, hands moving down to squeeze your hips, “you aren’t gonna break if things get a little... rough.” He said winking at you. “Stretch marks and cellulite? Angel, you aren’t the only one who has them. Honestly you’re stunning baby.” His compliments made you look down but you smiled slightly, touched by his words.

“See, your smile is beautiful!” He said, gently lifting your chin back up to look at him. “Babe, I also know that you’ve been skipping meals, so how about we order some pizza and watch Finding Nemo?” he suggested, you nodded before leaning up to connect your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Oscar?” You said, as you broke apart, leaning your foreheads together. “Hmmm?” “Thank you.” You said sincerely before he pulled you onto his lap and began to kiss you again, his hands gently creeping underneath the hem of his t-shirt.

Oh well… The pizza could wait.

You sighed into his mouth as he gently bit your bottom lip, pulling away and tugging as his eyes darkened. “Need to see you angel… fuck please?” You nodded shyly, hands slowly dropping to the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing as Oscar’s hand comfortingly rubbed your thighs, tracing gentle circles with his thumbs. You hadn’t had sex in a while. Too terrified to let him see your body and too worried about your insecurities. The last time you’d slept together you’d asked to leave the lights off and keep your t-shirt on. Oscar had been confused and he had obliged then - but no more. He was determined to show you just how damn sexy he found you. 

Oscar noticed your hesitation. “Hold on angel” He pulled away from you slightly to pull his t-shirt over his head. “Look at my back.” He turned and sat facing away from you as your hands delicately traced over the slightly raised zigzag marks that stretched over his back and shoulders… They looked similar to the marks on your stomach and hips that haunted you. “Y-you have them too?” Your voice was quiet and timid as Oscar gave a soft smile, nodding his head, “I went through a pretty quick growth spurt when I was in school and then another one when I got into F2… I always hated looking at them too… until I realised that they were a part of my body and a part of my story of how I’d grown, become stronger, learned what my body could do and what I was capable of.” Your eyes filled with tears as he turned back to face you, “Do you love me any less now you’ve seen them?” 

You shook your head furiously, “Of course not!” “Then why do you hate them so much when you see them on yourself? Do you think I love you any less just because you have them?” Your eyes filled with tears once more as he slowly pushed you to lie down on the bed, crawling on top of you.“Because let me tell you angel… whenever I see them…” His hands dropped to the hem of your t-shirt, sliding it up to expose your hips and panties “They make me feel…” He leaned down to press kisses to the lines across your hips between each word,“ So” kiss “fucking’” kiss, “feral…” 

“Your cute tummy?” He paused to blow raspberries on your soft stomach making you squeal with laughter “adorable!” “Your thighs…” He moved back down slightly to bite at them, making your back arch and a soft moan tumble from your lips. “I think about having them wrapped around my head about 7 times a day… and fuck angel…” He slid his hands underneath your ass and squeezed, “This ass? Might just take the title of world’s best ass…” You giggled as you reach down to cup his face,

“Actually baby I’m pretty sure that title belongs to Bottas” He moved up your body and paused as he thought for a moment before nodding, “True…” He nodded jokingly before leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. He left hot open mouth kisses against your neck and collarbones, making you squirm and let out breathy moans. Distracted by how good he was making you feel, you didn’t realise his hands were moving your t-shirt up until he sat you up slightly to pull it over your head.

You fell back against the sheets wearing just your panties as Oscar knelt over you, you heard him inhale through his teeth as he drank in the sight of your soft, plush body in his bed, “Wanna take you so badly angel…” His hands were everywhere as he grabbed your hips, your thighs, your ass, your breasts. Like he couldn’t get enough of you. “Touch me please Osc” He stared down at you, smirking slightly, “Where do you want me to touch you angel?” Your face grew hot and your heart rate sped up. You knew what he wanted you to say. Even after this long it still flustered you. “Want you t-to touch m-my pussy… p-please.” He cooed at you as his hand stroked your cheek, “Good girl…” One hand dropped to your pussy as he pushed your panties to one side, a single finger trailing up your slit, collecting the arousal already dripping out of you, finger moving to his mouth in an effort to tease you - it worked.You whined and shook your hips impatiently as he chuckled lowly, “I’ve got you sweet girl…” His fingers moved back to your entrance, slowly pushing one in as more needy whines tumbled from your mouth, “Please Oscar, want it, need it!” He smiled down at you, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your mound, “Fuck you’re such a good girl, you know that right? My. good. girl.” He emphasised each word with a curl of his fingers to graze against your g-spot. “Oscar- Sir!” He growled at your use of that specific title and pushed another finger in, head falling back in a silent moan at how tight you feel around his fingers. “You’re so needy for me angel, hmmm?” He pouted in mock sympathy, “s’okay baby I’ll take care of you.” 

He leant over your torso, softly kissing your breasts and leaving pretty red and purple marks to decorate your chest along with your stretch marks, “So fucking pretty… should be in a museum or a gallery…” he mumbled as he admired his artwork, your arms moving to wrap around his neck, pulling him down until his forehead rested against yours. Your hips bucked up into his hand as he continued to thrust his fingers into your pussy, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit. He paused for a moment, growling at the way your panties got in the way “Oscar!” you exclaimed as he ripped them off of you, “I‘ll buy you some new ones angel, it’s fine…” He quickly pushed his fingers back into your tight hole as you felt a warm sensation growing in your lower stomach. 

“That feeling good pretty girl?” He crooned down at you almost condescendingly as his fingers sped up. Breathy moans and whiney pants were all that left your mouth as you could feel yourself climbing higher towards that peak, the coil in your stomach threatening to burst. “Such a good girl for me, so sweet angel” Oscar growled above you, “Fuck! Oscar-” you wailed out as he leant down to bite your neck, teeth nipping, sure to leave a mark. “You’re mine angel… my pretty girl…” Those words were the last push you needed as you felt your orgasm explode. Your eyes shut tightly as your legs tensed up, thighs closing and locking Oscar’s hand between them. He chuckled at your out-of-breath form and pressed soft kisses to your hairline as he calmed you down, gently praising you. “Such a good girl, you’re so beautiful angel, love you so much…” You smiled up at him, hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him down to meet your lips, hot and passionate. “Want you inside me Oscar please!” You mumbled against his lips, he pulled back, stripping his lower half of his sweats and underwear, “Course angel... “ Your head tilted to one side in confusion when you saw him lie down next to you on the bed. He patted his thighs, “Want you to ride me pretty girl, wanna see my gorgeous girl on top of me.” You faltered as you heard his words, “I don’t know Osc I-” “Y/N,” he sat up suddenly, the use of your name showing you he was serious, “I want you to do this… Not just for me but for you too. You’re perfect my love… I love you because of who you are as a person. Your insanely hot body is just a bonus…” He grabbed your hands, gently helping you straddle his thighs. “So… come and take what’s yours angel…”

You climbed on top of him, sliding your wet cunt up and down his shaft which was throbbing against his abdomen. Hot and hard, you could feel yourself salivating at the thought of him sliding into you and stretching your pussy. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby, you want my cock in your pretty little pussy?” You whined needily, hands falling to Oscar’s chest, nails digging in slightly as you grinded even faster, “H-help please…” you begged. Oscar gently shushed you, one hand reaching down to grasp his cock and push it into you, “There you go baby, take your time- that’s it.” His hands gently caressed up and down your plush sides, gripping the flesh and relishing in the way his fingers sank into your soft hips and thighs. “Look at you… you’re fuckin delicious…” His head fell back as you sank all the way down to the hilt, a desperate moan leaving your lips at the slight sting you felt. No matter how many times you took Oscar’s cock, the stretch was always delectable. “Fuck! Your pussy is so tight… you gonna milk my cock angel?” You nodded desperately, starting up a slow rhythm, your tits bouncing slightly as your ass slapped against his thighs.

Between the two of you, the room was filled with the most pornographic noises, moans, whines, skin-on-skin and the sounds of your wet cunt. Your eyes shut as your head fell back, speeding your pace up. “Look at you… you’re a goddess, baby…” Oscar couldn’t take his eyes away from your form, a light sheen of sweat covered your body as your breasts and thighs jiggled with each firm slam of your hips. Your eyes slowly fluttered shut as your lips parted, releasing the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. How could you ever think you were not beautiful? One of his hands snaked down from your hips and began to rub your clit with his thumb, making your walls spasm around him. He growled out a low moan. “Oscar… Sir!” You cried out, “gonna cum!” You nails raked down his chest as you felt his thick cock reach deep into you, tip touching your cervix. “Shit!” Oscar hissed as he felt your nails digging in, desperately grabbing onto him in an effort to keep yourself from floating away. He grabbed your hips, lifting you up and down slightly to help you keep moving on his cock. “You close? Hmmm?” You nodded, flopping down onto his chest as the burning in your thighs forced you to give out, “I’ll help you angel don’t worry,” Oscar soothed you as his hands wrapped around your back, planting his feet on the bed to begin thrusting up into you. “You feel so so good angel, such a sweet little cunt…”

You mewled in response as his hips pistoned into you. “Please, please, please, please please- oh fuck!” Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, so sudden it overtook your whole body, feeling it in every limb from your fingertips to your toes. “There you go, atta girl…” Oscar crooned as his thrusts became uneven, he spilled into you, cock throbbing as his cum filled your pussy. “Milk my cock that’s it…” he moaned as your quivering cunt continued to spasm around him. 

He planted kisses all over your face, making you giggle as his arms tightened around you. You led against his chest for a moment, head fuzzy from the intensity of your orgasm, before you realised you could quite possibly be squashing your boyfriend. You gasped and shot up to roll off of him but his arms stayed firmly locked around you, leaving you unable to move, “Oscar…” You struggled a little making him laugh, “Oh absolutely not sweetheart, you are staying right here, until I say so.” You continued wriggling much to his disdain and you whimpered as a sharp spank landed against your ass cheek “Oscar!” He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at you, “Then will you behave?” You looked away, face burying into his neck once more, “Just don’t wanna squash you…” Oscar sighed contentedly, “I love how it feels when you squash me though?” You scoffed and another spank hit your ass, slightly harder than the last. Your hips wiggled and squirmed and Oscar grunted at how sensitive he was, gripping your hips to still you once again.

“Easy there sweet girl…” His voice was right there in your ear and the closeness sent shivers down your spine, pussy clenching around him subconsciously. “Oh that’s it.” Oscar growled, sitting up with you still in his lap, “Wha– Oscar?!” “I’m not fucking joking around baby.” You looked at him, his eyes flashing with lust and you felt that fire ignite in your tummy again. Oh you were so fucked. He gripped your chin softly, lips hovering right above your own, “I’m gonna lie back down,” your eyes rolled back as you practically felt his words against your lips, “and you’re gonna sit on my face.” Your eyes shot open, “R-really?” His answer was placing his lips over yours, biting and sucking your bottom lip, his hands guiding your hips to grind in his lap as your hands gripped his shoulders, “Really.” He led back down and you whined as he slid himself out of you, his cum dripping down your thighs already, “Wait, but… you came insi–” “It’s my mess isn’t it? So I should clean it up.” You practically melted on the spot as he beckoned you towards him, “Now come here angel and take a seat… Every goddess needs a throne right?”

You giggled despite how serious he was being and crawled up his body until his face was right underneath your pussy. You knelt up, hands grabbing the headboard as Oscar traced gentle kisses over your thighs, hands grabbing your ass. You could feel his breath against your pussy lips and you clenched around nothing, another drop of his cum and your wetness dripping down to where his mouth was ready and waiting. He moaned at the taste of the two of you mixed together and decided enough was enough. Gripping your ass tighter he licked a long stripe from your entrance up to your clit, landing a quick little kiss against your sensitive bud for good measure.

You giggled out a moan at the feeling, but Oscar was frustrated, “Angel, I told you to sit on my face.” “I am!” Oscar rolled his eyes, “No you’re hovering… I told you to fucking sit–” His arms wrapped round your hips and pulled you down onto his face, moaning loudly as he was suddenly smothered by your cunt, causing a whimper to leave your mouth at the vibrations Oscar ate you out like a man starved, tongue fucking your pussy and nose rubbing against your clit as one of your hands flew to his hair, pulling and tugging as you couldn’t help the way your hips started grinding against his tongue, “Fuck. Yes angel…”, “that’s it”, “just like that”, Oscar gasped out between breaths as he drowned in your pussy. You looked down and gasped. He looked feral. His eyes rolling back as he licked and sucked every inch of your pussy he could get too. 

He pulled you up for a moment and you panicked slightly, were you hurting him? He must have seen your expression because he was quick to run his hands up and down your hips in a soothing manner, “I need you to use my face angel, grind on my tongue, fuck my face okay baby?” “What if I suffocate you?” Oscar groaned, “What a perfect fucking way to go…” He trailed off as you dropped your pussy back onto his waiting tongue, following his instructions and grinding your soaking cunt back and forth.

The noises Oscar was making were driving you crazy and each growl, moan and praise had you moving even more enthusiastically. A loud whine escaped you as his nose caught your sensitive clit at just the right angle.You could feel it building in your stomach, rising up from your toes all the way to the top of your head. “Fuck Osc, feels so fuckin good…” You mumbled out, barely able to form a sentence. A grunt from Oscar told you he was happy to hear that, “Yeah? Don’t stop angel.” “W-want more…” Your voice was breathy as he continued to push you towards the edge, “What d’you need?” “Your hands on my ass… Please?” You begged, “Already touchin’” “N-no please… harder… wanna see your handprint on my ass…” You squealed as a heavy swat fell against your ass, “Oh my god Oscar, fuck yes!” You cried out, “More! Harder! Make me fucking take it, I’ll be so good for you Osc I promise!” You babbled out as you felt the way he made your ass sting over and over and you couldn’t help the way you grabbed his hair tighter as you felt him fucking smile against your pussy, “I’m gonna cum… Oscar…” You warned him but that only seemed to invigorate him, the most obscene noises coming from your boyfriend between your legs, “Fucking soak me baby come on… please fuck…” Oscar was practically begging into your pussy as your hips stuttered, head falling back as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Oscar groaned as your pussy leaked your orgasm into his mouth, leaving gentle licks and soft kisses over your clit to help you ride out your high.

You slumped to the side, not wanting to actually suffocate your boyfriend and your eyes widened when you saw how hard he was, his cock pink and pretty and throbbing. Oscar was unashamed as he brought one hand down to stroke himself, neck straining. “Can’t help it angel, it’s just what you do to me…” You watched, transfixed, as your boyfriend slowly and leisurely fucked his hand. You felt yourself salivate and you leaned forward, gently blowing cool air across the tip. You watched as it throbbed and leaked more precum. Oscar watched you through half-lidded eyes as you made yourself comfortable between his legs. “Having fun there angel?” You nodded, looking up at him and looking into his eyes, “Just wanna return the favour…” You pressed a kiss to the tip and giggled at the way he shivered and goosebumps ran along his thighs, “Behave angel…” You nodded, tongue peeking out from your mouth to kitten lick the tip. Oscar groaned one hand gently smoothed your head, “so fuckin’ good to me… but this is about you…” He sat up and gently cupped your face with his hand, “I love you, so much.” He said the words with so much conviction you felt your eyes get glassy, “I love you too…” His lips met yours more softly, more intimately than they had before. You felt his thumb gently trace over your cheek as you tasted yourself and him on his tongue. That thought drove you crazy and you found yourself pulling him closer to you as your other hand grabbed the back of his head and gently pulled the hair there. He moaned, a beautiful sound and his open mouth allowed you to slip your tongue inside, sucking and licking gently on his.

You pulled apart and noticed how your lips were still connected by the spit dripping from both of your mouths. God sex with him was always so hot. It seemed he still wasn’t done with you though as he indicated for you to turn around. You did so and caught sight of your body in the mirror. You gasped at how fucked out you looked. Oscar smirked as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. One hand sliding round your plush tummy and the other sliding up to gently hold your neck. He kissed your neck, “Look at you angel… my pretty girl, all fucking mine.” You leaned back against him and he smiled, “So now you’re gonna watch me remind you that you’re mine. You’re gonna watch how well you take me, how your body was made for mine, how pretty you look when I make you cum." He gently pushed you forward until you were on all fours.

You felt him line himself up with your pussy behind you and you felt like the air was knocked out of you as he thrust in in one smooth motion. He felt so much bigger, thicker, deeper at this angle. The look on his face told you he was feeling how much tighter this angle was too. His hands used your hips as leverage as he languidly thrust in and out of you. You hummed happily as you felt a sharp sting across your asscheek in the shape of his handprint. That reaction spurred Oscar on and your moans got louder as his thrusts got harder, pounding into you, his hips slamming into your ass with a satisfying slap. 

Your head dropped to the comforter at the way his cock dragged against your walls, setting your nerves alight. He leaned forward over the top of you and grabbed your throat once more, “Oh nuh uh angel… look,” His eyes met yours through the mirror, “you don’t get to look away… just watch how pretty you look while I fuck you…” You couldn’t help the way your eyes closed, the feeling too good to deny, Oscar tutted loudly and stopped moving his hips in and out, instead circling them while he was deep inside you. You couldn’t make any noise, just let your mouth hang open. You shuddered and whined, desperately humping back onto his cock. “Oh fuck me angel…” Oscar’s hand quickly found your clit and you whimpered loudly, “I’m not gonna last much longer!” “Me either angel, it’s okay…” Your eyes shot open as you suddenly felt a familiar sensation between your legs, “Oscar…” you warned him, his head dropped to your shoulder as his hips began rolling into yours again, “I know angel, I feel it, it’s okay… make a pretty mess for me.” His head looked back up to make eye contact with you once more, “Cum for me angel.” He whispered and it was like a trigger had been pulled.

With a loud cry, your whole body shook. White-hot pleasure spilling over, toes curling and walls clenching tightly as you soaked your boyfriend’s cock and his hand, squirting all over the sheets below,  “Fuckkkk angel yes yes yes just like that!” You felt his thrusts speed up as he pushed himself to another orgasm. His cock throbbed so hard inside you that you felt it and you hummed contentedly, filled up with Oscar’s cum once more. “Holy shit baby…” Oscar planted kisses down your back as he moved to pull out of you. You shuddered at the feeling of his cock pulling out.Oscar flopped onto his back and opened his arms, a silent invitation to cuddle, “I love you.” A soft kiss landed against your forehead, “I love you.” A kiss to his chest, “You’re so beautiful Y/N, I mean it. My pretty girl.” He squeezed you tighter in his arms and you giggled.  “So,” he sighed contentedly, “how about that pizza?” 

[meltedbluecaterpillar]

I Don’t Care!: Octavinelle

Heartslabyul - Savanaclaw - Scarabia - Pomfiore - Ignihyde - Diasomnia

Romantic Jealousy: Based on real or imagined threats to a romantic relationship. There could be a history of infidelity or flirtations; however, this could also be solely based on insecurities. Sexual/Suspicious Jealousy: Based on fears that a partner may have cheated or be engaged in inappropriate communication.

Does he get jealous?

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul has personal insecurities. But that isn't something that you should concern yourself with, it isn't a big deal. But when he sees you talking with Jamil something felt off...

Azul pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose with a soft 'click'. The three of you were in the library comparing notes. Usually it was just the two of you together, Azul generously would lend you everything he had since he was always prepared for every class. But today... Jamil was here for some reason.

His eyes only looking at you. Not the work before him. Azul made no effort to comment. This was something he didn't need to fuss over. You and Jamil are friends. You are allowed to have friends. Friends that Azul didn't feel threatened by. He listened as the two of you talked. He tapped his pen against the paper in front of him. Occasionally stealing a glance at Jamil. He's handsome. Very handsome. Fortunately for Azul, Jamil has nothing to offer you except living alongside him under Kalim.

That couldn't be something you wanted. Azul has everything and more. Maybe he couldn't see very well on land sure. He still gets mixed up with human legs on occasion yes... He isn't the most athletic among his peers and maybe he does have a complex... But you chose him. Not Jamil. He started to grip the pen tighter, the plastic creaked in his fist as he adjusted his glasses again.

If you wanted a good time you just had to say so. No reason to hide in plain sight.

"Azul, are you okay?" Your voice snapped him out of a trance. His sky blue eyes met yours with an expression of shock. "Oh! Forgive me, I was lost in thought." He smiled gently with a soft laugh. His grip on his pen relaxed. There was the soft scoot of the chair, and Jamil stood. "That's my cue. Kalim needs to eat soon anyway." The tanned student sighed and collected his notebook, tucking it under his arm as he offered you a wave and a smile. The smile felt far more than friendly. Then his cold grey eyes met Azul's. "Thanks." He smirked before walking off.

Azul nodded, and started to think of different ways to make someone go missing. A fantasy of course. He really doesn’t care what the two of you have going on. He’s certain it’s just friendly.

Jade Leech

Jade doesn't think jealousy is something necessary to feel between you. But something about seeing you and Trey really started to bother him.

Jade looked around the Heartslabyul kitchen in silent awe. It wasn't often he came to visit. He previously had no reason to. But, Trey had given you a personal invite to today's UnBirthday Party. Naturally, you invited Jade as your plus one. The two of you are dating. Jade had mentally prepared himself for the extreme levels of sugar he would have to intake today. But apparently there were still treats to be baked and served before the party.

Trey had actually invited you as an extra set of hands. Jade didn't mind. You always got yourself roped into helping someone in some way. It was part of your charm that he adored. You and Trey were getting along, you happily assisted him with whatever he needed and Jade… Supervised? Moreso observed your interactions.

He was like a fly on the wall. Silently leaning against an island counter as you chatted along with Trey, washing away the flour and sugar from your palms. You looked so happy it was something Jade struggled to comprehend. Why did you look so happy? Jade couldn’t remember the last time he saw you smiling so hard. When he heard you laugh so hard the sound bounced off of the walls. What is it about Trey that could effortlessly get this reaction from you?

You and Trey soon parted. The baker was going to check on the freshman. Leaving you and Jade alone to monitor the treats. “Did you have fun?” The eel asked as you came over with a beaming smile. You did have fun. And while Jade was busy in dreamland, you told him how there was a special tart waiting for him.

Something with mushrooms, so at least he didn’t have to overdose on sugar like the rest of the partygoers. It was your idea, and Trey was happy to help. That’s why the two of you came today. Jade exhaled a soft breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Next came a soft ‘thank you’ as his eyes trailed down sheepishly to the tips of his shoes.

Of course you loved him more than Trey. That’s why you’re still with him. And that’s all Jade cared about in the end.

Floyd Leech

Floyd has no trouble vocalizing his feelings. Especially seeing you getting friendly with Epel was hard to swallow.

Floyd was far from stupid. And he knew Epel was too. He sat next to you on the MagiShift sidelines. His legs outstretched. His arms crossed over his chest. His posture slumped in the foldable plastic chair. His eyes watched Epel dart back and forth with his teammates in the cool autumn air.

Floyd invited himself. You were the manager of the team thanks to Epel begging and Leona groaning about certain responsibilities he didn’t want. So you had to spend your time elsewhere. Meaning not with Floyd. He honestly didn’t care what you did in your free time. As long as it didn’t obstruct what he wanted to do and when he wanted to spend time with you. And unfortunately, playing captain was bothering him. Epel had started getting too comfortable for the eel’s enjoyment.

Brushing against you, subtly dropping an inside joke, bombing your phone with texts containing who knows what. And so Floyd brought himself to the field. You were talking with coach Vargas, unaware of Epel’s obvious attempts to get your attention. It was sad, really. The thought of someone the size of Floyd’s legs trying to make you swoon. It was frustrating to watch.

Floyd wasn’t against being cordial. But he would make his dislike known regardless of anyone else’s feelings. You came over to Floyd wearing a large jacket. One that MagiShift players usually wore. “What’s that for?” The merman motioned with a lazy flick of his finger, pointing at you. It was Epel’s jacket. He offered it from his gym bag since you looked cold.

Gross. Floyd had plenty he wanted to say to you. To Epel. But he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He only grunted and turned his attention back to Epel flying around. It was incorrect to say that Floyd doesn’t care about this feeling bubbling up inside of him. But it wasn’t something he would take out on you.

He planned to take it out on Epel the moment his feet touched the ground again.

[roosterbruiser]

If it's not too early to request for the sleepover.... this prompt with Jake “next time we get into an argument, i’m reminding you that i took your virginity.” 🥰

it's just how you and Jake operate. you get into little tizzies--about everything, about nothing, about dinner, about the weather, about driving, about the dog, about the overhead light in the living room.

they're no big deal--not really. usually the two of you are grinning in exasperation, rolling your eyes playfully, blowing raspberries in jest when the other gets the upper-hand. there's never any yelling, never any true anger. just a slight back-and-forth, one accompanied by little pinches of the thigh and light nudges.

it's rare that any quarrel lasts more than a few minutes--which is why you're so frustrated right now.

"you're not listening," you accuse Jake, dragging your hand down your face.

the sun is beating down relentlessly, your hair hot to the touch and your shoulders beginning to darken.

Jake, standing beside you with his comically over-packed hiking backpack, throws his arms up in an exaggerated shrug.

"yeah, 'cause I don't listen to people when they're wrong," he says, squinting at you beneath his aviators. he gestures to the sign before you again. "it says the Peacock Trail is west. baby, I navigate for a living! don't you think I know my cardinals?"

groaning, you fidget with the rolled band of your biker shorts and then widen your eyes at him.

"yes, but--!"

"--no but's! just listen to the fighter pilot," Jake exclaims, glancing at you from the top of his aviators. he gives you an award-winning grin. one that makes you really, really steam. "and everything else will be gravy, baby."

stamping your foot into the dust, you sigh.

"we don't want to go on the Peacock Trail," you say shrilly. you point to the correct trail--the one you read extensively about the night before like you always do--and then glance at him. "we want to go on the Patriot Trail!"

Jake debates this for a moment, following your finger. and with an internal sigh but no outward change in his appearance, he realizes that you're right. shit. he hates it when that happens.

and here he is, standing in his athletic clothes and his over-stuffed backpack and his new tennis shoes, thinking he's hot shit. he glances at you--you haven't broken your dubious gaze from him.

even though he really hates not being right--like really, really hates not being right--he hates to truly exasperate you even more. besides, it's a beautiful day. a rare Saturday off paired with a blue sky and new hiking shoes and, best of all, you. everything else is just dust, he decides.

just as he's about to admit that he's wrong, just as he's about to tuck his tail between his legs, you grin at him.

"ha! you're wrong! you know you're wrong," you laugh, shaking your head at Jake as he stares back at you with his jaw slack. "trying to I'm a fighter-pilot me like that's ever worked."

"but I was just about to--!"

"--no but's! just listen to the fighter pilot's girlfriend and everything else will be gravy, baby," you say sweetly--and mockingly--before leaning up to peck his shocked lips.

you start for the trail--the correct trail--and Jake watches from a few paces behind. he's stunned, really. no one has ever returned his words so quickly, so fiercely before. Jesus.

but then you turn, squinting beneath the yellow sun, and give him a grin.

"c'mon, flyboy! time's a-wasting!"

flyboy. he hates that term.

"you know," Jake starts, finally moving his feet. "next time we argue, I'm so going to remind you that I took your virginity."

with a gasp, you halt and turn to him. there's that award-winning grin again.

"you wouldn't dare," you say quietly.

"oh, I would," he says, nodding emphatically. "I really, really would."

[saintzweig]

older next door neighbor!reader x stanford!art

– teehee :3 proofread? do you even know me (of course it's not)

– edit: i actually dont know how to feel abt this so please let me know what u think!!

art donaldson has been harboring a big fat crush on the girl next door for years now. you're two years older than him, already well into college by the time he got accepted into stanford. 4.0 GPA, a great volleyball player and you volunteer at animal shelters, his grandmother loves you– heck, every mother in town loves you. you used to come over atleast once a week, having dinner with him and his grandma. when you started tutoring to earn money, he had you over three times a week to help him even though his grades are doing fine. he reckons he can do better but really he just wants to have you to himself, the two of you locked in his room for hours. of course that changed when you left for college, choosing a university miles away and leaving him alone for the rest of his highschool years.

you come home every break which means that art does too, hoping to catch you and maybe show off a little. after all, he's a man now– he's on the stanford tennis team, he's won multiple tournaments and he's no longer the little nerd you've known since you were kids.

you come over one afternoon, bringing over some fresh brownies that you've made for art and his grandma. he opens the door shirtless, telling you he was just about to jump in the pool but really, he saw you walking over through the window and took his shirt off. he asks you if you want to maybe join, the weather's nice and all and much to his surprise, you agree, saying you have nothing going on anyways. you excuse yourself for a while, wanting to change into something more suitable and he prays it's the red bikini he's seen you wear before.

and it is. you come in and he offers you a cold beer. "beer huh? i didn't know you drink now, donaldson." you say with a slight grin, taking the bottle from him. he watches the way your hands wrapped around the bottle, images of your black manicured nails wrapped around his co–

he makes a comment about having done stuff in stanford, stopping himself from telling you that he's been drinking since he was a teenager, at the academy. with patrick. he doesn't miss the way your eyes lingered on his lips as took a swig of the beer, making him smirk subtly. he leads you to the backyard and you help yourself to a floatie while he sits on the edge of the pool. you paddle yourself softly to the water, leaning back and savoring the sunlight on your skin. he doesn't even try to hide the way he's staring at your chest, not that you can see anyways because your eyes are closed. "my grandma's having a poker game at one of her friend's so it's just us" he tells you.

you begin to ask him questions about his first year in college– how was tennis, how were the parties, any girls?

tennis was great, he says his coaches are really helping him improve and prepare to go pro. parties were crazy, it was loud and sweaty but he doesn't let himself get carried away, being an athlete and all. he's gotten on a few dates and he tells you he's been asked out alot, exaggerating a little bit to show off. you say you weren't surprised and he asks what you mean.

"i mean look at you, you're not bad looking. you're tall, blonde, athletic– girls dig that. you've gotten bigger too"

he smirks, "bigger?" and you only roll your eyes, leaning your head to look up the sky. he jumps in, walking over to you, crossing his arms over the floatie, making you shift slightly. his elbow touching your thigh. "what about you? any guys?" you hum, sipping on your beer. "there was one, but I don't know. didn't really work out" he asks why and you tell him you just don't see yourself dating someone on campus, they're all assholes who don't take anything seriously.

"have you ever dated anyone younger?" to which you raise a brow, only for him to tilt his head with a stupid grin on his face. you shake your head, "i heard younger guys can treat you very well." he says, and you knew exactly what he meant.

that's how you ended up sitting on the edge of the floatie, legs apart with art standing in between. you're leaning back on your arms while his hands are on your thighs, pulling you closer as he place kisses on your skin. your bikini is beginning to get wet, not just from the pool water. he looks up at you, water dripping down from his hair down to his face. "you don't know how long i've been waiting for this."

you almost whined at his expression, eyes wide as he looked up and lips plump, aching to taste you. you lift your hair to push back his curls and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes. "wanna show me how well you can treat me?" he thinks he just died and came back to life. in a second, your bottoms are untied and floating somewhere in the pool. fully exposed to him now, your cunt soft glistening in the sunlight. he lets out a soft cuss as he takes in the sight. "you sure about this?" you only nod, smiling down at him.

he kisses your sensitive clit, keeping his eyes on you as you throw your head back. he watches as your adams apple bob when you let out a moan. he begins to circle his tongue around your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. butterflies floating in your stomach as he made his way down, sticking his tongue inside your hole, tasting every bit of you. he moans as he feels your slick cover his tongue, "you taste so sweet, angel." you tug on his hair and he takes it as a request to go deeper and he does. he fucks you with his tongue, lifting his hand to press the rough pad of his thumb on your clit. his eyes are closed, savoring every moment. he pulls away slowly, teasing his finger into your dripping hole before slipping it in, and you tense up. immediately enclosing him with your warm gummy walls, art starts to feel pain inside his swimming trunks. he moves his hips slightly, hoping the water will create a friction to relieve the ache.

he attaches himself to your clit once more, sucking on it this time while he curls his fingers inside you at the same time. your stomach tightens as you feel your climax approaching, making you tug on his hair harder. "f–fuck, how are you so good at this" you gasp, bucking your hips. he chuckles, you feel the vibration against your core. "art– shit, i'm so close, baby" he groans at the pet name, his other hand gripping your thigh harder.

"you like that, huh?" your voice breathless, "you like it when i call you baby?" he nods feverishly, lapping up your juices, his own hips bucking softly underwater. you wrap your legs around his back, "i'm gonna cum, artie– fuck, baby just like that. doing so good f'me" within seconds, you're shaking violently into his mouth. feeling warm fluid ooze out of you, which he immediately takes into his mouth. you struggle to hold yourself up, leaning back on your arms as you catch your breath.

if only you could see the string of white floating out of his trunks under the water.

[sugurizz]

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ── So this was an interesting ask cause it was a big, hard CHALLENGE. Just like Jaekyung's D- *Ahem* Aaanyways Jae and fluff are scientifically opposite terms. So trying to merge the two together feels more difficult than buiding a rocket. But I did it, and tried to keep HIM in character as much as I can, cause let's be honest…he has his tiny fluffy moments too...sometimes, yeah. heh. Anyways enjoy some RARE Jaekyung 'fluff' folkss.

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐒𝐊.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Just...fluff, Ig?

You stared at a gloomy, greyish sky through the huge bay window. The spacious emptiness of your roommate's apartment hit heavier in his absence. The raindrops trickled down, gradually getting thicker and louder under the thunderblasts of an imminent storm.

You did a few casual chores around the house, train of thoughts constantly derailing towards him…

− He took you in for a rather transactional reason, and you didn't particularly hate it either. You were in times of rut, torn between multiple jobs and restless days. And he needed someone who had it in them to take him, regardless of his temper and turmoil.

He had a professional to help maintain his fighter career by all means, and you had a luxurious roof over your head. And thus was your secret pact with the charming athlete.−

A louder bang shook you out your thoughts again. The storm running fiercer and wilder added to your unease. And the recurring, almost detonation-sounding noises strained your already worried heart.

You liked the rain, it even soothed you at times. But the violent thunderstorms often made you troubled, almost terrified. it brought fear and unrest in you.. some emotions and memories that you didn't like being brought back to the surface. The tall walls of the apartment resounded with louder rumbles. You cried out as you ran away, an inner instinct in you seeking a hideout narrow enough to shelter you…

____

'What are you in the damn closet for? Thought you were away.' He stared at you; curled up and shaky, holding your knees close to you chest as your hands wrapped over your ears.

You flinched at him sliding the closet door open. The chaotic noises outside had you barely notice him coming home, let alone walking on you in your hideout.

You raised your head and opened you mouth, struggling not to burst in tears. watery eyes and choked hiccups trapped in your throat, you took a deep sigh and tried explaining.

'I…got scared. I hate storms and w-was all by myself…I needed to hide somewhere.' You stuttered, face heating up with embarassment.

The timing was anything but convenient, especially with him fresh out the shower, cheeks pinkish and hair still a bit damp and messy with a towel over his shoulders.

'The heck? You a kid or something?' He huffed with a mean smirk, eyeing you down like some stray kitten on his lawn.

'Ugh. Just get out of there. I'm here anyways, the boogeyman won't eat you this time.'

He crossed his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The storm outside was still pretty audible to your ears, and so were the lightning flashing every now and then.

'I-I said I'm afraid…I'll just get out when I settle down.' You uttered, holding your legs closer to you again.

He didn't take what you said for an answer. Neither was he the type to reason with someone. Rather pulling your arm and caging you between him and the closet door sounded like the easiest way he had in mind.

'Still scared now?' He stared dead into your eyes and raised an eyebrow. You locked eyes on his, mortified, no words ready to leave your mouth.

'You're a grown woman, doc. Ya can't be sobbing because of a damn thunderstrom.'

Your head leaned forward, resting on his chest. The pent-up fear made him almost seem like a safe haven to you, and so did his overly tempting closeness against your body.

The tight muscles on his broad chest felt so warm, despite you only touching him for a couple seconds. It had your silly self almost wishing he would actually hold you tight…or even nuzzle you into his neck...

'Oi doc, let go now would ya?' He huffed with an eyeroll, turning his gaze away.

'Y-yeah…sorry.' You flinched away and shook your head, hoping he wouldn't notice the few warm tears you left on his shirt.

'Quite the scaredy cat you are.' He gave you a faint grin as you wiped your cheek.

'I'm hungry. Don't feel like cooking.' He turned around and walked out, hinting at you as he led the way towards the kitchen...

[athleticperfection1]

Northern Arizona Volleyball

[alienpossession]

"Now this is what I'm talking about," murmured the alien under its breath using its human puppet's voice

As the field commander of its race's mission on Earth, it's very important for Flicker (its code name) to look representative of its authority. At first, the body Flicker stumbled barely lived up to its high standard as a 4-time new planet expedition lead. But, noting the fact that it has limited time to be exposed directly to Earth's atmospheric condition, Flicker made the decision to lunged directly at the curious human who watched it fell from the night sky and looking quite amused when he first seen Flicker in its "portable" form

The 8 inches insectoid quickly latched itself to the human's temple and from there, it expanded its form and covered the entirety of the human's face in just under a minute. Then, it dissipated quickly as it ensured that the human wrapped by it already paralyzed as more of its extended form entered into the human through the ear, nose and mouth. Soon, as it resides on the brain, it covered the brain in its black, sludge like form before directly spread across the human body. Flicker's expansive capability caused the human's skull to crack as the nerd's lanky form quickly ballooned with muscles, or what seemed from the naked eyes as muscle

Working on the base mass, Flicker managed to expand the nerd's form around 30-40%, shooting up the nerd's weight from 125 lbs to close to 175 lbs and increased its height from 5'6" right at 6' tall. Flicker tapped into its human's vessel memory to proportionately distributed the muscle mass based on the nerd's memory of the stronger human it encountered before. The word "frat", "gym", and "jock" repeatedly flashed alongside the bigger guys this vessel witnessed, so Flicker modeled the nerd's body accordingly. His chest puffed up from rib-cagey and flat-looking into sizable pillowy pecs coupled with visible six-pack abs, while its back popped like the set of swimmers the nerd happily supported just a couple weeks ago or the gymgoers he envied as his body simply gained additional masses out of the blue.

But Flicker was not done, he's big, but simply not big enough just yet. In order to grow even bigger, it required another source of masses, so using the nerd's memory and calculating its chances for a more discreet arrival, it controlled the nerd to walk to the campus gym that's going to close in half an hour

Jeff Wrabel realized that everyone already left the gym so he did some final round of cleanup before heading back to his dorm. As a sophomore student athlete on partial scholarship, working in the gym is his way to be in better favor with the administration and also for him to get additional working out time. It's not like the small-town wrestler would directly be on the mat from the get go during his freshman year and with the incredibly packed roster, he probably would be still on the reserve until his junior year. Minding his own business and wearing the headphone given by his rich girlfriend, his back faced the entrance and he didn't realize that the nerd entered the gym. The noise cancelling feature caused him to be pretty much deaf to the external noises and before he even realized, he's thudded to the floor after the grown nerd lunged at him from the back. The headphone rattled to the ground and as he screamed in pain while trying to check his assailant, he's suddenly paralyzed as the nerd grabbed his head while their legs started to merge.

Jeff left in a catatonic state while the nerd, due to Flicker expansive yet malleable form, started to sank further into Jeff's body. As soon as the two bodies merged, Jeff's body started to expand as Flicker gained additional masses to work on. The wrestler legs solidified into just the right mixture of the tightness achieved from constant running while additionally packed with sizable muscle from twice-a-week leg day. His butt lifted and gained additional curvature as the nerd's lean and mean expanded form merged with Jeff's bubbly ass. The changes spread upwards as their core strengthened followed by upper limbs that simply turned into irresistible sinewy landscape that showcased strength and dedication to improve one's body. Jeff's eyes already rolled to the back of his head while drool escaped his mouth as more and more of Flicker and the nerd merged with his form. Around 10 minutes later, the unholy blend of men and extraterrestrial life form emerged victorious in the middle of the quiet gym flooe. It stood tall at 6'5" and weighed around 220-225 lbs as steam released from his body.

The merged brain now solely filled with the singular consciousness of Flicker while the two human simply existed as memory to be tapped by the alien. Breathing oxygen from the now expansive set of lungs felt very refreshing and normal for Flicker as it grabbed the dropped headphone that belonged to Jeff. He put it on and a rap song started to play right away as he marveled at the sight in the mirror of his shirtless form, the tattered shirts on the ground right next to him due to his expanding form should be picked too and then thrown away while he tried to check whether glasses is still necessary for his vision or not

After skimming through the two human memories, Flicker headed to the locker room to grab the gym bag that once belonged to Jeff. He admired his form one more time as he walked pass a mirror

"Now this is what I'm talking about,"

And he snapped some pictures to document himself. He then focused at the task at hand, he cannot go back to Jeff's dorm, but with around 500 of its field operatives descended like a falling star in the next couple of minutes, all he needed to do is to simply walk out from the gym and let his operatives spot the glow his form radiated to guide his operatives to crash landed on the area it marked. Not like the glow he emitted is visible to the human eyes, only to its kind, and based on Jeff's memory, the male Greek Row seemed like the perfect spot for its operatives to land themselves and started their hunt for their vessel

***

After 2 times rewriting this due to Tumblr weird glitch, I finally write something outside of "Body a Day" prompt for a while. Thanks to the pictures for hitting my head like a wrecking ball of inspiration

[sweetbans29]

Playbook - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You never thought your dad would be your wingman (based on THIS request)

Warnings: vague descriptions to keep this as open as possible

Word Count: 3k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Again, doesn't follow everything to a T but the overall theme is there!

The Hawkeyes were in for a treat when Coach told them they would have a special guest in practice. It was never disclosed who would be the special guest but the team was buzzing with ideas of who it could be in the two weeks leading up to their arrival. They were naming everyone under the sun, from WNBA players to NBA players - even highly regarded coaches. Sky was the limit when it came to who the special guest could be.

This wasn't the first time the coaching staff at Iowa had used their connections to bring in some big-name athlete or coach to rain them for a day or a week. It was something they had started Caitlin's sophomore year and had happened a few times since. It became a season tradition even if her coaches wouldn't say it was. She has been coached by Candace Parker and Lisa Leslie. They even got Steven Kerr of the Golden State Warriors to Iowa for a week during which the guys team joined them for practices. It was a crazy week but one of Caitlin's most memorable (there was something about outshooting some of the guys that Caitlin would never forget).

So when the day rolled around for the appearance, the team knew it was another big name when the guy's team pulled up for the second time in a row. Coach Bluder walked up and greeted their coach as the men's team came over.

"Any ideas of who it is this year?" One of the guys asks Kate and she just shrugs.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Kate responds.

Caitlin has a love-hate relationship with the men's team, and by love-hate it is more of a major indifference towards them. It had all stemmed from her dating the coach's son, who also happened to be on the team at the time. The relationship consumed her whole junior year, only coming to an end when he graduated. It wasn't mutual at the time and it took Caitlin a while to get over it but nevertheless, she did. The guys that are still currently on the team naturally had to choose their former teammates' side but if you were to pull them aside one by one and ask their opinion, each of them would say Cait didn't deserve what had happened. Kate would know because that is exactly what she did.

All of the athletes are told to sit down in the first few rows of the bleachers. Once everyone is seated, the doors open to the gym and none other than last year's NBA MVP walks in. Every single head turns and the murmurs begin. Most of the teams sit there with their jaws dropped.

Caitlin leans over and begins to shake Kate's arm.

The coaches introduce the guest and before they all know it, they are on the floor running drills. Typically there is a divide between the men's team and the women's team but that went out the window when the guest took the liberty to group everyone to his liking.

They are only a half hour in and both teams are dying.

You are at the hotel, reading when you get a call from your dad. It wasn't one you were expecting considering you knew his schedule was packed.

"Hey dad," you say refusing to put your book down.

"Hey baby girl, do you see my playbook anywhere?" He asks.

Your head tears away from your book as you look around the room. You get to the desk where your dad was working last night and see the book sitting on the desk.

"It's right where you left it," you say getting up from the bed and grabbing it. "Do you need me to bring it by?"

"That would be great, I'll send Jeff to swing by and grab you. If you don't mind hanging out, we can go out to dinner when I am done here," he says knowing the only thing on your agenda for the day was reading.

"Sure, sounds good," you say and begin packing your bag. "I'll see you in a few."

You hang up and grab your book alongside your dad's. Jeff is there in no time. He has the front desk call up to your room and you are on your way. Jeff has been your dad's driver for about 10 years now. He was more than a driver in your eyes and would often go out of his way to make sure you were taken care of. Whenever your family would travel, Jeff would join. Neither you nor your dad would have it any other way.

"Jeffery," you say and give him a nod. He says your full name back to you, eliciting a smile.

The school your dad was coaching at was only a 15-minute drive. When you arrive you make your way into the gym and begin the search for your dad. Once you find the court, you walk into a group of sweaty athletes all looking like they just played a full game but you know it was just your dad's footwork clinic.

You make your way up to him as he is watching the next group go through his course. Standing a few feet back, you watch as a group struggles to get every step. Your dad tells them to break and you make your way to him as the athletes grab water.

"Here you are, one playbook," you say and tap his shoulder with it.

"Ahhh, thank you, baby," he says and takes it.

"I am starting to think you leave this on purpose, what is this like the third time you have had me come to a practice?" You say tasing your old man.

He shrugs. "Isn't it better getting out of the hotel room?"

"And into a gym?" You counter.

"Hey, I just want to spend more time with you," he says and you roll your eyes. You know he is missing with you but grab your book and take a seat.

What you didn't know was the amount of eyes that followed you. Since you walked through the door there had been at least 4 sets of eyes that followed your every movement, one of them being Caitlin's.

"If you stare any harder, you'll burn holes through the girl," Kate says.

Caitlin doesn't care. She knew that your dad had a daughter but all the pictures that she had seen were from when you were a kid. She had no idea you had grown up.

"Caitlin," Kate says, waving her hand in front of Caitlin's face. "Earth to Caitlin."

"She's beautiful," Caitlin says as she watches you take a seat and pull out a book.

"Well get in line," Kate says and nods her head over to about 3 other groups of guys all looking your direction. Caitlin feels her heart deflate at the sight and throws herself back into the drills.

The teams are now going through shooting drills and you can't help but look over and watch. Your eyes are drawn to one of your favorite college players.

You don't know why it didn't occur to you that you would see her considering you were at her school. You just didn't put two and two together but glad you glanced up. Your book falls to your lap as your eyes are now glued to the shooting drill. You have been watching Caitlin for the last year now and have been mesmerized by her game..

Practice comes to an end, sooner than you would like to admit, but are thankful considering your stomach decided to become vocal about its emptiness. You walked down to where your dad was on the floor and waited a few feet away but close enough to make your presence known.

"Ya, we will be at your upcoming game this weekend," your dad says and nods over to you. He parts ways with the players and makes his way to you.

"Ready?" He asks and you nod.

The two of you head to dinner. The following few days, your dad continues to head to the team's practices and you hear all about them. You were really looking forward to going to the women's game and even got yourself a jersey to wear.

You head to Hawkeye-Carver with your dad and take your seats court-side. Cameras find your dad immediately and you ignore their presence. The teams head out and are warming up for the last time before starters are announced and the game begins.

You watch intently and cheer for the starters, the jersey you're wearing supporting the starting guard.

As the teams go to greet each other right before tip-off, Kate pulls Caitlin.

"Looks like somebody is a fan," Kate whispers to Caitlin. Caitlin's eyes follow where Kate is looking and sees you sitting courtside. It takes her a second to get a closer look but when she does she notices the number 22 on the front of the jersey you are wearing.

A stupid smile finds its way to Caitlin's face and Kate elbows the girl.

"Don't mess this up," Kate jokes and Caitlin pushes her.

The game tips off and Caitlin is on fire. She is flirting with a triple-double by half-time. It has made for a very fun game to watch. The second half continues the same way as Caitlin gets her triple-double in the third quarter. By the end of the fourth, there was no question that the win was going to the Hawkeyes.

A handful of the team makes their way to talk to your dad while you look for the star of the game. You see her walk over and make your way towards her.

"Hi," you say with a sweet smile, which is returned.

"Hi," Caitlin says, doing everything in her power to not expose her nervousness.

"You played great," you say and you swear you see a little blush creep its way to Caitlin's cheeks. "Would you sign my jersey?"

Caitlin nods and you pass her a Sharpie.

She begins signing the back of the jersey you are wearing when you speak again.

"You have very pretty eyes," you say as you feel her writing on the back of you.

"Ya?" Caitlin asks and begins to feel pretty good about herself.

"Ya, couldn't help but notice them with how much you have been staring at me," you say causing Caitlin to mess up her signature.

Her whole face turns red as you make it known that you have caught her not-so-subtle glances and at the fact that she has now messed up the jersey you are wearing.

Caitlin stutters and doesn't know what to do. The panic in her wants her to flee but that would just add to her embarrassment. Cait doesn't get embarrassed easily but here you are making her feel like a fool.

You turn back around to face her and when she looks into your eyes she begins to feel grounded again.

"I owe you a jersey," she says with a shy smile. You give her a questioning look. Caitlin has two options, come up with some elaborate lie and try to convince you that you moved causing her to mess up or she could tell you the truth. She chose the latter not wanting the foundation of your meeting to build on a lie.

"Your comment about my staring took me off guard and I may have messed up my signature," she says quietly but her eyes don't leave yours. If you thought she had pretty eyes, yours were stunning. She could look into them forever.

You give her a smile and are pleased with the effect you have on the superstar.

"It's now one of a kind," you say turning an embarrassing moment for Caitlin into one that she will never forget. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"I feel bad," Caitlin says. "Let me make it up to you."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" You ask, taking a little step closer to her. It was getting hard to hear with everyone else around you.

"Well, how long are you in town for?" She asks.

"We leave on Sunday," you say, today currently being Friday.

"I can show you around the city tomorrow, how does that sound?" Caitlin asks, hoping you don't already have plans.

"Hmmm, I'll have to think about it," you say in a teasing tone. Caitlin's smile drops a little. You give her shoulder a little nudge. "I'm just messing with your C, I would love to see the city with you."

Her smile returns but falls shortly after when she hears your next remark.

"You'll just have to ask my dad," you say and you can see all the color drain from her face. You know you were just messing with the girl but knew her intentions were pure when Caitlin walked straight up to your dad and started a conversation. You could tell when Cait finally worked up the courage to ask him, he looked over at you, making quick eye contact and you gave him a little nod. He looks at you a little longer, longer than he had with anyone previously. There is a glint in his eye that you haven't seen before and you give him a confused look. He leans over to Caitlin and says something only she can hear, prompting her to respond. They both smile at one another and you release the breath you didn't realize you were holding. Caitlin walks back up to you with a smile you would look at forever.

"I'll pick you up at 10," she says, bringing her arm around you for a hug. She holds you longer than either of you expect but neither of you is complaining. When she finally lets you go, you lean up and give her a little peck on the cheek and head towards your dad.

Weeks passed and the team noticed a shift in their teammate's mood. Kate was the first to notice and noticed it almost immediately when it happened. It took Caitlin a whole 5 minutes after she got back from spending the day with you before telling Kate everything. So it comes as no surprise when the team brings up Caitlin's shift.

"Someone has been chipper these last few weeks," Jada says to Caitlin.

Caitlin tries to hide the shy smile and shrugs.

"Ya, it's almost as if there is something...or someone who has impacted your mood," Kate says, in no way being discrete.

Caitlin stares hard at her best friend.

"Ya CC, you have been on your phone more than usual," Gabby says wiggling her eyebrows.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, I am just looking forward to the week we have off," Caitlin says dismissively and continues on with practice. She liked having you all to herself considering neither of you have officially labeled what you are. The two of you coined it as getting to know each other.

After Caitlin showed you around her college town, you were headed back home with your dad. Ever since you had left, you had been messaging or Facetiming Cait nonstop, not that she would have it any other way.

It got to the point where you invited her to your family's trip to Cancun for spring break which she gladly said yes to. She was only able to go a few days but it was better than nothing.

The two of you spent every second of the trip together as she got to know your family. They all loved her, especially your dad.

The trip comes to an end faster than either of you want it to and before you know it you are back at the airport dropping her off to head back to Iowa.

The second Caitlin lands, her phone is blowing up - more so than usual. She looks through the notifications to see about a hundred or so are from the team's group chat. Opening the messages, she realizes that the cat is out of the bag and they know she was with you and your family on vacation. They all go off on her, in the sweetest way.

Caitlin opened the photo she was tagged in on your story only to realize it was a photo your dad posted. She swipes through them, landing on the group photo that was taken at dinner one night. She can't help but smile at the photo. Caitlin was sitting with you on her lap, her arms wrapped around your waist while you held a plate of food. Little does the world know that the plate of food was hers and you were tasked with feeding her since you didn't want to leave her lap.

Never in a million years would Cait have imagined herself vacationing on the beautiful beaches of Cancun with her favorite NBA player, let alone falling in love with his daughter. But there she was, smiling like a fool while looking at the photos from her time with you and her heart settled. It rested in knowing that you held it. Unlike her past relationships that seemed to always spark anxiety, yours was one that brought her peace.

She opens her messages, bypassing the team chat, and taps on your name. She types out a quick message about landing safe and sends it your way. As she makes her way back to her apartment, she doesn't feel the ache in her chest that she felt when she had to let you go in the airport or when her plane took off knowing she was leaving you behind. She is filled with the peace of her settled heart, knowing that wherever the two of you are - you belong to one another.

AN: Ugh, the thought of a tropical vacation with our favorite girl is mind-consuming right now. Let me know what you think and if I am alone in that thought. And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍

[sxorpiomooon]

What should you dress like based on your rising sign.

hello!! If you guys want to you can also check for your venus sign for a more accurate description and lmk if you guys would want me to make a post with some clothes example!

check out my paid readings as well

Aries-

Athletic wear,edgy bold prints, leather, acubi aesthetic, cargos, lose shorts, formal, bold genderbending style. Y'all just wanna look cool😭

Colours- red, monochromatic.

Taurus -

Feminine clothes, net, maxi dresses, sweatpants, a lot of accessories, satin plain shirts, blazers jumpsuit y'all love smelling and looking rich and classy lmaaao

Colours- sage green, beige

Gemini-

Playful, I literally had a vision of jeans with dress and jersey with skirts, mix and match, two three aesthetics all at once, vibrant colours, Y2K, bratz, quirky accesories, glasses lmao I'm seeing so many tiktok videos in my head rn

Colours- neon, vibrant colours, splash or colours

Cancer-

Soft, coquette, loves pearls and carrying purses or cute wallets, cutely and ethereal at the same time, white colour

Colours- soft feminine colours such as sky blue, lavender etc

Leo-

Wants to stand out, flashy colours, gold jewellery, rings, bold colours, rock grunge might suit you guys

Colours- black, prints.

Virgo-

Formal,old money ralph lauren lmao, skirts, belts, floral skirts, forest fairy core? Cares alot about details and will always want to personalize the look somehow

Colours- green also you guys would look really good with basic jewellery

Libra-

Cute maxi dresses, clothes that have art on them, bunch of charms, alot of colours, ethereal jewellery and clothing, old channel vintage or clueless sort of clothing.

Colours- soft colours like baby blue, baby pink as well as lilac

Scorpio -

Bold cuts and colours and clothes and accessories, less accessories more eye makeup perhaps, bold fashion statements, might, v cut and boots. You guys might also look good while wearing only one colour instead of two three at the same time

Colours- wine red, maroon, velvet clothing

Saggitarius-

Eclectic, upbeat clothes, lose shirts, flamboyant, mix colours and different patterns at once it's like wearing different earrings on both ears.

Colours- yellow, orange

Capricorn -

Formal, elegant, old money, big handbags, old vintage watches I also heard Italy flea market for some reason so lmao

Colours- neutral tones

Aquarius -

Comfy, sweatpants, trousers, oversized, streetwear, patterned clothes might really care about good statement shoes, thrift, flamboyant clothing lmao

Colours- faded jeans and clothing, blue eyeshadow or blue colour in general honestly

Pisces-

Transparent, net, shiny, pastel shiny colours, chunky aesthetic jewellery, pendants, sunglasses, delicate, silver.

Colours- lavender, baby blue etc

Thankyouuu!!

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 11

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 3k Also on AO3

A gentle breeze greets you as you step onto the bar’s terrace, the heavy beat of the music fading into a muffled hum as the glass door swings shut behind you. Despite the warmth, the night air feels crisp and almost refreshing. The few scattered lounge areas are sparsely occupied, quiet conversations blend with the soothing ambiance, and you inhale deeply, feeling a wave of calm wash over you—a welcome contrast to the frenzy inside.  

This is the first after-party you have attended since everything changed. You had not even known there was a party after the race until Charles’ playful complaints about your absence at his podium celebration clued you in. The thought of venturing out at night had seemed daunting then—after all, the paddock had become your safe haven, a place where the routine felt familiar. But missing Carlos’ party was simply out of the question, not if you wanted to avoid the relentless whining that would surely follow. 

Your time in Monaco with Charles, and the nice lunch with Daniel, had shown you just how much of this world you had yet to explore. Especially now, when the doors to a lavish lifestyle which you had yet to grasp, had swung open for you. Despite not seeing a single euro from your ‘work’, being a famous Formula One driver sure had its perks. Tonight was a perfect example: here you were, in one of the most luxurious hotels you had ever encountered, clad in a stunning dress from your pre-arranged luggage, all without spending a cent. 

The building, perched elegantly on the edge of a tranquil river, boasts an expansive terrace adorned with soft lights that gently yield to the brilliance of the starlit sky. A secluded club, nestled on the outskirts of the city, packed with a glittering array of celebrities —actors, singers, athletes, you name it— all immersed in an atmosphere of opulence that is both mesmerizing and intense. 

You take a few steps forward, intending to lean against the railing to fully absorb the serene scenery—the subtle scent of the flowing water, the sense of liberation that the night seems to offer—, when a man seated in solitude catches your eye. 

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you approach him, the rhythmic clack of your heels on the terrace floor accompanying your steps. He is clad in a black sweater with a low neck, a big necklace hanging from his neck “What are you doing out here?” you ask, your voice light “Everyone’s inside.” 

Lewis looks up, surprise flickering across his features. The terrace lights catch in his dark eyes, turning them into an intricate constellation. “Could ask you the same” he replies with a smirk, shifting to the side of the black sofa to make space for you. “I thought you were having fun dancing around with the girls”. 

“Yeah, Alex and George’s girlfriend are nice, but everything is just...” you sink into the cushions, letting out an exasperated sigh as you lean your elbow on the armrest, fidgeting with the straps of your shoes. You take this brief moment to compose yourself, offering a distraction from the truth that feels too overwhelming to voice.  

The strangeness of the night, the unfamiliar country, and the sea of faces —some known, many not— have left you feeling adrift. The idea of being surrounded by so many people, who were supposedly mere byproducts of your imagination, was utterly disorienting. How could something so elaborate and vivid possibly be a mere fantasy? It all felt so... 

You shake your head, chiding yourself. You shouldn’t have gone out tonight —those drinks did not help either. 

With a deep breath, you decide to push those thoughts aside and opt for a lighter excuse “If they play Animals one more time, I’m jumping off the balcony, I swear” 

A soft chuckle escapes the Mercedes driver. “You better stay out here then” He takes a sip of his drink, crossing his legs and shifting his gaze from his glass to the breathtaking scenery, “I thought you liked electronic music” 

“Yeah, I do, but—wait, how do you know that?” you notice halfway into your explanation, frowning at him. It is not like you had much time to play music since you were thrusted into this situation, so where did that come from? 

Lewis shrugs, his eyes crinkling with a grin he barely manages to conceal, a trace of pride in his expression as though he is pleased to have surprised you. 

“Well, yes, I do like it” you give in, tilting your head. Despite the theories crowding your mind, you prefer not to think about that. Just for today. “I guess I’ve just gotten used to Spanish nightclubs. There’s a lot less jumping, that’s for sure” 

Although you were having a hard time back in Spain, you had made a couple friends during your external internship that liked to party until the early hours of the day. They showed you around the city, took you to some of the most beautiful places you had ever seen and were there when you were not in the mood for any of that.

It was nice, being with them, your small home away from home. You missed them, dearly.

“Oh, right. You were in Mallorca with Carlos, weren’t you?” he realizes, a teasing note in his voice that you choose to overlook.

“You know too much,” you reply with a playful smile, raising a pointing finger at him. Even if that is not the real reason, you prefer not to get into specifics. Not tonight “Yeah, Charles and I went to visit him for a couple days. It was nice, did they tell you about it?” 

Lewis shakes his head, adjusting himself more comfortably on the sofa, draping his arm over the backrest. “That bit I picked up from the articles.” 

Those photos had spread across the internet like wildfire. Both Ferrari and Haas’ media team blowing up your phones as soon as you put a foot back into the port.  

Of course. You'd almost managed to forget about the media frenzy the impromptu holiday had caused.

You barely recall how the idea for a trip came up on the flight to Monaco —something about the scorching temperatures in Monaco prompting Carlos to check the weather in Mallorca, and you mentioning you’d never been there. That was all the spanish needed to organize a full weekend getaway to the island for the three of you, all under the guise of inaugurating his new boat.  

You haven't yet worked up the courage to read those articles . Seeing the coverage about your on-track activities is one thing, clad in a costume and playing the part, but having your entire itinerary laid out online feels like an entirely different level of exposure. 

It feels like another sign that this universe is a mere construct of your imagination, there is no way they could find you on a boat in the middle of the sea. Everything feels so artificial —or, perhaps, unnervingly real. 

For a moment, you consider how ready you are to confront the topic that’s been swirling in your mind all day. Gathering your resolve, you ask tentatively, “Did you see the articles about us?” 

A quick search of your names brings up a flood of results: articles and social media posts either critiquing your supposed ambition to climb the fame ladder or fawning about how great you look together. Hundreds of photos and videos have emerged, supposedly capturing moments where you are seen looking ‘longingly’ at each other during interviews or gravitating towards one another during pre-race activities. You won't lie, you enjoy those last ones way too much. 

A brief silence falls over the scene. You lift your gaze to meet his, as if expecting something —an answer, reassurance, you’re not quite sure. 

“I did” Lewis confirms with a nod, his voice nearly lost to the breeze. 

You drop your gaze, your fingers absently tracing the seam of your dress as a pout forms on your lips. “You know, the others were teasing me about it.” 

“Were they?” his voice carries a hint of mock surprise, as if he anticipated this would come up “Who? Leclerc?” 

“No, it was Lando. And well, Daniel and Carlos too” you clarify, recalling how they were basically fuelling each other, although the mention of the Monegasque has your alarms blaring “Wait, why Charles?” 

"Oh, Daniel too?” Lewis highlights the McLaren’s driver name with a chuckle, completely ignoring your question “And Carlos... well, I’m not surprised about that one, after that...  effusive celebration” 

You give his leg a playful slap, pretending to be exasperated by the teasing. You know the journalists are going to have a field day with your hug in front of the podium. You’ve already seen a few of those photos making the rounds on social media. But it really doesn’t matter. The press can speculate about a relationship between you and Carlos, or any little interaction between you and the rest of the drivers, the truth is far less dramatic. 

Following in on his joke you mention the only driver who has been left out, “Not Lando?” 

“Maybe, who knows?” he throws the question out into the universe, his eyes steady on yours. 

Neither the universe nor you offer him an answer, only crossing your arms and letting out an exaggerated sign. Honestly, it is more of an excuse to scan the balcony’s guests, taking in their scattered forms and quiet conversations. 

Sensing the lull in the conversation, Lewis offers you a sip from his drink. You eye the glass, considering whether to indulge in another round. The couple drinks you already had still swirling around in your head, a lingering attempt to calm your social anxiety. With a slight nod, you accept the glass and take a tentative sip. The cold liquid burns its way down your throat, a sensation that makes you scrunch your nose in distaste. You promptly hand the glass back to Lewis, casting him a puzzled glance. 

What’s in there? It’s the embodiment of a poisoned peace offering. The taste lingers unpleasantly, settling heavily in your stomach. 

The British man watches with an amused smirk, barely concealing it as finish what’s left of the drink himself, finally setting the empty glass on the coffee table with a soft clink. He turns back to you, his expression now more composed, and says softly, “If you’re worried about the press, we can always give it a rest for a while. It’s fine by me” 

Although you try to conceal your reaction to the proposed solution, even Lewis is surprised at the way your eyes shot up to his. The idea of purposely avoiding each other during race events seemingly a tough compromise in that moment. Despite your growing familiarity with the chaotic world of Formula 1—two months of navigating this madness have certainly made an impact—Lewis has been a constant source of comfort amid the frenzy, a steady anchor for your sanity. 

“I mean...” you clasp your hands over your lap, nodding along to the plan, although a bit disoriented “Yeah, sure, whatever you think is best” 

Lewis catches your hesitation, reading the unease on your face. His expression softens as he opens his mouth to speak, a thousand unspoken words hanging in the air. But before he can say anything, his attention shifts to something behind you. 

“What are you doing out here?” the familiar question comes before strong arms wrapping around you in a warm hug from behind the sofa. The voice, laced with genuine happiness, whispers into your ear “I’m so happy you’ve come,” making a pleasant shiver run down your spine. 

You lean against Carlos’s shoulder, melting into his embrace as best you can with your arms pinned beneath his. The sweet scent of his cologne and the faint hint of alcohol mix in the chilly air, intensifying the comforting warmth. 

“I was chilling for a bit” you reply as he pulls away. You offer Lando a wave when he appears behind Carlos’ figure. They both sit at the sofa by your right, the older one placing his drink on the glass table, and you let out a tired sigh “I don’t know how you guys do this. I’m exhausted.” 

It is a miracle that you are still awake and attentive at this hour, let alone engaged in conversation. Normally, you’d be out like a light by now. The physical and mental demands of a Grand Prix weekend usually leave you running on fumes, barely making it through airport security as Nick guides you to the next spot on the calendar. And yet, these men —who have actually spent almost two hours driving at breakneck speeds in a state of extreme focus— can seamlessly transition to partying all night, just hours after the race. 

“I’m fine actually” Lewis instantly assures, with a shrug, leaning back into the sofa. His playful tone not fully registering until you hear Lando’s laugh. 

It has not been the best of days for the British driver. Afterall, the nasty collision that sent his car flying at the first corner, forcing him to retire after just two laps. The incident plays on a loop in your mind, the memory of his car flying across the air still vivid. You reach over and squeeze his hand. “That was scary,” you admit, the concern in your voice unmistakable. 

Lewis grimaces, an exasperated sigh rolling out of him. 

“Careful what you say, Lewis,” Lando snickers, glancing between you and Carlos with a mischievous grin. “We’re in an Alonso slander-free zone here.” 

Carlos shoves Lando playfully to the side, and you are quick to interject, your voice a touch louder than needed. “Yes, we sure are!” you assert, refusing to let anyone criticize the Spaniard. Especially when you, with your limited but growing F1 knowledge, are certain the collision wasn’t at all his fault. “And you are one to talk anyway, we’re not in a Lando slum-, what was it? well, whatever-you-said free zone...” 

Alright, your English is beginning to falter. Not a good sign. 

The implications of your jab seem to strike a chord in the younger man, who abruptly incorporates himself in the sofa, curls bouncing over his head with the motion. He clasps his hands together and leans over his knees, ready to argue his case “Oh, really? Let’s talk about it, then” 

You’re equally eager to dive into the debate, fuelled by a mix of liquid courage and post-race indignation, he almost smashed his car into yours mid-race. You have not suffered through a two-hour post-race debrief for nothing “Well, first of-” 

Eyes wide, hands frozen in the air, you hear it—a familiar beat filtering through the club’s glass door. “Oh!” The word slips out as a huge grin spreads across your face. You recognize the opening notes immediately, and your gaze darts to Carlos. “Gasolina, ¡Carlos! ¡Gasolina! ¡No me lo creo!” 

You leap off the sofa, excitement bubbling over as the music pulses from inside the club —though you feel a tad bit lightheaded. Your sudden movement draws the attention of nearly everyone on the balcony. Realizing this, you offer a sheepish smile and a quick wave in apology before lowering your voice. “C’mon, let’s go inside,” you urge Carlos, practically bouncing on your heels. The thought of dancing to the iconic song fills you with a giddy anticipation. 

But the man doesn’t move. Instead, he stares at you with a bemused expression and groans, “I just came out here!” 

Your enthusiasm wavers as you glance between him and the door, a pout forming on your lips. You really want to head inside, to lose yourself in the music for a while, but the idea of going alone feels daunting. You have had enough encounters with strangers claiming to know you for tonight. Maybe Carlos’ presence would act as a deterrence, or at least steal all the attention. Plus, you simply want to enjoy the song in the Ferrari driver’s company. 

The excitement slowly dies when you watch him pull a tired grimace, the strain from the day probably catching up to him once the adrenaline was finally wearing off. 

With a tilt of your head, you ask one final time, “No?” Your voice is softer now, tinged with a hint of defeat as you begin to turn back towards your seat. 

Just before you can sit back down, Carlos reaches out and grabs your hand, prompting you to help him get up from the sofa. He rises with a slow stretch, shaking his head with a resigned chuckle. “I don’t even like dancing” he complains, though his grip is firm and reassuring as he stands beside you. 

You beam up at him, grateful for his company. You gesture to Lando and Lewis, inviting them to join, the mix of alcohol and excitement making your nerves tingle. Yet, although they both seem entertained by your enthusiasm, they decline your offer as quick as you extend it. 

With a shrug, you turn back to the club entrance, Carlos following reluctantly. His light-hearted complaints become background noise as you bob your head to the rhythm of the song. “Por fin ponen una buena y tú... (They finally play a good one and you...)” you tease him, but suddenly feel a tug on your hand. 

You look back at the driver, confused by what made him come to such a sudden halt, and find him greeting someone. Well, not just someone. 

“Charles!” you exclaim, quickly leaning in to hug him, your hand still linked with Carlos’s. 

The man’s face brightens with a warm smile. “How are you? Haven’t seen you all night.” His light eyes sparkle as they meet yours, but there’s a flicker of curiosity as they glance at the linked hands between you and Carlos. 

“I’m fine! We’re going in ‘cause I love the song, want to come with?” you hastily explain, the rhythm of the song already arriving to the chorus fuelling your eagerness and not mixing well with your foggy brain. 

His smile wavers slightly, gaze bounces between you and Carlos as he finally decides that “No, it’s alright. I’m going to cool off for a bit. You guys have fun.”. 

Charles watches you disappear into the flashing lights and thumping music, turning back toward the dimly lit terrace. The night now feeling just a touch colder. 

Author's note: I was missing writing so much, hope you liked it. Thank you all so much for reading, any kind of interaction is greatly appreciated!

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub @darleneslane @therealcap @aespie

[nouearth]

12 Months

peter parker x male reader.

summary: where you couldn't possibly imagine to find love and sanctuary anywhere else, you somehow find it in the presence of a boy named peter.

wc: 4.3k. genre: angst. warnings: loner!reader, sad!reader, implied abuse, implied bullying, high school senior year, slow-burn.

SEPTEMBER.

The big hand of the clock flicked closer to the end of the day, the small hand circling around the circumference to pass time. 

Conversations of peers were usually drowned out with the help of your earbuds. The gentle strum of acoustics would counter the excitement of the students’ well-being; friends opinionated in after-school activities, athletes talked about the upcoming game with your rival school, artists boasted over the amount of commissions they’ve received overnight.

For the first time, you heard it all, and took it all in with an inhale, then silence as you stared at Peter Parker. The earbuds were slotted into your ear canals, but today, the wired nubs were worn to merely dull your surroundings as you awaited the intercom to bid the occupants of the building farewell for the day. Your leg shook, bouncing your book bag atop of it, and you held it steady when you hugged it close to your chest, chin resting at the strap. It appeased the throttle in your chest, but every time the classmate opened his mouth for a laugh, it swelled painfully larger. A pump to the husk of a balloon, a breath to the bubble of blue raspberry bubblegum, a vapor to the particles of billowed smoke, it continued swelling and roped your anxiety along for the journey. A part of you needed to talk to him, but the other part begged for reconsideration. 

At some point, you forgot to breathe. Feeling blue in the cheeks, you finally exhaled the caught nerves. They drew out of you in shivers, spaghetti boiling in bubbling water if the warmth of your breath could change matter. While the man listened, then talked within his small group of friends, chairs and desks were gathered around to form a circle, you examined him cautiously. If Peter was to turn his head and meet the affection in your gaze, you were lucky to have the window by your side to turn back to, feigning interest in the clouds, the sky, the breeze in the trees. Until then, his smile unmasked pearly whites that rivaled the lights that illuminated the classroom. His russet hair was pushed back, wavy locks that were brushed simply so people could easily follow the pattern with one glance. 

“Gooooood Afternoon, Midtown!” The intercom blared, and a warning from your teacher hushed your classmates into a sea of scatters. “Before we send you kiddos off, we would like to remind all of you that the Midtown Tigers will be playing against Weston’s Sea Hawks tonight! Show your support by attending the game and cheering for our team. Let’s show those dirty hawks that tonight will be the night that we can bounce back from our 18th consecutive loss!” It continued with its usual announcements of bus delays and afternoon activities before finally blaring that cathartic bell.

Footsteps crowded the halls, and your classmates joined its symphony in heavy to light strides. While you watched, your pace slowed deliberately as Peter’s friends bid him farewell. You overheard them asking him if he was going to join them in the mall, but he declined, blaming his absence on his aunt. They left one by one, until the only occupants were you, your teacher, and Peter.

“Peter?” You were up on your feet, approaching him from the back of the classroom as you slung the bag over your shoulder. Your voice cracked from the parched of your throat, mousy in performance, and you were unsure if Peter heard you. Your mouth opened again to call to him again, but he turned with a friendly smile, raising his brows in interest, and they closed.

“Oh, hey!” His face lit up when he saw you, or maybe you were convincing yourself. Not even your reflection looked at you the way Peter did. You were even surprised he recognized you. Cared to remember you. He hurriedly threw his books into his backpack before swinging it over his shoulder, meeting you in the middle of the row of desks. “What’s up?”

“I…” You’ve only spoken to him twice. The first was a mere greeting, and the second was a painful answer to his worry. 

Are you okay? Yes.

The beating in your chest hiked in rhythms, compelled gravity to rob your voice, but you were conscious enough to steal it back, softly speaking. “I just want to thank you for… last year. I never got to… properly thank you. So, thank you…” You were intoxicated by the amount of times you said those appreciative words, but gratitude sobered you up, offering the latter a small, grateful smile. 

“Oh…” The smile on Peter’s face simmered into a relieved line. He then nodded towards the door for you to follow him, and you did, silently by his side. “You don’t have to thank me, (M/N). I did what anyone would do.”

Everyone let it happened, except for you.

The hallway was quick to clear as students rushed to spend the remaining hours of their Friday without any regrets. The silence was deafening except for the squeak of your shoes and the whispered gossip between faculty members, and for a place you often labeled as your personal hell, it wasn’t so bad when it was purged of those that spawned that definition in your life.

Maybe you were walking slower, or you were keeping with Peter’s pace, or the hallways had undergone construction to stretch the floors, or the awkward silence between the both of you that blurred your perception, but the travel from your classroom to the exit of the building was a journey.

“Is he still bothering you? I don’t know if he’s in your other classes, but he’s not in mine, so…” Peter spoke up, alluding to the classmate who called you disgusting names, shoved your books to the floor, stole the change of your clothes during gym. And you wished it would stop there, at the actions of the cliché bully trope, but it never did. He pushed the door open, politely letting you out first, and you stepped into the warmth with a small thank you,’ and continued walking with him. Summer cicadas harmonized in their greeting.

“No, not anymore.” You lied, dropping that hand that once held onto the padded straps of your backpack to your side. The dark color of your pants masked the bruise on your wrist when you shoved it deep into your pocket. “I have him in a few of my classes, but luckily he’s preoccupied with his friends.”

“Geez, you got his friends too? That’s… gotta be a loud classroom.” He laughed, and you joined in to delude yourself, and Peter, into thinking everything was okay.  

The sound of multiple engines running within the yellow busses reminded you how incredibly enamored you were with Peter. By now, motors would’ve been buried by earbuds, and the walk wouldn’t have been so deafening to your ear canals. But hearing Peter’s voice soothed the damage, and you wished you had a playlist of him saying your favorite words, reading your favorite novels, rescuing you with worried comfort. You wanted to continue the conversation, change the subject, but you never knew how, so it fell to silence. Again.

“I’ll see you around, Peter.” You spoke softly again, paused when you and Peter reached the end of the sidewalk. You were familiar with Peter’s route. He lived in the opposite side of your street, and the curved path to the right practically led him back to his apartment. All he had to do was follow the beige pavement. “…and thank you, again. It means a lot.” A genuine smile, one that you haven’t been able to sprout for weeks, months you could argue, and Peter’s breath hiked.

“Of course…” It took his breath away. The cloudy day was drawing in the last of its colors, but the rare hint of your teeth, the curve of your lips, made the sky above him, behind you, bloom in the softest blues, yellows, and whites. Selfishly, he wished you smiled more, because the release that was pulled from him evened the astonishment of a child seeing stars for the very first time. 

“I’ll see you around, (M/N).”

OCTOBER.

The workload in your classes had picked up, and with the part-time job at the local bookstore, you were envious of customers who had finished their backlog of novels. Mainly working adults. Still, there was never enough hours in the day to immerse yourself in the world of a brave protagonist, slaying off demons and dragons in the pursuit of love. You never got to finish the fantasy novel you were reading, but you’d imagine it ended with the hero beheading the fire-breathing behemoth, and its head would be pridefully worn on a stick like cotton candy. Cheers erupted when the character returned, then roared when their love blessed them with one thankful kiss.

The ladder was anchored to the wooden, though creaky, floors as you held your breath from inhaling dust. When the door was pushed open by curious passersby, particles of dust sailed with the draft that was invited in, and you coughed into the crook of your arm whenever one floated into your throat. Though, you couldn’t be too annoyed. It also provided a test to see if the Halloween decorations could withstand the wind as they sat on hooks that were nailed into the ceilings. Spirals of orange and black ribbons roped cartoonish gravestones, black cats, pumpkins, skulls, ghouls, all the mascots of the holiday, from above. The draft animated them in gentle swings, delicate arcs that cooled the confined space of the bookstore, but as far as you could tell, none of them had landed on the ground.

“Looks great, (M/N)! I think we’re good on the hanging decorations!” Your manager, Anna, gave the metal ladder a strong pat before tending to the fallen dust. It shook in fear, and you did too, immediately clutching to the fly to stabilize it.

“Any else? We still haven’t decorated the windows.” You climbed down cautiously, making sure she was in your line of sight because for all you could know, she could be an omen.

“The stick on the ones I got suck, so I was thinking that we’ll decorate it on Halloween? Before opening?” She said, opening the door after to sweep out the culprits of your coughing fits. 

“Sounds good.” You collapsed the extension of the ladder once you stepped off, folding it into a thicker shape, and nodded before returning the ladder to its rightful place in the storage room.

“Doing anything fun for Halloween?! Parties?!” Anna’s voice boomed despite the door muffling it. The natural luminous of her voice was something you usually cowered away from, especially when she called for you in front of customers. Luckily, the store was closed, vacant of any witnesses to the flare of your cheeks. Cardboard boxes stacked atop of one another, and for some reason, you were suddenly determined to face your procrastination head-on. “Horror movies?!”

“Uh…” The volume of your voice was still muted despite forcing yourself to make it sonorous. It came out in staggered breaths as you flattened the boxes with your weight, stepping on them at the crease and fold, until you were able to fold them into neat, flat shapes. “Not really! I usually don’t do anything for celebrations.”

“Seriously?” The sound of sweeps came closer to you. They sounded like laughs, almost as if they were mocking you. When you looked up, it was Anna’s fretted expression that reminded you that they were just sounds. No one was here to hurt you. Laugh at you. 

It was just you and Anna. And sounds.

“Mm-hmm.” You simply answered, packing the flattened boxes into a trash bag before storing it back to where the stack previously harbored. The room felt bigger now. You exited after switching off the lights, and took Anna’s broom to sweep up the fuzzy stray materials of cardboard. 

“How come?” Her shoulder supported her leaning stance as she pressed to the wall, watching you diligently work with crossed arms. She gasped out of realization. “Oh no—did something horrible happen on Halloween? Is that why you don’t celebrate?!”

“No, nothing like that!” You laughed. It was always genuine with her. Anna was at least twenty years older than you, but she still kept the youthfulness of a child. You were envious of it. 

“I just…” Big sweeps to walnut flooring kept your mind at ease. The thick hairs brushed evenly, catching lint in the hay. They clung protectively onto the strands the more you brushed, the harder as well. It reminded you of nights, lonesome in your bed. No matter how hard you tried to remove those pesky lints, they always stayed. Always found a way to intrude. “—don’t have parties to go to.”

Nor did you have friends to watch movies with, or a willing family to celebrate with if all plans fell through. It’s been you since you can remember, and you’ve gotten used to it. Though, you’d never admit that to her.

The trail of your voice and the mindless polishing of walnut immediately foiled your discreet speech, but Anna knew better than to prod. From the day you came in for the interview, she remembered the timidness of your slouch, your pattern of speech, your orbs. One could argue that they were nerves, universal tremors one every eighteen year old got when applying for their first job. Then, she trained you. It was just you and her, and the shelves of delicate books. Over the next few weeks, Anna learned that you were as frail as the old spine of donated hardbacks. 

Her knowledge of you only sank surface-deep, barely a scratch or a wound. At one point, she thought it was because of her personality: chipper as a mourning dove, loud as her neighbor’s lawnmower on Sundays, but compared to how she met you five months ago, it delighted her to see progress. Slowly but surely, you opened up to her. She knew your favorite color, your favorite meal, your favorite novel, and she was no longer insecure. There will be a time when she’d meet the root of your soul, and if it took a month, a year, or another, she’d wait.

“Everything okay at school?” She’s been meaning to ask. It was an exciting time for a new business, but incredibly stressful as well. Most never made it after six months, especially within an industry where independent bookstores have become increasingly difficult to sustain with the presence of technology. Anna was just fortunate enough to have seen such quick growth.

Anna took the broom from your hand, stashed it back in the storage room, then guided you to a table for two near the entrance of the store. It was her favorite spot because she loved seeing the wonderment of her customers when they left with the book they couldn’t find anywhere else.

“Yeah,” You quickly answered and offered her a simple smile, devoid of any purpose but to pacify her worries. It worked on your parents, and you liked to think that it worked on Anna as well. “Well, they’re doing some construction in the school gym. I heard that they’re planning to add a room for—“

“That’s great, (M/N), but…” Her arms remained crossed, below her chest, and she nodded to the bruise on your cheek. Purple bloomed high on your cheekbone. Occasionally, it throbbed whenever a draft hit your frail skin. You assumed it was its way to kiss it better, and so you would let it in seek of sating the empty feeling in your stomach. “That. I meant the bruise…”

“Oh—“ Out of instinct, your hand reached up to dab at the purpling skin. Numbed at the first layer, but you pressed deeper, and you hid a jolt with a sudden clear of your throat. “Uh… cat— got me. My mom always said to never play with strays.”

It was a lame excuse and you knew it. Anna did too. Before you could see her face scrunch into a stew of concern, you turned the bruised cheek away and looked to the heights of the sky, out the window, and wished you could fly into the night.

On Halloween, the promotion regarding a sale on donated books, though only paperbacks, if you wore a costume propelled the place to a considerable height. The small size of the store felt even smaller, even more so as Anna’s playlist Halloween music blared in the wall stereo. The sound waves and chatters of excited customers confined you, and you shrunk yourself in corners where it would be coldest. Anna took care of the crowd of patrons, while you assembled the paperbacks in a neatly order within the shelves. 

Anna didn’t expect you to comply in participating in the event of Halloween, so the elation in her face was immediately framed in your mind when she hugged you tight, bruising enough to beckon the former bruise on your cheek to reappear, in your Where’s Waldo outfit. Simple, but you were a simple man.

“Excuse me?” An inquisitive voice tore your focus from arranging the novels in alphabetical order. You were kneeling to fill the lower shelf that was too low for anyone to comfortable browse through, but maintained the position as the crowd seemed to have closed in on you. “Do you know if this book qualifies for the sale, or is it paperback only?”

You looked up through your artificial glasses, and the size of your eyes matched the roundness of your frames when it embarrassingly didn’t take you very long to uncover who was under the layer of green face paint. “Peter?”

“O-oh! (M/N), you work here?” His eyes also widened, but he was sober enough to reach his hand out for you to grab onto. “That’s fitting, I guess. You always went to the library during lunch—I-I mean, not that I watch you or anything. I just— happened to notice…” The heat from your palm jumped onto Peter’s when you held on and pulled yourself to your feet. You weren’t sure what to respond to first, but the closed distance between you and Peter was distracting. A fleeting feeling in your chest, and it still overstays it welcome when you backed a step away. 

Peter’s never been so close to you. He could smell the scent of ocean mist that he likened to previous shopping trips ago. His aunt may would drag him to the nearest retail store and he’d spend every second of the agonizing trip smelling laundry scent boosters while she stocked up on the pantry. He laughed to himself. You seemed like the type to use those.

“Thanks, uh…” You carefully took the hardback in your hand, examining it with several cycles of flips. It was in mint condition. Usually, a poorer state allowed an extra discount. “The sale is only for paperbacks, but…” Your eyes scanned the room. Fewer people now. Anna was still busy entertaining those that came to participate in the costume contest, a sudden endeavor to drive engagement.

“I can make an exception.” There was a swell in Peter’s heart when you gave him a smile, an uncertain small one, but nonetheless, a smile that warmed his insides. He wouldn’t have minded if he had paid full price anyhow, but he also wouldn’t reject the opportunity to save money. 

He followed your steps to the back, away from the engaged crowd, and stilled as you began checking him out. “Just one book?” You looked up, and his lips were already parted as if he was about to say something, but he nodded instead.

Another moment of silence as you took his card after applying the sale to his book, and your fingers drummed to the beat of the music to fill it out, awaiting the receipt to print out. Whenever you had the courage to look at him, he was immersed in the ambiance of the bookstore. Smiling to himself, to Anna, to the laughter of the crowd, and you couldn’t help but hide one yourself, to the ground. When Peter faced you again, you quickly looked away in time, and the receipt rolled out in one smooth motion.

“How are you? Is it always this busy? I’ve never heard of this place.” Peter had a habit of stacking multiple questions with his own observations, with statements, with more questions. Rambles, people would call it. He was attentive, curious, and it all made him the more endearing.

“I’ve been doing okay. Tired, mostly. Miss Wilson’s been keeping me up though.” It was your attempt at a joke, and luckily, it landed when Peter laughed in agreement, elated as if he’d been waiting for the culprit of all-nighters to be of subject.

“Right?!” Peter shook his head when you asked if he wanted a bag, and continued, tucking the book in his armpit when you returned it to him. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love her—she’s awesome. But chill out on the essays! An essay about our essays is a task sent from the devil himself.”

A chuckle escaped from your lips, and a wider smile brimmed your face in support. For the first time, you felt compelled to talk, to engage into conversation.  “Yeah, I missed a few deadlines, but she’s pretty lenient with late work, thankfully.”

“Really? I have a feeling it’s because it’s you! You’re probably her favorite student since you always get the right answers when she calls on you.” He laughed again to escape the awkwardness of his compliment. Subtle, but he hoped you took it pridefully.

Peter looked to the side to see if anyone was coming to conclude their purchase for the night, and was delighted to see the hardwood floor left unattended. “Are you doing anything after this? It’s Halloween, so I imagine people are probably out partying or something.”

“I’m not really a party person.” You nodded to assure yourself, mindlessly rearranging the supplies around the desk to avoid the gaze of his eyes. It sucked you in once, couldn’t look back even if you tried. It was only when Peter turned himself away that you were no longer staring into warm chestnuts. “I only dressed like this since I’d probably look a little out of place if I showed up in my usual uniform, haha.”

“You look cu—“ Peter hurriedly cut himself off, frantic before smiling again. “Nice. You look nice.”

“Thank you,” You returned his smile, soft in form. “What about you? Are you doing anything?”

“Well, I’m not a party person either—oh! There’s this new horror movie that came out a week ago! I’ve been dying to see it,” Peter sparked, gently bouncing on his toes as hope frayed within his words. “If you’re free, would you want to watch it with me?”

“Oh—“ For the first time, you had the option to say ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ and for some reason, Peter was always at the crime of your firsts. “W-what time? I’ll have to see if it’s okay with Anna if—“

“Let me see…” Light reflected off of Peter’s faced as he searched on his phone, but a buoyant smile that revealed his teeth shined brighter. “One showing at eight, another at ten, and one final one at midnight!”

“Is… midnight okay?” You hesitantly asked, and Peter brightened.

“Midnight is perfect.”

When you left from work, you didn’t bother to call for your parents. It would’ve gone to voicemail anyhow. Instead, Anna took the excited initiative to drive you to the theater despite your assurance that walking would’ve sufficed.

Nonsense! I’m getting my coat. Hold on! Stay right there!

The mystery of what held the rest of the night for you frightened you to the core. What if everything went downhill from here? What if Peter never showed up? What if this had been a prank all along? During the car ride, you breathed, and breathed, and breathed.

And then, breathed. 

Inhaled.

Blew in one continuous breath.

Inhaled.

Your chest ran steady again.

That night, Peter made you feel normal. As normal as someone like you could be. 

You didn’t plan on getting your fingers buttery, but Peter assured you that his  popcorn wasn’t going to finish itself. You shared your sour gummies in return. Peter jumped when a ghost flew to the screen, and you did the same from his own erratic movements. You watched the film through half-closed eyes, peeking between the cracks of your greasy fingers, prepared to be startled by the sound of a door closing, and you laughed silently to yourself because it was silly when you flinched to a cat scurrying away.

While you focused, the structure of your nose and lips, your entire side profile, were handsomely illuminated by the flickers of the screen and Peter took in the animation of your presence, a behemoth contrast of the you he’d known silently for years; the you that kept to himself, ate at lunch by himself, did group projects by himself, studied in the library by himself, walked home by himself. It was pathetic, many would heckle to their circle of friends. Peter overheard the tease and taunts, and he wanted to defend you in those moments. But he couldn’t, not until he knew you.

When you felt the air thicken, you turned to Peter and his gaze unfurled the heavy cloud between the two of you until it vanished into smoke. It sucked you in; his eyes. And you stared wide-eyed, bewildered and lost in the sea of broken stars the screen illustrated in Peter’s orbs. They twinkled with every cut of the scene, sparkling under the terror of the performer’s haunting, until they no longer didn’t when he turned away. 

Crimson blanched and wilted into his face, radiated even in the dark when you followed and turned back to the screen. You felt your cheeks rivaling in swatch.

For the first time, you weren’t scared. 

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!