Tumgik
#and the last one was a double win anyways
giannaln4 · 2 days
Text
Lucky Bracelet
Tumblr media
lando norris x fem reader
summary: Making friendship bracelets was one of your favourite things to keep you entertained during race weeks, and you just had to make a special one for your boyfriend.  (1.5k words)
warnings: fluff, established relationship, a couple sexual innuendos
a/n: guys look at me! two posts in one week? crazy. i'm honestly trying to clean up my inbox since i still have a few requests from before my break 😭 so if you sent one, i'm getting there, i promise! now, this is a little bit cheesy and there are a few weird time skips so I apologise for that, but i really hope you like it! pls let me know what you think 🫶🏻
check out the original request here!
↺ back to navigation — send me a request!
Tumblr media
Being constantly surrounded by hundreds of people and the double amount of cameras was not something you liked, but it’s something you had to put up with given the amount of attention your boyfriend got; it was something you have learnt to deal with. Not that you were fully used to it now, but at least it didn’t make you as anxious as it used to when you first started dating.
At least now you found something that helped you get your mind off the intense atmosphere that surrounded you during race weeks: making friendship bracelets. You made a few when you went to see Taylor Swift in concert late last year, and it stuck with you since then.
You travelled with all the materials you needed: colourful beads and cotton threads, tape, scissors — the whole deal. It wasn’t like you made an insane amount of bracelets every time you accompanied Lando to a race, but if you were bored or overwhelmed, you knew you had something to do.
Today was one of those days; Lando was specially busy today, and given your shy and quiet personality, you didn’t know that many people around, so you decided to lock yourself in Lando’s drivers room and get to it, carefully picking the letters and colours you would use.
Lando hated to leave you alone. He was aware of the many things he had to do, but he didn’t expect them to take that long, so as soon as he got a little bit of free time to catch lunch, he went looking for you. 
“Hey,” he greeted one of the mechanics. 
“Hi mate, how is it going?”
“All good, thanks. It’s a bit hot outside but still nice.”
“And yet, you are wearing a hoodie.” He teased him.
Lando let out a laugh, well aware of his reputation. "Well, I still have to keep it in style, don’t I?”
“You do, we know.”
“Anyway, have you seen Y/N?” 
“She must be in your room. I haven’t seen her since the two of you got here this morning.”
He smiled, knowing exactly what you were up to if you hadn’t left the small space all day. “Thanks.”
Lando made his way to his room, carefully knocking on the door before coming in. He didn’t want to scare you and make you drop all your beads, which has happened more times than he would like to admit.
“Come in,” he heard you yell from inside.
He opened the door and gave you the sweetest smile you have ever seen. “Hey, I’m back.”
“Hey, what took you so long?” You dropped everything you were doing to direct your attention at him. 
“Sorry, I didn’t know we would have to be there all morning, but I’m back for lunch.”
“It’s okay, and thank God, I’m starving.” You took a piece of tape to hold your bracelet in place and started to get up.
“What are you making here?” He asked you as he got closer to the small table, analysing what you had on display as the bright-coloured beads caught his eye.
“No, it’s a surprise.” You responded, quickly hiding your unfinished creation with your hands. 
“A surprise you say?” He came behind you to wrap his arms around you, softly kissing your head. 
You melted into his embrace and hummed in response, using one of your bags to hide it instead so you could hug your boyfriend back. “You can’t see it until you win this race.”
“Mhm, I see. What if I don’t win? When do I get to see it?” He questioned, not wanting to jinx his weekend, but he was still curious. 
“The next race you win.” You said this as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 
“Got it. In that case, I’m gonna have to win this race.” He grabbed your hips to turn you around, kissing you on the lips once you were facing him.
You went to eat your lunch together as you normally did, enjoying each other’s company as you talked about anything you could come up with. Before you knew it, he had to go back to his duties, and even though you tried hard to act normal about being left alone so he wouldn’t feel guilty, he still noticed. He knew you better than you knew yourself, anyway.
“You can come with me if you want, that way you don’t have to be alone.”
“No, it’s okay. I know there are millions of people and cameras when you do these things."
He couldn’t help but feel guilty; he knew you were there to support him, so he hated to be apart from you when you did. “I’m sorry, love. I know you don’t feel comfortable when there are a lot of people around. You know you don’t have to be here if you don’t want to, you could always stay home.”
“If you don’t want me to come, just say that,” you joked.
“No, it’s not that,” Lando replied immediately. “I do want you here, I always do, but I hate that you feel like you have to hide.”
“Lan, I’m not hiding. Sure, I do prefer to stay inside, but it’s not because I want to hide from the world. Besides, that’s why I always bring something to entertain myself with. I’ll be fine, I promise,” you reassure him.
“Okay,” he nods, smiling at you. “But if you want to go back to the hotel, that’s okay.”
The rest of the weekend went on a lot quicker, even though he was just as busy. Qualifying and race days were a lot less boring since you got to see the cars from the garage, enjoying the full wag experience. 
As the race went on, you couldn’t help but feel anxious and excited at the same time. Lando started from pole (which made you assure him the night before he would get to see the bracelet after the race), but you still had the need to crack your fingers every once in a while. There were only a few laps left, and he had led the entire race so far, and with the gap becoming bigger, you couldn’t contain your excitement.
Once he finally crossed that finish line with a 21-second margin, everyone in the garage cheered and jumped, celebrating Lando’s achievement. A lot of people gathered outside to see him get off the car and celebrate his third win himself, shouting his name and patting him in the helmet to congratulate him.
When it was time for the podium, you decided to go get the finished bracelet you kept in your purse and held it close to your heart, feeling extremely proud of Lando for the amazing race he just had. You couldn't stop the few tears that left your eyes; it made you so happy to see him accomplish his dreams. 
The whole thing was finally over, and you waited for him right there so you could finally express how proud of him you were. 
“Congrats, baby,” you said, hugging him as if you hadn’t seen him in months. “You did amazing.”
“Thank you.” Lando couldn’t erase the big smile off his face as he hugged you back. 
“That’s a cool trophy you got back there.”
“Yeah, I don’t really care about that.” He said, puling away and looking down at you. 
“You don’t?” You asked confused.
“No, I’m still waiting for my real reward.”
“Oh… we can go back to the hotel-”
“No!” He interrupted you, laughing loudly at the fact that your mind went there. “I mean my bracelet, didn’t you say I would get it if I won this race? Well, I did, and now I’m claiming it.”
You laughed, your cheeks burning a bit from embarrassment. “Right, uh- it’s not that great compared to your trophy.”
“I’m sure it’s better than any trophy I could ever get.”
Man, he really knew how to be the sweetest boyfriend in the entire world. You pulled the bracelet out of your pocket, hiding it in your fist before dropping it in his hands. 
The colours were the first thing that caught his attention. Fluoro green and black beads. He inspected these first, until he got to the little letters that read ‘MY WINNER’. He almost couldn’t contain his tears; he was so endeared by you and how much you supported his passion.
“I love it,” he whispered, lifting you up and kissing you emotionally before putting you back down and sliding the bracelet in his wrist, admiring the way it looked there. “Thank you.”
“See? I told you you would get to see it today.”
“It must be a lucky bracelet, then. I’m never taking it off.”
You giggled at this, loving how Lando reacted to the bracelet you made with much love, but you still thought he was just messing with you. “You must be tired.” You teased him.
“Mhm. Now, about my other reward-”
“Oh my God.” You rolled your eyes as you let out a loud laugh, holding his hand as you made your way to the car.
Tumblr media
594 notes · View notes
yan-randomfandom · 2 days
Note
First of all, I REALLY LOVE YOUR YANDERE WRITING (especially Yandere gravity falls),I would like to make a request (if I don't order from you), could you make a Stanley Yandere headcanon with more details? 🥹, I really love this old scammer
Tumblr media
Stanley Pines x Wealthy!Reader
warnings: slightly disturbing body description at the end?
I finally wrote a long drabble for Stan... Here's a quick one before I get ready for college (I'm already late) Enjoy!! [Words: 1201] supposed to be Mullet Stan, or js younger EDIT: I JUST REALIZED YOU SAID HEADCANONS. UM UHHHHHH I'LL DO THAT TOO
💰
Somehow, Stanley Pines managed to get an extremely rich partner. The highest class of the higher class in the social system.
It only took him two dates. The fact that you agreed to a second date was disturbing, especially considering how disastrous the first one had been. He fully expected you to ditch him just for laughs. You didn't, and actually showed up.
Stan seriously wondered if there was something wrong with you. Were you that desperately lonely? Willing to date a broke, unemployed man? Pick up the first person you find?
Yet you showered him with gifts he has never had before in his entire life. You gave him unlimited food. You gave him money and a house.
Guess his flirting skills were just that good. He liked you too, to some extent, but he suspected it's mostly because you're rich.
But, strangely enough, after your two dates, you never really gave him attention again. You were almost never home.
Very rarely you gave him affection like a significant other is supposed to do.
That was fine with him; he didn’t really expect the relationship to last like any of his others. The whole situation was weird enough as it is. As long as he got a roof over his head, he really shouldn't be one to complain... Just make sure it's not a car roof.
It's honestly all just confusing, at most.
And so, he wholeheartedly enjoyed your money, trying to double it and invest as much as he could. Hey, it's free stuff! Not like it'd backfire or anything! If you ignore fumbling that one lottery win because he got disqualified...
Then, one day, Stanley got sick.
You stayed home that same day.
He felt his body shivering, wrapping himself around his blanket like his life depended on it. Head pounding, body shaking, skin sweating. Everything was so uncomfortable.
"You're really burning up, Stan," you murmured, clicking your tongue as you read his temperature. Higher than the usual fever.
Grabbing a cup of water, you tapped him over his layer of blanket. "Please sit up and drink this. I'll give you medicine."
It was too hard for him to move. You gently pulled the blanket from him. When it reached his nose, he made eye contact with you. His eyes were glazed and half-lidded from exhaustion.
"Why are you here?" he grunted, sitting up eventually. "Thought ya forgot about me."
You stared as he drank his water. "What?"
He wiped his mouth. "Eh, nothin'. Must be busy being rich."
"..." You quietly passed him his medicine.
After he took it, Stan ignored your silence and laid back on the bed. Once again, he buried himself under his comforter.
You frowned. "After our second date, I didn't expect my schedule to be so filled. I thought I'd make it up to you by giving you gifts."
A deep chuckle rumbled from the blanket. "It's alright, toots, I'm more curious on why you bothered anyway."
"Why?" you parroted, blinking. "...Oh, Stan."
Stan felt his comforter get pulled again, turning to see your expression. It was quite unreadable, to his dismay.
He almost stopped breathing when you put a gentle hand on his cheek.
"Believe it or not, I do like you," you rubbed a thumb across his hot skin, "I'm so sorry. We'll have more bonding time when you get better, okay? I dropped everything today to take care of you, and I promise I'll do it again."
Stan's vision blurred. He quickly blinked away the tears, trying to turn away from you.
"I don't deserve that. You do know I was after your money, right?"
You chuckled. "I knew that. Don't we all?"
He pursed his lips. "Wait, seriously? Then why'd you date me?"
"I don't know," you shrugged, pulling your hand away from him. He missed your touch already. "But I don't regret it."
"What do you even see in me? I sure as hell don't know. Unless..." his eyes widened, "You're trying to—"
Your face heated up immensely with furrowed eyebrows, shaking your head. "Of course not! I would never! Please don't ever mention that again??"
He laughed, yet it sounded throaty and scratchy. You smiled anyway at the fact he got to smile.
...
"...Permission to kiss you?" you asked.
...
You cringed internally. Terrible timing to ask that question.
But Stan had different thoughts... He didn't even know if he loved you like that. Your relationship moved too fast, and now you're here, taking care of him while he's sick. Sure, you're both in a relationship, but he knew this was wrong, because it felt wrong.
But... ah, he can't think straight.
"Yes," he breathed, desperately. Almost starved. Needy.
He reveled in the feeling of both your hands resting on his cheeks, only to feel slightly dejected when you kissed his forehead.
Guess even you're aware of your relationship right now. That's nice to know. Still, he liked the sentiment to the point that a smile is threatening to go out. "You're gonna, uh... steal my fever because of this."
A chuckle left your lips. "Then I'll trust you to take care of me next."
Trust.
Stan had never trusted anyone again after the incident, and no one else had any reason to trust him either.
He raised his hands and placed them over yours, which were still on his cheeks. You watched as he brushed his nose against your hand, giving you soft, ghostly kisses with his lips.
You smiled. "During our first date, I knew you were more than what you let on. Sure, you're charming and funny, but then I saw you staring at that family with kids, and I definitely noticed when you helped that old lady with the door."
Stan stared at you.
"And I really appreciated how hard you tried to make me comfortable," your smile widened. "I think that's the main reason that made me go on a second date with you."
He coughed, looking away. "Hey. I seem to be... in need of a warm body beside me. On the bed. Because I'm sick. And in need of emotional support."
"Sure," you chuckled. "Worth the risk."
He snuggled up to you as soon as you laid beside him, wrapping his arms around your waist. It was cold, yet so warm.
You played with his hair, combing your fingers through it.
The longer you stayed with him, his warm body pressed against yours, the more he became addicted to the feeling.
The feeling of having someone by his side. Someone who actually understands him.
His eyes closed, indulging himself with your presence and warmth, trying to press himself further into you.
The fever made him feel as if he would melt into you, his flesh becoming one with yours, and everything in his body merging beneath your skin.
If he didn't love you just a few minutes ago, then he certainly does now.
And he's never letting you go.
BONUS:
"Noooooo. Please come back. I need you," he sobbed, actual tears leaking from his eyes. Your lips twitched; at least now you knew he has intense mood swings when he's sick.
You twisted the towel you had just soaked in water. "This will be quick. It'll seep the fever out of you."
"Nooo."
182 notes · View notes
white-cishet-snail · 2 years
Text
Most bonkers win in a game of mtg tonight
Tumblr media
Won 8 flips in a row for chance encounter
Tumblr media
While cucking every swing my roommate made with a 22 power dragon using impulsive maneuvers
1 note · View note
poppyseed799 · 2 years
Text
I cannot be the only one who thought of life series yttd au, right? I’ve never even played or watched someone else play yttd, I just know about it from my sister. But from what I do know, it would fit with the life series SO WELL. I’m definitely drawing Jimmy as Sou before anyone loses Limited Life I can’t waste this chance
6 notes · View notes
soullessjack · 1 year
Text
every day I remember that this fandom simply does not care about autistic people and, much like every other fucking thing I experience as an autistic person, the concept of it being a collective found family becomes increasingly alien to me. love this place.
#we really just can’t win I fucking hate it here#like this is my special interest. this is my community. I’ve met so many people through it that ended up becoming lifelong friends#I’ve been here for almost ten years and it’s meant everything to me for ten years. it’s kept me going through so much shit.#it’s more than just a show and more than just a fandom and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever been apart of#and like I didn’t realize I was autistic until like late 2021. I didn’t even realize SPN was my special interest until then either#I didn’t realize JACK was my special interest. but knowing that he is autistic means so much to me#and its meant so much to other autistic ppl in the fandom. somebody at MomentoCon even mentioned it to Alex last weekend for fucks sake .#it’s real and it’s special and it’s important to us but#but no we can’t have that. make him a fucking baby. toss every interesting thing about his character into a fucking volcano#and relegate him to being a fucking prop for everybody else.#I don’t know how else to tell you this but you are literally infantilizing an autistic person. you are being ableist. intentionally or not.#and the way you all seem to just. idk. double down on your own ableism? or excuse it?#or literally ignore autistic ppl who try to point out how ableist and weird your behavior towards an autistic character is?#it’s a lot of things. it’s so many terrible things and terrible feelings. but above all it’s disheartening.#it hurts to know that even in this space where everyone is family and everyone belongs. I’m still on the outside looking in.#I’m still not /really/ a part of everything else. it’s a horrible feeling and I don’t wish anyone to ever go through with it#but maybe you fucking should. maybe then you’d realize what you’re doing. or maybe you won’t. maybe I’m screaming into the void again.#which I literally always am w this topic anyways. nothing but screaming into a vast empty void that’s supposed to be my big special family#but whatever I guess.#spn#supernatural#spn fandom#spn family#spn famdom#jack kline#autistic jack kline#tfw2.0#destiel#sam and dean#castiel
4 notes · View notes
infizero · 1 year
Text
oh im gonna throw up all over myself HOW DO I ALWAYS FORGET EVERY TIME THAT FRIDAY = LIMITED LIFE
#AND ITS THE FINALEEEEEE FUCKKKKKK (EXPLODES)#i cant fucking take it. im not ready. FUCKKKKKK im not ready#OK OK BEFORE IT HAPPENS#SCAR WOULD BE AWESOME BUT HES GOT SO LITTLE TIME HES PROLLY NOT GONNA WIN :(#UMMMM ROOTING FOR EITHER MARTYN OR BIG B EITHER WOULD BE SICK#(any of them would be sick obvs but yknow)#if the winner is a previous winner that'll certainly be interesting bcuz. well that'll be the first time that's happened#if you count double life as just being pearl's win and not a joint win with scott#even tho i havent been watching martyn's pov i kinda rllyyyy want him to win hes had super interesting stuff going on with his loyalty to#scott and everything.... he'd be sick as a winner#i love big b dearly but. i dont know. i like when the winners were like rlly present and memorable that season#and this season big b and pearl both kind of hung back and just kind of watched from the shadows the whole time#which is awesome and that could be made interesting in the context of one of them being the winner too#but yah idk martyn feels a lot more compelling this season ig? again it'd be cool either way but i think it'd be cool if he won#anyways IM GONNA LOSE MY MIND TOMORROW ^_^#whatever happens. i can rest assured it will bring me more peace than watching the end of double life last summer#dawg watching grian die to the warden and just sitting there watching his little credits i was like numb ToT I WAS WANTING HIM AND SCAR TO#MAKE UP SOOOOOO BAD SO WHEN IT JUST ENDED WITH NONEEEEE OF THEIR ISSUES BEING RESOLVED I WAS JUST LIKE. WELL#guess i'll go walk into the ocean now#no matter what happens i am confident i will feel more fulfilled since i am more conscious of. all of this#dont go in expecting things to have a nice little conclusion LOL. sometimes that happens but a lot of times it does not#serena.txt
1 note · View note
strangersteddierthings · 11 months
Text
Childhood friends AU Idea
Steve and Eddie are best friends who make plans to learn the elvish alphabet from The Hobbit so that they can pass notes without worrying about other people reading them.
The end of the school year (Eddie in 6th, Steve in 5th) brings a sadness to the two. Eddie's going to middle school and Steve's not yet, but they can hang out on weekends, and they have all summer so no worries. (Also, it gives Steve a little more time to learn elvish, since it'll be a whole year until they're in the same school again.)
Except yes worries because two weeks into summer, Eddie vanishes. When Steve bikes to his house to investigate, the whole house is empty. Packed up and gone. Steve goes to Wayne for answer and all he gets is a smile that doesn't really reassure and words of "his dad got a job opportunity, had to move on short notice. But don't worry, kiddo. I'll get you the number to their new place so you can call."
He learns elvish anyway. It's harder without Eddie to help but he's determined. Eddie might return, or maybe he'll get an address one day. Send a letter to Eddie in full Elvish.
Tumblr media
Steve never gets a number or address. Summer ends and sixth grade comes. He doesn't want to forget all the elvish he's learned, just in case. So, he decides to keep a journal. He can write all about everything that's happening and when he sees Eddie, he can give it to him. It's a double win. Eddie will know everything he's missed out on AND it'll help Steve practice elvish.
Sixth grade ends. Eddie doesn't return. Steve did make friends with Carol Perkins though, so he's not as lonely. He hopes Eddie made a new friend, too. But not a new best friend. That's Steve's position, always.
Seventh grade brings Tommy Hagan, but still no Eddie. It brings a growth spurt and sports. Steve likes the easy camaraderie that comes with sports teams. It's like having a lot of friends, which Steve will only admit to needing in his journal. Needing many little connections of friendship to hold together the big hole Eddie left behind.
Tumblr media
The summer between seventh and eighth grade brings him a Bruce Springsteen concert. He'd never thought of a boy kissing another boy until he'd witnessed it on stage but he thinks about it a lot after. The end of that summer brings an awaken he refuses to shy away from even if he has to hide it
Eighth grade brings popularity. Steve's good looking, rich, and liked among his peers. It brings the first (and last) time his dad says he's proud of him.
(Steve will spend the rest of his high school career chasing his father's approval.)
Tumblr media
Freshman year brings Eddie back, but he's different. His hair is longer and his clothes are darker and he's distant. Defiant and angry. Steve would recognize him anywhere, dressed in anyway.
Eddie doesn't want his friendship anymore. Avoids him in the halls and cafeteria, but Steve is nothing if not persistent. He writes a full letter in elvish to slip into Eddie's locker, but Eddie catches him. Shoves the letter back, unopened, unread, with a harsh whispered, "Don't you get it Harrington? I don't want to be your friend. Fuck off."
Steve doesn't understand why. Not until the table top rants start. Conformity and jocks and brain-dead rich kids who get by on favoritism.
It hurts. Steve feels his heart break the day he finally gets the not-so-subtle messages drilled into his mind. Eddie hates sports, and rich people, and stupid people. Eddie hates all the things that Steve is.
Eddie hates him.
Tumblr media
Sophomore year brings Steve a lot of things. It brings the acknowledgment that he was probably in love with Eddie, the way his heart twists the day he sees Eddie flirting with a girl in the hallway, the way he wants the lights out when hooking up with someone so he can imagine a different person pressed against him, the way he gravitates towards brunettes with brown eyes and the flickering hope it might make Eddie jealous. (The way he'd said the wrong name when Brent went down on him, too absorbed in the fantasy of someone else to get it right. Brent hadn't been offended by it, he'd been thinking of someone else, too. Steve finds solidarity for a little bit, until the school year ends and Brent leaves Hawkins.)
Junior year turns Steve's life upside down (pun intended) with monster's coming out of walls. There's probably a lot more he should write about but his journal's pretty empty this year. Too traumatized to document. (Too afraid of what Eddie would say because Steve still writes in his journal like he plans on sending it to Eddie one day. Better to write nothing than sound crazy.)
And halfway through his senior year (don't think about how he's in it with Eddie, about the 4 classes they share, about how Eddie still won't meet his eye) he wants to fade into the background. Nancy and he break up. She's with Jonathan and he hears the whispers of how pathetic he is to be eating lunch with his ex and the guy that 'stole' her. Steve knows that's a lie, Nancy made her choice, and no one can say otherwise, but it hurts to hear. He can't be bothered to try and make new friends. How would he explain the nightmares? The skittishness. The fear of the dark, of pumpkin patches, of his own damn pool now that he's had time to process last year?
Then, the next year brings him Robin. Well. First it brings him an embarrassing uniform and then Russian torture (don't think about it. Don't think about how he'll shorthand the stock list by writing it in Elvish sometimes. Don't think about how the Russian's almost believe they just work for Scoops until they find the stock list in his pocket. Don't think about how they don't believe that the strange script they can't identify isn't proof he's a spy), but in the end he gets Robin. A Platonic Soulmate who understands the hidden side of him. She asked if he was ever in love, and he thinks of the Eddie he used to know, longs to know again, and describes her instead. She rejects him in the softest way possible and then confesses about Tammy, and he confesses about Eddie in turn.
Tumblr media
1986 brings Eddie back into his life in the worst way possible. With a bottle to his neck and them both acting like they've never spoken before. It brings twisting guts as Steve lies awake thinking about Eddie alone in a boathouse instead of sharing a bed with him like they used to in elementary school. It brings Steve leading them to Skull Rock (popularized as a make out spot but started as a set of boys' favorite place to play pirates during the summer). Dustin and Eddie make references Steve pretends to not know, despite his own copies of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings and the numerous amounts of notebooks turned journals with elvish scrawled throughout.
There's a trek through the Upside Down. In another universe, Steve imagines he and Eddie talk. In this one, Robin sticks to his side like an extension of him (which she is), and glares at Eddie every time he looks in Steve's direction. Robin knows everything, knows it all, because there are no secrets between them.
They make plans to stop Vecna, once and for all, and Robin confesses she has a fear. That it won't turn out okay this time, but they have to try anyway. Steve clinks his bottle against hers and looks across the field to Eddie and Dustin. The stakes feel so much higher this time.
"I'm going to talk to Eddie if we survive. Make it right," he says.
"No. He's going to make it right because you didn't do anything wrong," Robin says, which is more support than he thought he'd get given the grudge she holds in his favor.
Tumblr media
Eddie said make him pay and Steve does. Nancy advances, shotgun shot after shot and Steve's bounding down the stairs. Vecna beats him to the ground floor but not by much.
A hatchet's not the best tool to remove a head with but he manages. When he looks up, Nancy and Robin are looking down, both approving.
They find Dustin sobbing over Eddie and- and-
Steve's certain he's broken several of Eddie's ribs but he's breathing again, Nancy finds his pulse beneath all the blood, and Robin's retrieved the cut sheets to make bandages out of. Nothing is clean in this world, infection could kill him later, he might not save Eddie like he wants, but fucking Christ, at least if death claims him, it'll be on the right side of the world in a hospital.
Tumblr media
Dustin, Robin, and Steve are at Eddie's side when Nancy leads Wayne into the room. They knew she went out looking for him (Steve was going to but Nancy had shoved him back in the chair with a look that left no room for argument) but even so they're startled by him.
Wayne has always been stoic and reserved, so it's no surprise to Steve when he just lets out a low whistle and says, "of all the people I might see here, you weren't one of 'em."
Steve swallows thickly and says, "well. I am. Here, I mean."
And Wayne gives him a watery smile and crosses the room. Pulls Steve into a hug that Steve thinks he probably wants to give to Eddie instead, but Eddie's not awake and standing and Steve is. But then Wayne says, "I told Eddie he couldn' chase ya away. That if he just talked to ya, you'd understand. He tried so hard to make ya hate him, and for what? For ya to be at his bedside anyway."
And Steve sobs. Loud and ugly and suddenly Dustin's there, and so are Robin and Nancy, and it's probably the most awkward hug for all the others but it's the best hug Steve's had in years. He doesn't even care that he's crying because how can he? Wayne's all but confirmed that Eddie doesn't hate him, maybe never hated him. That Eddie has an explanation, a reason for it all, and all he wants is Eddie to wake up and tell him.
Tumblr media
Steve finally gets his apology two days after Eddie's release. It's the first time they've been alone together since- well, since elementary school. Wayne drove him here then lied about needing to check on something and said he'd be back in an hour or so before abandoned them to the awkward silence in Steve's living room.
"I'm sorry, Steve!" Eddie blurts out loudly, then looks startled by his own yelling.
"I know. I forgive you."
"You shouldn't."
"I know. Still do anyway. Would like to know what happened, though."
And Eddie tells him. How his father's debts came calling and they ran. How his mom got sick real fast, and his father's crime spree and prison sentence following her passing. How Eddie discovered the same thing about himself that Steve did but didn't have the same acceptance of himself. Hated that another thing marked him as Other. Freak.
He tells Steve how he couldn't let Steve back in because he was afraid of losing him again if he ever learned.
"I didn't think you'd be okay being friends with a faggot," Eddie spits the word out, dirty and mean and directed at himself.
Steve makes a decision then. "Follow me." And he helps Eddie up the stairs and into his room. Eddie sits on the bed and watches as Steve digs out notebook after notebook after notebook, until they're a tower on his bed. Then he topples them over in his search for the first.
Eddie takes the offered notebook with confusion on his face, looking from the cover, where 1978 is written on it. The summer Eddie vanished from Steve's life.
"Open it."
Eddie does and gasps. "Steve. Is this-"
"Every single one of these notebooks was written to you. For you. About you. I read The Hobbit for you. The Lord of the Rings. I learned elvish for you. I think I've been a little bit in love with you since the day we met on the playground on my second day of first grade."
"Steve," it comes out breathless and awed.
"Eddie," Steve repeats back to him, just as breathless as Eddie tosses the notebook aside and reaches for Steve instead. Hauls him in to kiss him senseless amongst the proof of Steve's devotion.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
miguelhugger2099 · 7 months
Note
Hello sweetie, hoping you're doing well! What about bully punk Miguel and nerd pastel girl reader at college? (Miguel with 23 and reader with 21) Like reader was ugly and will have a glow up thanks to MJ and now Miguel tries to have her attention, they have a date and sweet and fluff smut!! (reader is virgin uwu) I'll let to you the creativity
Impurities
Tumblr media
hello sweetheart you absolute DARLING i genuinely could be better but i hope ur doing great. i want to apologize for taking so long but i want u to know when i saw this i just about melted bc punk miguel is one of my guilty pleasures i adore him so much. this ask made me want to evolve it into a series i had like several different ways to make this but ahhhh i hope it's alright
Punk!Miguel x Pastel!Reader, Fluff and Smut, Word Count: 8,875 Art by: beawoodward on artstation !
Tumblr media
You knew you weren’t the most appealing girl out there. You weren’t about to delude yourself otherwise. You knew what people said about you, how they looked at you. Your face could’ve been worse. Maybe some bushy eyebrows? You dressed…maybe a little different than most people. While the world was covered in grays and black, you opted out by showering yourself in the cutest pastel colors. You didn’t keep up with the trends and instead followed whatever you thought looked alright. It often led to some mismatching and awkward outfits but you didn’t think so! You entered campus with a light blue and pink striped pants with a pink belt and a baby blue sweater. Two low braids tied with white ribbons at the end and your white framed glasses on the bridge of your nose. Skincare was confusing to you so all you really did was wash your face with a harsh cleanser and hoped for the best which gave you some acne instead–making you pop them and leave some scars. You tried makeup but it just looked cakey so you settled with a messy and often uneven eyeliner. Regardless of your outfit, whether in a skirt or in pants, you were always decked out in some bright pastel colors and hair done in the same two braids. You held yourself close while walking around the halls, already used to people staring and calling you names from high school. College was a little more merciful, the whispers being just as loud but at least they’d never bully you to your face. You win some, you lose some. Your self-esteem had been damaged to the point of no return anyway, so any attempts of trying to prove you’re worth something would just be a pipe dream in your eyes. That’s why you push your glasses up and cling to your shoulder bag tightly in your fist as you pass by the usual group of boys to get to the front seat of your class. Your human biology class door was opened at the back so you’d have to pass the back seats to sit at the front. As usual, the group of boys were basically monochrome except for the little specks of red or blue if they ever decided to add color. But what was most noticeable about them was the so-called leader of said group. Unofficial–official– leader Miguel O’Hara, the senior who decided to take general education classes in his last year before graduating. His usual confident and toothy grin was on display, silver spider bites that his, also pierced, tongue would often play with. His big and heavy platform boots would rest on the chair beside him while his left elbow rested on the table, his hand combing through his long brown hair–shaved at the sides, mind you. He made sure to push his fringe back so everyone could see his double eyebrow and nostril piercing. Miguel’s hands were decorated with rings, big and small and his nails were short and painted black with some of it chipping off. His usual leather jacket with pins and patches, stretched and tight from his muscular build, was accompanied by a low red tank top with a spider symbol on the front. Black skinny jeans and a spiked belt that did little to actually keep his pants in place since the black and red band of his boxers were showing.
He listened mindlessly to his group of friends as they talked with each other, his fingers switching between playing with the dangling earring on his earlobe to his industrial bar. His crimson eyes glanced up when he saw you in your uncomfortably bright and awkward fashion sense. His friend tapped his shoulder and jutted his chin out to you before whispering something in Miguel’s ear that made him shove him away with a smile. Then they both laughed as quietly as possible, chuckling at what you decided to wear today: light blue overall shorts and a pastel yellow undershirt with white knee high stockings and white sneakers, your usual white ribbons at the end of your braids.
You usually sat alone at the front, placing your earbuds in to listen to music while you waited for the professor. Despite being at the front, you could still hear some faint chuckling and words being whispered from Miguel's group.
Still, you held your head up, taking out your notebook and expensive textbook. Clicking your pen, you began some light note taking before class started.
Tumblr media
You sighed as you entered back in your dorm, dumping your bag at the door and kicking off your shoes. You faceplated down onto your bed while your roommate MJ looked over at you sympathetically.
You turn your head, cheek squished against the mattress. “I know that beauty is subjective and I'm not supposed to earn validation from anybody else but…” You sit up and rest on your legs, hands wringing in your hands with furrowed eyebrows.
“But…I want to feel pretty.” You admit softly, ashamed since you felt like you were betraying yourself.
MJ's smile grows and she eagerly jumps from her bed to kneel at your bedside. She takes your hands in hers and squeezes them reassuringly.
“You are pretty,” She insists. “But if you really want help, I can.” MJ tilts your head to look at her, a soft smile on her face.
You nod. “I do. I just want to know how to look like you.”
MJ shakes her head. “No. No, you already have your own beauty.” She places a hand on her chest. “I meant that I can help enhance it. No change to your core is necessary.” She pokes at your chest playfully and you both giggle together.
“You sure?”
“Positive.” 
You take a moment to look at her. MJ really was perfect–shiny straight red hair, clear skin that was painted with freckles and a winning white smile. You hoped she could work some magic on you.
“Okay.”
Your transformation didn't happen overnight. It took at least a few weeks for it all to come together.
MJ had dragged you to salons to get your hair properly taken care of. Gotten your eyebrows plucked, eyelashes lifted, an effective skincare routine–that you struggled to drill into your regular schedule–and a new wardrobe that still held your pastel look, just a little more flattering. She even helped you get some contact lenses so you wouldn’t need your glasses all the time! To tie it all together, you two spent nights practicing how to do your makeup that wouldn't look so wobbly and uneven. Each day, you improved yourself. Your tacky overalls changed into fitted jeans or flowy skirts. Your baggy shirts were now cute tops that hugged each curve. Tennis shoes into heels or cute sneakers and your hair came to life with a beautiful shine; your white ribbon still in your hair.
One day, you entered class like normal. Except there were very few whispers this time, almost nonexistent. Still, you don’t let it get to you and continue like normal–walking to the front of the class and sitting in your usual spot. What wasn’t normal was a figure coming up beside you and pulling out the chair next to you. Miguel slipped beside you in front of the class, tilting his head as he stared at your side profile. You tried not to react but you subconsciously glanced at him from the corner of your eye.
“Hey.” He smirked, his eyebrow raising and his lips curling.
“Hello.” You murmured back, opening your notebook to the next blank page.
“New look?” He asked, using his hand to brush your hair back off your shoulder and you stiffened. He noticed you still had the white ribbon at the back of your head. Miguel’s eyes glanced back down at your body. Nicely fitted flare baby blue jeans, a cute pastel green heart belt with a crop top white sweater.
“Looks good.” He purred. You held your blue bunny pen in your hand tightly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You didn’t understand why he was speaking to you. He hadn’t before–other than laugh at you–so what gives?
“Thanks.” You say curtly. Miguel places a hand over her heart in feign hurt.
“Don’t be like that, nena. You look so cute, I didn’t expect you to be so cold.” He teased. He crossed his arms and rested his head on them to look up at you while you wrote the rest of your notes down before class started. Miguel watched as your false eyelashes fluttered, making your eyes look bigger. The subtle blush on your cheeks and the concealer that hid most of your past acne. He could still see some of the scars which makes him huff a small laugh at how cute it kinda looks. Your lips were more plump than he remembered–a soft pink to them. He lifts his arm up to rest his cheek on his fist, his eyes still on you. “How about I take you out?” Your pen slips and leaves a slash right down your notes. “What?” “A date. Does that sound good?” You don’t look up, instead focusing on your task at hand. “No. Can you please just leave me alone?” Miguel doesn’t say anything else but you hear the chair he sat on scrape across the floor as he gets up abruptly. You hear the laughter of his friends behind you and Miguel snapping at them. Your shoulders hunch over–the natural instinct to hide from embarrassment overcoming you again.
Tumblr media
Every week, in the same class, Miguel would try again and again and again to ask you out. Each time, you would decline. It had gotten bad enough where he changed his seat to move beside you, offering his help when he saw you were confused and overall just trying to get on your good side. You wanted to be strong, truly you did, but it was becoming too much. When Miguel had asked again, you sighed loudly and faced him. “If I say yes will you leave me alone?” Miguel broke into a wide smile. Once you finally agreed to a date with him, you truly weren’t expecting anything good. So you stood by the place Miguel wanted you to meet him at: a local diner that was pleasantly pretty looking from the outside. Still, due to your past experiences of being ghosted and stood up, you watched the time on your phone. You decided that you wouldn’t wait more than fifteen minutes max.
To your surprise, you didn’t have to wait at all. You heard Miguel call your name from your left, his lips curled into a confident smile. Subconsciously, you eyed him up and down. He had baggy black cargo pants, accompanied with chains on his right side. A DIY-ed t-shirt that was sprayed painted over many many times. Of course, his iconic leather jacket was littered with various pins and patches. When he was close enough, you saw just a bit of eyeliner surrounding his eyes; and a new septum piercing. For the people passing by, it was quite a sight to see. Compared to Miguel’s dark but proud aura, you emanated a more sweet and bright vibe. MJ had helped you pick out an outfit, excited that you approached her with the dilemma of going on a date. You wore a sheer baby blue crop top cardigan with a simple white tank top underneath. A slightly darker blue pleated skirt with white thigh high stockings and ankle strap baby blue platform pumps. You held a small purse in your hands and looked up at him through your  lashes. Your hair was pinned in a half up and half down hairstyle; your white ribbon at the back of your head. You thought it was a bit much, but MJ assured you that it was just enough. “Te ves muy hermosa.” Miguel speaks up, a grin on his lips. “All for me?” He teases with a tilt of his head. A piece of his fringe falling over his forehead. “Oh, please.” You look off to the side, ignoring the flutter in your chest when called beautiful. Miguel doesn’t take it to heart, instead going past you to open the door of the diner. He dramatically takes a bow, his arm ushering you inside. The theatrics make the corner of your lips quirk up and you enter inside, nodding to Miguel. You turn your head around to see the inside, wooden chairs and tables, a jukebox at the back with a shiny bar. “This way.” You stiffen when you feel Miguel’s breath by your ear. Before you could turn, he places his hand on your lower back and leads you to a booth by the window. He sits across from you, menus at the ready on the table. “You know, I used to come to this place all the time.” Miguel says, his eyes scanning the different options. “Used to be a hangout spot for me and the others in high school. College took up my time so it’s a pain in the ass not being able to visit more.” You glance up at him, shuffling in your seat. It felt a little weird to have him speak to you like this, as if he wasn’t teasing you a few months ago.
Luckily, a waitress comes up before you two with a notepad in hand. “Oh! A pretty girl! Didn’t know you were back in the dating scene.” She cackles to herself and pushes her glasses up. Miguel groans and rolls his eyes. “I thought you didn’t work Fridays, Lyla.” “Margo couldn’t make it, I needed extra hours–and now a bonus– I get to embarrass you. Everybody wins! Except you maybe. Waddaya want?” Lyla rests on one foot, her grin plastered on her face. Miguel’s smile was long gone, now snapping his order at his friend. You watched with an amused smile. They bantered like siblings. But what she said piqued your interest. He hadn’t gone around dating? You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Miguel call your name. His eyes were uncharacteristically soft. “Do you need another minute?” He asks. You stumble over your words and feel your cheeks burn. “No-no, uhm…” You look down at your menu and pick the first thing you see. “The, uh, chicken fajitas, please?” Lyla meets you with a smile and collects your menu. “Of course, darling.” She turns to take Miguel’s menu. “Couldn’t you have taken her to a nicer place? She’s all dolled up.” Lyla sticks her tongue out at him and walks away while Miguel’s cheeks burn red. Instead of facing you, he looks down at his hands and he picks at his black nail polish.
For once, Miguel had stayed silent. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he looked a little ashamed? Embarrassed? You could see him moving his spider bites nervously as he stares at anything besides you, his cheeks still tinged red. You pat your skirt awkwardly and clear your throat. “The…I like the diner. It’s got one of those retro vibes to it. It’s cool.” You give a small encouraging smile. For some strange reason, you thought his quietness didn’t suit him. Miguel’s eyes dart to yours and then at the window. “You think?” His hand reaches up to play with his dangling earring. It was almost cute. Just a bit. You chuckle softly. “Yeah, I mean. It’s like being in one of those time machines.” Miguel smiles. “Time machines? I think a time machine would look cooler than this dump.” You playfully smack his hand across the table. “Didn’t you say you used to come here years ago? Don’t call it a dump.” You fold your arms on your chest. You didn’t know this, but Miguel in that moment felt the tension he didn’t realize he had fell off his shoulders. “Eh, it’s a little bit of a dump.” He leans back and stretches his arm on the backseat. “But it’s like you said: a little retro.” Lyla returns with two glasses of water. “One for the cutie,” she places one on your side, giving you a wink. “And then Miguel.” She unenthusiastically hands Miguel the cup.
Miguel frowns at Lyla, a familiar bubble of jealousy brewing in his chest. “Lyla.” He warns. “What?” She stretches out the word. “Just being a good hostess.” She huffs with a pout and walks away. You giggle to yourself and Miguel notices. He’s quick to speak. “Ignore her. She’s always trying to be annoying.” He didn’t like the way Lyla was buttering you up, even if it was just a joke. He wanted you to smile at him like that. “It’s funny. I never thought I’d see you looking so bothered. How do you know her?” You smile and take a sip from your water. Miguel scratches the back of his head. “Middle school. We were in the robotics club.” You blink. “Robotics club? Really?” “Why’re you so surprised? What? A guy like me can’t be into things like that?” He smirks, placing his arms on the table and his pins rattle as he moves. “Well…kind of?” You smile weakly and laugh when Miguel pretends to be hit. “No, but seriously, robotics isn’t what I expected from you.” “Well, it was middle school. I’ve grown up into a man. This time I’ve taken an interest in being a geneticist.” He rests his head on his hand. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, nena.” He teases but you pause. That phrase is a little ironic for him to say, you thought to yourself. Shaking off that feeling, you continued to chat with Miguel. Talking about your interests, past, future and current studies. All while Miguel would try to sneak little touches, whether it be his boot tapping your heel or his hand brushing against yours when handing you a bottle of ketchup. After spending enough time at the diner, the sun was beginning to set. Before you left, Lyla convinced you to convince Miguel to give her a big tip and told you she hopes to see you again in different circumstances. Miguel holds the door open for you again and the bell dings your departure from the diner. His fingertips gently brush against yours, catching your attention.
“There’s…there’s this other place I wanna show you.” He bites his lip, peeling off the skin. His index finger loosely wraps around your pinky. “Sure…” You say hesitantly. He notices your hesitance. “It’s nearby. Just for a little bit and I’ll take you home.” The wind breezes through, giving you a glimpse of the cool air that will befall once nighttime arrives. You shiver and tuck into yourself to hide from the wind. Miguel takes off his jacket and slips it around you. Feeling the heavy material on your shoulders, you look up at him and feel the warmth go around your torso. Miguel’s eyes are focused on making sure it’s snug as it can be. It’s so large that it ends around your midthigh. He takes your little purse and pops the collar of his jacket up. “Put your arms through the sleeves so it doesn’t fall.” You blink and do as he says with a flustered expression. While shuffling your arms through the holes, you try not to glance over at him. His t-shirt was cut at the sleeves that showed off his toned arms. Despite the cold approaching, he seemed to be relaxed as he watched you, making sure you stayed warm. “Good?” He asked. Your fingers barely poked out, his jacket covering most of your outfit. And it was warm. It smelled like him.
With a satisfied smile, he slyly takes your hand in his and leads you away. You try not to focus too hard on the way his hand engulfs yours. After following Miguel in twists and turns, you eventually walk up a hill and at the very top stood a single bench with a view of the entirety of Nueva York. Your eyes widened and you let go of his hand to approach near the ledge, placing your hands on the railing. The lights of the city illuminated the night sky and acted as stars. You saw them twinkle along with hover cars that zoomed past you. “This is…” “Where I planned to take you another day. But Lyla pissed me off and I wanted to prove that I could take you somewhere nice.” He comes behind you and slings an arm around your waist. You look up at him with an amused smile. “Did you really take that to heart?” Miguel pouts his lips, his eyes looking off to the side. “I couldn’t let her make me look stupid in front of you.” You laugh, using the sleeves of his jacket to cover your smile. Miguel sees and he has a faint smile of his own on his face. He leads you back to the bench where you two sit in quiet comfortable silence after an afternoon of learning about one another. As you look over at the city with him, you couldn’t help but notice the nagging feeling in your chest. This was a date. A date that only happened because you changed yourself. A date with the person who laughed at you.
“Hey, Miguel?” You speak up quietly. He hums and looks over at you. “I…I don’t want you to be nice to me just because I got a little…prettier.” Miguel looks down at you with a frown. He stuffs his hands in his pockets while he looks back at the skyline. He says your name softly to grab your attention. “I’m not being nice just because you’re pretty.” You scrunch your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah, I’m sure all those times you laughed at me was just you being a charmer.” “Laugh at you?” He raises his eyebrows and you look away. “Nena, I wasn’t laughing at you.” “Don’t lie to me, Miguel. I’m used to it. No use in sparing my feelings.” You sigh. “But I wasn’t,” He insists. He wants to reach for your hand, to touch you but he stops himself. “Really, I was…admiring you.” You roll your eyes. “Now you’re really being a jerk. There was nothing to admire when I looked…stupid and ugly.” “You did not.” He turned you to face him by turning your chin softly. “So you’re saying the way I looked before wasn’t stupid?” You glare at him but Miguel can’t find it in him to take it badly. “You were cute. The way you dressed and looked, it was awkward–sure–but it was adorable.” He chuckles but your frown deepens, feeling the tears bubble up in your eyes as you turn away from him. Miguel calls your name again. “I’m the last person to judge anyone for how they dress. Look at me.” Miguel flicks his multiple ear piercings, pulls on his snake bites, stretches his tattered and ruined t-shirt and slams his dirty platform boots to the ground. “A freak. You were just a cuter version.” “Then why did you talk to me now?” You murmur.
“Because you suddenly changed. I wanted to know what was up.” “And…the sudden date?” “Your transformation gave me the courage to speak to you. It was my chance–an excuse to talk to you.” Miguel says softly. “Though you did reject me twelve times. I was starting to lose hope.” “It was not twelve times.” “It felt like twelve times.” “...You have to admit that I’m…much more appealing now than I was before.” Miguel sighs. “Nena, the only thing different about you is clear skin and some clothes. Everything else is still you. You were pretty underneath, you just enhanced it. At your core, you’re still you. Bright and colorful.” He bumps your shoulder. You smile shyly and look in your lap. “MJ said something similar.” “MJ?” “My roommate. She helped me with, y’know, everything.” It was still hard to believe. Over two decades of being told otherwise was not going to go away by a single conversation but it still warmed your heart to hear something positive about you for once. You don’t say anything else and Miguel takes his chance to wrap his arm around you, bringing you to his chest. With flushed cheeks, you look out into the open where the skyline is feeling at peace and just a little pretty.
Tumblr media
You two had arrived at your dorm and you faced Miguel shyly. Your eyes looked at the ground as you felt your cheeks heat up. “This is my place.” You state and Miguel chuckles, the sound of it sending your heart pumping. “I see that.” He says, taking a step toward you which makes you take a step back. “I had fun.” You whisper softly, your eyes landing on his chest. You see Miguel’s hand lift up to your chin and make you look into his eyes. Your cheeks burn since he keeps his hand on your chin to make sure you wouldn’t look away. “Me too.” He murmured, his red eyes looking like they turned a darker shade when he glanced at your lips. He takes another step towards you and you take another step back. You feel your head hit the door and realize you’re now trapped between it and him.
You hold your breath and can only feel the pounding of your heart in your chest and Miguel’s calloused fingers holding you still. Miguel then uses his other hand to hold your hip, his thumb trying to slide under your tank top. Your hands raise up to hold onto his biceps, shivering when your skin meets his. He was warm. “I…kind of don’t want this to end.” You admit softly. Miguel’s grin grows wider, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek which makes you weak in the knees. “Then it doesn’t have to, muñequita.” His hand leaves your chin to cup your cheek. He glances up above your head. “Your roommate home?” He asks. Your eyes never leave his face, your pupils dilating and a weird feeling starting to brew in your stomach. “No,” You squeak out and he looks back down at you. “She’s–She’s, um, out with her boyfriend.” Miguel hums, another glance to your lips. “Then…will you invite me inside?” He asks, leaning down so his lips just barely graze yours. Not quite a kiss yet. Your breath hitches and you nod a few times before speaking. “Mhm, okay.” You reach your hand behind you to grab the doorknob and twist it open. You stumble backwards but Miguel quickly wraps his arm that was on your hip around your waist. He then makes you walk backwards while he could shut the door behind him. You had your arms around his neck and looked up with wide eyes and a fast paced heartbeat. Miguel huffs out a chuckle. “You okay?” “Mhm!” You squeak. He squints down at you in playful suspicion but brushes it off. He bends down to where his lips brush yours again and finally dips low enough to kiss you. Your first shared kiss. You stumble with how to kiss, especially when the other person has piercings, but with someone like Miguel, you quickly learn and get the hang of it. Soft kissing noises sound between the small space of you two and he gradually moves from your lips to your cheek and down your neck. His arms around your waist tug you closer, bending you back and he moves you further back to where your calves hit the mattress of your bed. One hand rises up to pull his leather jacket off your shoulder, gently nibbling across your skin before reverting back to your throat. With his lips on your neck, Miguel could feel your pulse going wild, heartbeat going crazy each second. He decides to check in. “You okay?” he murmurs with a smile, his lips finding yours again for quick kisses. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve just–” kiss “Just–” kiss “Y’know, never–” kiss, kiss “Done this before.” He pauses, stiffening before he pulls back. “Wait. Are you saying this would be your first time…having sex?” Your heart sinks. That was bad wasn’t it? “No, it’s not bad.” Miguel shakes his head. You didn’t realize you voiced your concerns. “I’m just surprised, is all. Usually people have done it already.” You look away from him, visibly uncomfortable that he’s lowkey making fun of you. Miguel realizes the damage and quickly tries to fix it. “But there’s nothing wrong with it, nena! I didn’t mean–” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. He looks around your dorm room. Your side is filled with cute things like plushies and fluffy blankets–a strawberry duvet all in the same hue of pastels.
“Look. We don’t have to do anything. I don’t…want to make it seem like I’m only here for that.” He shrugs his leather jacket back on your shoulder. “Because I do like you, nena. I’m willing to wait or if you never want it then it’s whatever. I just would really like a second date at least. Maybe at a nicer place like what Lyla said. Maybe I could clean myself up.” He gives you a weary smile. You stare at his hands that hold onto the zipper part of his leather jacket. For a while, you don’t say anything. “What if I don’t want to wait.” You mumble. You look up with some determination on your face. “I…I want to. With you.” Miguel takes his hands off you. “Wh–Are…are you sure?” You slip his jacket off you and let it fall to the side, stripping off the first piece of clothing from yourself. Your mouth is tight, heart hammering in your chest and cheeks feeling that familiar prick of heat up your neck but you’re sure of yourself. You want this. Miguel rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand before him. “Alright.” He breathes out, undeniably attracted to you at this moment. “But this will all be at your pace, okay? I’ll make you feel good.” He purrs resting his hands at your hips and your facade crumbles slowly and you get shy again. He sits you down on your bed and he kneels before you, his hands on your thighs. He takes your right foot in his hands and carefully unbuckles the ankle strap of your pumps and slides it off. You cover your mouth, heart pounding at the intimate yet innocent act of him taking off your heels. He does the same with your other heel and sets it to the side.
Miguel then looks up at you from his lashes, his confident ones meeting your bashful ones. Taking your right leg again, he slips your thigh high stocking off you and does the same for your other leg. He places his hands on your knees and slowly spreads your legs apart to give you time to stop him. You don’t. “Come closer, mami.” He murmurs, sliding his hands up to grip the flesh of your thighs. You let out a weak mewl and scoot closer to the edge of your bed. Miguel bunches your skirt up, groaning and feeling his cock twitch in his pants when his eyes land on your pastel pink panties, a sweet little bow in the middle like you were a present for him. “Tan bella,” He murmurs, unable to hide the utter desire he has for you. You cover your face in embarrassment as he spreads your legs wider. His lips graze over your thighs, pressing kisses as he makes his way up. You feel your heart skip a beat everytime you feel his warm breath. Your hands clutch your strawberry sheets and he notices.
“You can hold onto me, mami.” He purrs and you swallow the lump in your throat.
“Wha…how do I..?” You feel stupid, your hands raising up and unsure of where exactly to put them. Miguel takes your hands and places him in his hair. His fingers curl around yours so you could grip onto his strands.
Feeling your face burn, the sight of you holding onto him while his eyes bore into yours. You instinctively clench your fists, his hair being tugged on in the process which makes him groan and close in his eyes. He likes a bit of pain, it seems
Miguel's hands return to your thighs, wrapping his arms underneath to tug you closer to his awaiting mouth and to keep your legs apart. “Hips up, mama.” He purrs and you do as he says, making him slip your panties off.
He discards them off to the side and delves between your thighs. His nose nudges your nub and you gasp, pursing your lips and gripping tighter on his hair.
“Miguel!” You whimper and he hums in response. You feel the metal ball of his tongue piercing curl inside you–it was strangely pleasurable. You didn’t expect it to feel so good. You rest on one hand behind you, the other still planted in his hair as you bucked forward on his tongue. Miguel the munch that he is, grins against your folds and licks a long stripe up before spitting and devouring your sweet nectar again. You felt the sudden slimy wetness hit your nerves and you yelped in surprise. Just as quick, you fall into submission when his skilled tongue swirled in little number eights. Your eyes were closed shut, your hand pulling Miguel closer to which he obliged. He then surprises you by sticking one of his thick fingers inside you. “Oh my…god.” You moan, your body growing hot and sweaty underneath all your clothing. “Miguel…” Miguel’s mouth moves in rhythm, his lips kissing your pussy as he drinks whatever your sweet cunt offers him. He could stay like this forever, cleaning your mess up and licking you for all eternity. His rings nudge your folds, the metal a stark contrast from his rough fingers. He pumps a second finger inside and it’s a bit of a stretch that feels good enough for you to thrust harder. “Mmm, yes…oh, I’m so close…” You mumble to yourself, chest heaving as you come closer and closer to climax. Unexpectedly, Miguel pulls away from between your legs. The pleasure being ripped from you and you struggle to lift your head as he pulls off you. The look in his eyes is different. More lustful, more hungry.
“If you’re gonna cum, I want you cumming around my cock.” He groans and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Miguel stands up and gets into bed with you, shoving his platform shoes and pants off. While he gets on top, you rest back into your bed and your eyes become big and wide–darting between his face and between his legs. “Is it–will it hurt?” You bring your hands to your chest, clutching the fabric of your tank top. Miguel lifts your chin up to him. His eyes are kind and soft. “It’s not supposed to. I’ll make sure it won’t.” He grabs the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your legs, throwing it with the other forgotten clothes. His hands make his way up your body, helping you remove the sheer cardigan and sliding your tank top up and over your head. Miguel chuckles at the heart patterned bra you wore. He leans over to kiss your neck and you sigh. The feeling of his lips sucking and tongue licking you was surprisingly pleasurable. Instinctively, your reach around his shoulders to hold onto him, your back arching to be chest to chest with him. Miguel’s hands go under your back, holding you up while he quickly unclasps the bra. Feeling the loss of your support, you whine but Miguel kisses you before you become louder. He places you back down on your back and finally removes the last piece of clothing. Miguel admires you from above, his hands at your waist, rubbing up and down your sides as he feels your curves. “Perfecta. Eres mucha mujer.” He whispers while trailing his lips along your collarbone. You whimper, feeling your cheeks burn and grow hot to the touch. His breath ghosts over your breasts and he stares up at you maintaining eye contact. Miguel notices something in your hair; your white ribbon, still tied in your messy hair. His heart swells and smiles, reaching up to brush your hair away.
He kisses down the valley of your breasts and around your nipple. He glances up at you every so often to make sure you’re not feeling any sort of discomfort. He can feel your heart pounding underneath his palm. Miguel wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks softly. You gasp and hold your breath for a moment while his cold tongue piercing swirled around your nipple, his spider bites and nose piercing pressed against the softness of your tits. You stare up at the ceiling as the warmth in your body flooded down to your core. “Oh! M..Miguel…” You whined, your hands curling in his hair where you felt most comfortable. Miguel flicks his finger around your other nipple, pulling and bullying it until it becomes erect and perky. Even then, he twists it and gropes your tit in time with his sucking and biting. Your hips buck up, feeling your pussy throbbing uncomfortably. When you hit his bulge, Miguel moaned and grinded himself to your soaked pussy in soft circles. Your juices left a stain on his boxers in your desperate attempts at relief. He lets go of your tits–leaving a small bite mark– and continues to kiss down your body. “Gracias a Dios por mandarme esta belleza.” He murmurs, digging his hands into the plush of your hips when he raises your thighs up. Suddenly, he stops and lets go of you. “Shit, shit, fuck–hold on.” He mumbles and gets off you. You feel cold and watch as he gets off the bed and picks up his pants from the floor and searches through his pockets. “Did I…do something?” You ask, worried you might’ve done something that made Miguel regret touching you. He shakes his head. “No, no–just–ah, there it is…” He chuckles to himself after finding his wallet and pulling out a small square packet. He pushes his fringe back with one hand as he gets back into bed. Miguel shuffles down his boxers after putting the packet between his teeth. “I’ll get you pregnant some other time.” “What?” “What?” You close your mouth and hear ringing in your ears. You were sure that steam would be coming out of your head at this point–your mind felt like mush with how easily flustered he made you. Miguel looks down at you and huffs a small laugh, letting you know he was joking. Maybe. Hopefully.
His cock springs free once his boxers are off and he groans when it slaps his stomach, leaving a bead of his precum on his tip. Your eyes shamelessly stare at him. You were by no means an expert when it came to sex but you grew both worried and aroused at how massive he was. “There is…no way it’s gonna fit.” Miguel rips the plastic with his teeth and rolls the condom on his dick to the base. For a moment, you’re disappointed that he added protection. Just for a moment, though. He breathes out and gives soft strokes to his shaft while looking at you from beneath him. He feels his cock pulse and throb, growing harder by the second just by the sight of your perfectly sculpted naked body. He thought you were divine. Placing his hands on either side of your head, he leans down to kiss you as if trying to ease your worries. “It’ll fit, I promise. It’ll feel so good, too.” He whispers, his lips brushing against yours. “I’ll go slow.” He takes one hand to lift your thigh up just enough to give him space to rub his cock between your wet folds. “Miguel…!” You gasp while you feel just how hard he was. He shushes you. “I know, nena. Look what you do to me. Feel what you did to me.” He buries himself in your neck, nipping at your skin and you tilt your head back. More of your arousal soaks his cock, creating wet sounds while you grind on each other and Miguel shudders. He bites into your shoulder and fights against his instinct to shove his cock inside and fuck you into your own mattress. Miguel kisses the spot he bit, his breathing labored and heavy. “Tell me if it hurts, mama, okay?” You nod, your eyes screwed shut. “Uh-huh…” Slowly, Miguel looks down and makes sure his tip splits your folds apart as he enters inside you. Your breath hitches and you tighten your arms around his neck. “Miguel!” You whine while he penetrates you. He kisses your temple and stops when only his tip is inside you.
“You’re doing great, nena. No te preocupes, lo estás haciendo bien.” He reassures you with a shaky voice. It’s clear he’s holding back. You whimper apologies and Miguel kisses across your cheeks to try and return your focus on him instead of the new stretch you’re feeling. He praises you in a mix of Spanish and English–ones you can barely hear. He moves his hand down between your legs and gently rubs your clit with your thumb in hopes of loosening you up. With the added stimulation, you moan and hide in his neck with your eyes shut. You weakly thrust up, feeling a bit of relief and allowing Miguel to push further in. “Good, good,” He purrs. “Just like that, mama. Just let me in.” He groans and hisses when you clench around him. Miguel’s thumb switches between a fast and slow pace, sliding in his cock easily until you cry out and dig your nails into his skin, leaving small crescent shapes. “Stop, stop–” You whimper. “I’ll pull out–It’s okay–” “No!” You keep him close to you. “No, I just–I need a minute.” You sniffle, your body slowly adjusting around his girth. Miguel nods and pulls back enough to meet your eyes. “Okay. Okay, whatever you need. At your pace, remember?” He rests his forehead against yours. You open your eyes to see his cheeks flushed, a bit of sweat running down his temple and he shakes with every breath. Despite his current state of desire, he’s putting you first–he’s putting your comfort first. “Thank you.” You whine softly. Miguel huffs, leaning down to kiss the corner of your eyes. “Don’t thank me for that, nena. Never.” Miguel continues to pamper you with kisses, murmuring about how beautiful you are, how well you’re taking him, how he can’t get enough of you. He nuzzles into your neck, rolling lazily over your clit and does gentle thrusts of whatever you were able to handle. After a few moments, you grab his attention by running your hands through his hair, fingernails scratching over his shaved parts. “Okay…more, please.” He lifts himself up and holds your hips with both his hands. His thumbs caress your hip bones as he pushes himself deeper. You moan and tilt your head back, biting your lip as the combination of pain and pleasure hits your stomach and through every nerve in your body. It felt like forever until he reached the hilt, the light smack of his balls hitting your pussy. Miguel smiles. “Good girl,” he licks his lips. “Mirame.” Your head tilts back down to see both of you finally connected. “Holy shit…” You whisper, the sight making you clench. Miguel moans and grips your hips tighter, his head falling forward as he takes a deep breath. “Fuck, don’t tighten around me like that.” “Sorry!” You squeak and he chuckles. He raises his head back up, hair falling in front of his face and a lazy smile on his face that shows his fangs–his piercings glinting in the dim moonlight. “Don’t be. It’s just, you feel so fucking good–you’ll make me cum.”
You cover your face and resist the urge to scream. The heat emanating from your face made you sweaty. Miguel takes your wrists and pins them to the side of your head. He cocks a pierced eyebrow up with a smirk. It softens when he sees just how flushed your expression is. “‘m gonna move, okay?” You gulp and give him the green light. Miguel looks down and slowly pulls out, watching your slick drench his condom covered cock. “Jesus…” He groans under his breath. He looks back up to see if there’s any sign of discomfort on your end but he’s met with your eyes glued between your legs as well. Your eyebrows are scrunched up in pleasure, mouth agape with shallow breaths while you watch him slowly ease out of you. Miguel’s eyes darken with lust and he pushes back in once his tip was kissing your heat. He watches as you roll your head back, your eyes rolling behind your skull when you felt his cock filling you up again. “Oh my God…” You moan. “Miguel…” Miguel’s heart jumps and his hands tighten around your wrists. Still, he’s careful. For a few minutes, Miguel continues his slow thrusting. He pulls out sweet moans and whimpers from you, getting you used to his massive size and stretching your cunt out to the shape of him. His tip nudges against your cervix and you jump which makes him grin. After those few minutes, you began writhing underneath him. The pain had subsided and now this soft stroking was sweet but it wasn’t doing anything for you anymore. Your hands clenched and unclenched into fists.
“Miguel, Mig–more,” You begged. “Faster.” “You sure?” He slows to a stop and you furrow your eyebrows in annoyance which he doesn’t notice. He’s about to ask again after your lack of response when you lock your ankles around his waist, shoving him back inside you. You and Miguel moan in unison, Miguel nearly falling on top of you if he didn’t catch himself by resting on his elbows by your head. His breath fanned your face and he looked down into your eyes with a heavy blush. “More.” You moan and Miguel quickly goes to work. He leans on one elbow and places his other hand down to your hip to start picking up his pace. Miguel attaches his lips to your chest, biting the plump flesh of your tits before taking your nipple in his mouth once again. Your hands go around his back, your nails raking down his spine that leave red streaks. He pushes himself further against you, folding you in half while he increases his speed, abusing your pussy by slamming his cock in and out of you. Your squealing and moaning becomes music to Miguel’s ears. He groans and licks his tongue around your nipple, lapping it back in his mouth to suck on it. His nails dig into your waist while the sound of skin slapping signaling just how desperate he is to fill you with his cock. “Atta girl,” He moans after moving up to your neck with wet open mouthed kisses. “Knew you could take all of me. Knew you would sound so pretty crying all over my cock.” He smirks, looking up to see your eyes rolled back, tears brimming your eyes in ecstasy instead of pain this time. Your pussy spasms around him as you whimper. 
“Mig–Mig–” You babble mindlessly. The only thing on your mind is Miguel, Miguel and Miguel. “So–so good…” You slur, vision going hazy while the lust clouded your mind. Miguel’s ego inflates, his dick twitching inside you. Even with a condom he could still feel your pussy contract around him, your warm walls sucking him in deeper. Your hips wiggle and buck weakly to match his thrusts but ultimately Miguel does all the work, sending your mind spinning while he practically fucks all your thoughts, fears, and insecurities from your brain—turning you into a dumb cock-drunk mess. Through the haze, you can hear your juices sloppily smacking between you and Miguel–an erotic sound of wet plaps, his balls becoming slick and sticky with your arousal. “God, you feel so good,” He moans, hips stuttering. “It’s like your cunt is just begging for my cum. You want it? Huh? This tight little pussy gonna milk me dry?” He quickened his pace, humping against you in fast short thrusts. You scratch his back, multiple lines of red marking his skin while your toes curl. “Yes, please, please, please–I wanna,” You babble through gasps. “It’s so good–I wanna cum–Don’t stop…!” Your voice becomes high pitched, your hips lifting to grind yourself on him. The both of you fucking one another exactly like horny college kids. Miguel growls, nipping at your neck to add more hickeys to your body. “Never. Holy shit–you’re so fucking sexy,” He cuts himself off with a groan, his sweaty forehead falling to your shoulder while he humps you. “Never letting you go. This pussy is mine.” His thumb finds your clit again, his fingers slowly being drenched with your messy juices that had spread all around your labia, smearing around your pussy with the help of Miguel’s unstable thrusting. His cold rings bumped against your hot skin, the difference in temperature becoming another factor in your raw lust.  Your screams of pleasure bounced off the walls. “C’mon pretty girl. Cum for me. I know you’re close.” He pants in your ear.
“Mig–gy!” You choke out, eyes squinted in ecstasy as Miguel helps you reach your climax. It wasn’t anything you’ve experienced before. White hot numbing pleasure waving through your body as you spasmed. Your orgasm shook your entire body and you clutched onto him tightly, your legs keeping him near, nails finding purchase in his back and arching your breasts up to his chest, nipples sensitive to the touch. Miguel followed right after: rubbing your clit faster and his balls ached with a tightness before releasing his seed into the condom, his cock twitching as it spurts out his cum. He moans loudly, his body shivering and shaking along with you but he still helps you come down from the high, pumping weakly as he empties himself. Your body falls limp, head lolled back while Miguel breaths heavily. He pulls out as gently as you can but your virgin cunt wasn’t used to such stimulation, each inch back caressed your sensitive nerves up until he finally left with a pop. Miguel’s hands shook as he took off the condom, body now covered in cold sweat now that the heat of the momentum was gone. He stumbled off your bed and tied the condom shut then dumped it in the small bin in your dorm room. He slipped back in your bed beside you, smiling to himself when you took deep breaths with your eyes closed. “Hey, you alright?” He asks with a soft wheeze. “Huh?” You barely heard him over the heartbeat pounding in your head. The blood flow goes through your body normally once again. “Hm? Oh. Mhm. Yeah.” Miguel chuckles, resting on one elbow with his cheek in his palm and brushes your sweaty hair back from your face. “Yeah? You were amazing.”
“Really?” You try to look up at him through the exhaustion in your eyes. Who knew sex could take all your energy? Miguel grabs your folded fuzzy blanket and unravels it to drape it on top of you two. “Really. I’m honored to be your first.” You blush at the reminder that you hadn’t had sex before and the reminder that you were no longer a virgin. You stare at his face while his hands caress your cheeks, his thumb rubbing the side of your neck right under your jawline. “Do you really like me?” You find yourself asking him. Miguel’s hand stops moving and he looks surprised. “Yeah,” He confirms gently. “I wouldn’t fuck you if I didn’t. I don’t have sex with just anyone.” He pulls your cheek. You frown and pout at him. “I'm serious!” Miguel chuckles. “I know, I know.” He tilts your chin up with his index finger and leans down to kiss you sweetly for a quick peck. He knows what’s really on your mind. “My pretty girl.” He hums as he stares down at you to admire the afterglow of your orgasm. “All mine. My pretty girl.” He dunks his head down to your chest, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in his embrace and snuggles you.
Your heart flutters. Pretty. It hits you then that Miguel really does think you’re pretty. You feel his ear piercings against your chest and the rings on his fingers running up and down the curve of your spine. His fingers find your white ribbon, crumpled under you and he twirls it around his ring finger. You struggle to hold back your smile as you hug him back, nuzzling your nose in his hair and falling asleep with the comfort of knowing someone genuinely finds you beautiful, inside and out.
Tumblr media
a/n: im sorry i wasnt normal i just love a good trope and punk miguel i cant help but make him cute
823 notes · View notes
heliads · 5 months
Note
Can you do Peter Pan x reader OUAT? Peter goes to the modern world with Emma, Snow, David and them as they are looking for someone. He meets this girl and takes an interest to her. He’s never seen someone with facial piercings, and dyed hair before, they come to realize she is the girl they’ve been looking for.
'magic finds magic' - peter pan
masterlist
Tumblr media
Peter Pan is leaving Neverland. Worse, he’s leaving Neverland alongside Snow, Emma, David, and Hook. In terms of traveling partners, this has got to be the lowest of the low. However, the sand in Peter’s immortal hourglass is running out, and his first attempt at prolonging his life with the heart of Henry Mills didn’t exactly go according to plan. It’s this or nothing, even though Peter is starting to wonder if it would be better to just die than put up with these people any longer.
Never in his life did Peter Pan think he’d be working with the good guys. But never in his life did Peter think he’d be dying, either. A few compromises will have to be made in the name of preserving Peter’s everlasting life, and if that means he has to put up with some princesses and pirates for a few days, so be it. In no time at all, his immortal life will be restored, and he can go back to Neverland and put all of this behind him. Hopefully.
Peter was supposed to die back on Neverland. He was running out of time, anyway. He had set up the perfect scheme:  kidnap Henry, disorient the boy’s rescuers on his island long enough to win the Heart of the Truest Believer, and cut the organ out of the boy’s chest if necessary. He’d almost gotten away with it, too, except he was foiled at the last minute. Heartbreaking. So unlike him.
For some reason, though, he hadn’t been left to die in the caverns of Skull Rock. Emma and the others had needed him, for some odd reason, and although none of them trust him in the slightest, they do trust Peter’s single-minded selfishness to keep himself alive. So they claim, at least, and so they had gotten a spell to give Peter one more week of life in exchange for help. If this plan works out, Peter will have a way to continue his immortal life without needing to murder Henry. If it doesn’t, or if he betrays them, he’ll die anyway.
He can feel it now, the pang of his close call with death. There’s a pain in his chest that wasn’t there before, a certain weakness in his lungs. Peter gets tired more easily. He feels– well, he feels like Henry and Emma. He feels mortal. Like he could die at any moment.
Peter has, obviously, thought about double-crossing them, maybe even triple-crossing them, but it’s no use. He feels shakily mortal right now, and Peter does not much enjoy the possibility of his own demise. This is the closest he’s ever come to being beaten, and Peter hates the feeling. He’ll have to play along for now, but after that, he will have his revenge.
First, though, Peter has to do what the others want. They’ve been careful to reveal as few details to him as possible, but the idea is solid. There’s a magical person somewhere in the modern world, in a city far from Storybrooke. This person is like the embodiment of a true love’s kiss spell, designed to renew hope in storybook characters through small acts of power that ultimately drive two needed people together. They’re like a guardian angel of those on the brink of destruction, which is exactly what Peter needs right now.
Peter has plenty of time to mull this over. They’ve forced him into a terrible, small room with awful carpets– an apartment, Emma called it– while they talk out what to do with both him and their missing spell-person. Peter is trying to focus, but he’s getting stared at by Henry Mills again, which is absolutely ruining his mood.
“What do you want?” Peter asks, glaring at the boy.
Henry just goggles back at him. “Don’t you feel bad for trying to kill me?”
Peter snorts. “Why would I do that?”
Henry shrugs. “You pretended you were my friend. I know you like the other Lost Boys on your island, I thought you would have felt bad for killing one of them. I guess not.”
“I don’t feel bad about killing someone so I would live,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s arguing with a child. “Go preach your morals to someone who wants to listen.”
“The others are busy,” Henry pouts.
Peter eyes him unhappily. “And what, I’m your best option for polite conversation? You really are desperate, aren’t you?”
Henry rolls his eyes. “I’d say you’re desperate. You’re the one who’s still talking to me.”
Peter can’t really argue with that, so he deftly changes the topic of conversation before Henry starts looking proud of himself again. “Tell me about our target again. You said you saw them before?”
“Only in a dream,” Henry admits, “but it was a clear dream, I swear. I saw a girl who looked about your age. She seemed like any other teenager, but there was something about her that was different. The way she spoke, maybe, or the glint in her eyes. She was magical, I’m sure of it. She can save Storybrooke.”
“And save me,” Peter reminds him. “That’s the important part.”
Henry rolls his eyes again. If he keeps that up, they’re going to get stuck like that forever. “Yes, I know, you’re only interested in keeping yourself alive. So long as it helps us find this girl, though, I don’t care.”
Peter leans forward. “What’s your plan for finding this girl, then? A little scouting party? This city is big. You’ll never find her.”
Henry shakes his head. “Magic has a way of finding magic. Somehow, our paths will cross.”
“That’s a terrible strategy,” Peter grouses. Why is he entrusting his life to this boy again? He remembers something about having no other options, but it doesn’t seem as good an excuse right now.
“Ask the adults, then,” Henry tells him, and gestures towards the miniscule apartment kitchen, where Emma, Snow, Hook, and David are currently huddled around a table, talking in hushed voices about what to do.
Not wanting to mess with the kid anymore, Peter pulls himself to his feet and heads over. “Tell me you have a plan,” he says.
The adults look up at him. “Find the girl,” Hook says shortly. “That’s our plan.”
Peter scoffs. “You could search this city for months and not find her. What if she doesn’t want to be found? If this girl has any brains at all, she’ll know that people will want her magic and she’ll hide. It’s what I would do.”
Emma sighs. “We don’t even know if this girl knows that she has magic. She’s probably just living an ordinary life, and we’re about to drag her out of it with all of our trouble.”
“Don’t tell me you feel bad for her,” Peter scolds her. “You want this, don’t you? So go get it, or I will.”
Snow tries to tell him to calm down, but David, so quick to anger when it comes to Peter, surges out of his chair. “How about you do something helpful and think with us instead of just insulting us?”
“I will do something helpful,” Peter informs him. “I’ll find her first.”
With that, he lunges for the apartment door, and is out of the tiny room and down the hall before they can stop him. Peter hears the thunder of footsteps after him, but he hurries down the stairs and out of the building. He has the advantage of being quick on his feet; if Neverland taught him anything, it’s how to run when you don’t want to be found.
Peter emerges into the bright sunshine of the city and stops dead in his tracks. He’s not used to the modern world, how the knives of its buildings slash up into the sky, how loud it is with those cars and signs and people. Peter swears he can even see metal things in the sky, soaring along predestined paths. It’s all so much compared to the world he used to know. No wonder some of the others had a hard time adjusting. His mortal heart lets out a pang of sympathy.
The door of the apartment building flies open, revealing Emma and the others hot on his trail. Peter curses under his breath and takes off in one direction, hurtling around pedestrians and shooting down the sidewalk. He heads for smaller streets, hoping to lose them in a swarm of alleyways. The others, more used to the terrain of the modern city, are gaining on him, and Peter is just starting to think that he’ll never be able to shake them when someone grabs him and pulls him into a nearby building.
Peter’s first instinct is to defend himself, but when he isn’t attacked, he realizes that the stranger is only trying to help him. There’s a window just to his left, and Peter watches Emma and the others appear seconds after him. They didn’t see him enter the shop, and keep sprinting down the road in the direction they thought he’d gone. Peter waits a few more intense moments, then decides that he’s lost them for good and turns back around to see who’s gone to the trouble of rescuing him.
He’s greeted with the sight of a girl about his age. She’s eyeing him cautiously, although the corners of her lips begin to prick up with a wicked grin. “Sorry for the rough introduction, but you looked like you needed some help,” she tells him.
Peter lets out a short laugh. “I’m glad to be rid of them, that’s for sure.”
The girl arches a brow. “What, did they catch you shoplifting? I’ve never seen people run that fast unless they were getting chased by the cops.”
Peter narrows his eyes, trying to figure out how on earth he would lift a shop, then decides it’s probably some slang term he doesn’t know. “Something like that,” he says evasively.
He studies the girl’s face to see if he’d answered correctly, and, judging by her impressed grin, he had. “Nice,” she says. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”
“Peter,” he replies. He gets the urge to introduce himself as he usually would– Peter, Peter Pan– then remembers at the last second that Emma had warned him about telling people who he was. Apparently, telling people he was a fictional character in their world wouldn’t go over too well.
“Peter,” the girl repeats. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Peter says, and realizes belatedly that he means it. He feels like how he had at the start of it all, when the Lost Boys had first started appearing on this island, but this feeling is far stronger. He wants to get to know this girl. He certainly doesn’t want her to leave.
“I’m new to the city,” he says abruptly. “Any chance you could show me around?”
Y/N laughs, surprised. “You’re new and you’re already in trouble? You’ll fit right in, Peter.”
He grins, in on the joke a half beat late. “I like to have fun, that’s all.”
“Well,” Y/N says, starting to lead him back towards the door of the shop, “I like fun, too. Maybe we should stick together.”
“I’d like that,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s being so honest all of a sudden. When he sees Y/N’s smile– real this time, not sarcastic or joking, but genuinely because of him– he thinks he knows why.
The two of them step back out into the light. “Where to first?” Peter asks.
“I was going to ask you that,” Y/N replies. “What do you want to do? Sightseeing, maybe? We can get some food, or just talk.”
“Anything,” he says. He’d follow her anywhere. The feeling in him right now is like nothing he’s ever felt before. The pain in his chest, Peter realizes with some surprise, is gone. He feels immortal. Like living in this one moment could last forever.
They end up spending the next few hours together. Y/N shows him around the city, taking Peter to her favorite spots. Peter stares at the vast cityscape and finally starts to understand why someone might choose the modern world over the natural one. He’ll always pick Neverland first, of course, but seeing the world through Y/N’s eyes, it makes sense.
The two of them get along like a house on fire. Y/N’s got this rebellious streak to her that fits in perfectly with Peter’s, well, Peter-ness. No joke is too dark, no sarcastic comment too caustic. They feel the same. Peter doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who thinks so much like him.
As the sun starts to set in the sky, Peter feels his spirits sinking. He doesn’t want to let go of this day, not when he knows it can never happen again. He’s supposed to be finding Henry’s spell-girl, but all Peter wants to do is spend more time with Y/N.
His mood is especially ruined when they turn a corner and find Henry Mills walking towards them. Peter’s eyes widen and he tries to steer Y/N back in the direction they’d come, but it’s too late. Henry lets out an audible gasp and starts hurrying towards them.
“Peter,” Henry calls out when he’s close enough to talk, “We’ve been looking for you all over! Where have you been?”
Y/N glances at Henry dubiously. “Who’s this?”
“My little brother,” Peter blurts out.
At the same time, Henry chimes in, “My friend from school.”
Peter shoots the younger boy a quick glare, then turns back to Y/N. “Both, actually. He’s my step-brother. Recent marriage. We’re still getting acclimated. Our family is a little chaotic.”
“You can say that again,” Henry mumbles. Peter fights the urge to butcher him.
While Peter silently advises himself on why murder would be bad at a time like this, Henry stares openly at Y/N. All of a sudden, the boy’s mouth hangs open. “Oh my gosh, it’s you.”
Y/N’s brow furrows. “Excuse me?”
All of a sudden, Peter feels a sick sensation in his stomach. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.
“You’re the girl from my dream,” Henry announces. “We’ve been looking for you.”
Y/N looks back at Peter. “What’s he talking about?”
The open, carefree expression, which had been on her face all day, is starting to be replaced with deep, unsettled fear. Peter hates to see it directed at him. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he begins. “Something about yourself.”
“You’re sounding a little creepy right now,” Y/N warns him. “Get to the point.”
“Alright,” Peter says. “You’re magical. So am I. We need your help to break a curse and save my life. How about that?”
Y/N shakes her head quickly. “This is crazy. Magic isn’t real.”
Peter can’t lose her, not like this, so he leans forward and holds out his hand. A ball of light appears inside his cupped fingers, glowing and bright. It’s a simple charm, one of the first he learned, but it has the desired effect. 
Y/N stares at it, transfixed, and when she speaks again, her voice is hushed. “That’s impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible,” Peter says. “Not magic. Not even the fact that you would find me in this city by accident. Magic is drawn to magic.”
Y/N’s eyes slowly raise to meet his. “This is real, then. I have magic.”
“You have magic,” Peter confirms. “Come with us, we can show you. They’re good people, Y/N. You can trust them.”
It’s the closest he’s ever come to honesty. For once, Peter isn’t playing a game. He isn’t trying to trick Y/N over to his side. He just wants her to be safe, and he knows that isn’t through lies.
Y/N smiles at him. “I trust you, Peter. That’s enough for me.”
She reaches over and takes his hand. Now that he’s focusing on it, Peter can feel the slow loop of her magic when they touch. It feels like power, but more than that, it feels like life. A life with her, maybe. A life for both of them.
ouat tag list: @loveanimals0000, @eclliipsed, @w1shes43, @lost-ender
all tags list: @wordsarelife
420 notes · View notes
ktaerssoi · 5 months
Text
wrestling for attention
summary:
paige bueckers x fem!reader
(509)
not proof read please don't hate me!!
"you couldn't beat me in an arm wrestle."
that's what your girlfriend had said twenty minutes ago when you had made a comment about being stronger than you looked. now, you and her were sitting at the kitchen table doing what seemed to be the thirtieth arm wrestle of the past half an hour.
you smiled as you pushed to make paige's hand hit the table again, not even straining yourself to do so. "P, i think we know who is better, can i please go make dinner now?" you had invited kk and nika over for dinner at your guys' apartment that night and you were supposed to get cooking by 5:45 and it was now nearing 6.
"no y/n. i don't know how your cheating, but there is no way your beating me fairly." you roll your eyes as you get up, now standing behind your girlfriend as you rub her shoulders up and down. "face it, you just need to work out your arms more." she groans as you turn and walk into the kitchen, not accepting defeat. "i will win one!"
"sure you will babe."
-
you were cleaning dishes an hour or two later when you were cornered by paige, nika, and kk in your kitchen. "how can i help you ladies today?" you dried the rest of the cups, putting them on the rack to dry.
"paige tells us you're an arm wrestle god. we find that hard to believe." nika crosses her arms and kk narrows her eyes at you as you laugh at their competitiveness. "if you guys think you can take me.." you put your hands up in defense as you round the counter to lean on the table.
nika had sat down after attempting to beat your four times, eventually admitting that you really were a force to be reckoned with. kk on the other hand not only made you go against her eight times, but made you switch hands for two of them.
"freak of nature over here." you felt paige's arms snake around your waist as you leaned over the table for the last round against kk. her head was on your shoulder and you rubbed her forearm that was resting on your hip.
"not my fault a bunch of college athletes can't beat some random at an arm wrestle. seriously, should i call Geno and let him know?" kk laughs at your comment and her and nika leave shortly thereafter.
-
lying in bed later that night with paige's head resting comfortably on your chest, she whispers up to you. "i might actually have to start working my arms more because damn babe, they're sore from wrestling." you let out a giggle at the possible double meaning of the sentence and nodded.
"you're still the arm wrestle champ, i'll tell anyone who askes that today was a fluke." you smile as you kiss her forehead goodnight, thinking about all the other inside jokes the two of you would have by the time you grew old together.
um anyway, the girl i like told my bsf that she likes me so yk, your girl got game or wtvr. i was actually losing my mind but shhhhh..anyway thats all, not proofread, also please give me more CC requests!! - kate
467 notes · View notes
dredgesnails · 7 months
Text
i very badly want a double life 2: electric boogaloo but crucially no one is allowed to be paired up with their soulmate from the first one (except ranchers) and also lizzie and gem and mumbo and skizz are there too. anyway here are some pairings i think would be funny or interesting or would please me personally:
mumbo + scar: complete the mumscarian circuit
mumbo + lizzie: statistically the worst players right after jimmy. lizzie died before him once and she can do it again (and take mumbo with her)
grian + jimmy: nightmare scenario for the both of them
pearl + gem: an unfair matchup as they would win no problem but i love them together and i think we deserve them together after the events of secret life
scar + tango: wildly unpredictable. scar takes damage constantly but (almost) always escapes by the skin of his teeth. tango on the other hand has blown himself up before
pair them up best + worst in order (pearl + jimmy, gem + mumbo, scott + lizzie etc) and see if they manage to balance each other out. this takes out some of the randomness but there are still some fun duos i think would come out of it (etho + bdubs, skizz + martyn, impulse + bigb) and i also think pearl could keep jimmy alive long enough to not die first
and for lore reasons:
grian + bigb: lets see how the secret soulmates can handle being real soulmates
scott + jimmy: ok i know the last time they were together jimmy doomed them both with his curse but this time it’ll be different scott’s lucky now
cleo + etho: the progression of divorced with kids > roomies > soulmates tickles me
ren + martyn: i miss renchanting
+ bonus because i have been thinking about who i would want joining the life series a lot. this is who i want to join
doc + anyone really but mostly grian: okay seriously i imagined doc in the life series once and now ive been consumed by the desire to see it. especially with his health linked to grian. think about it. would be fun with ren also for entirely opposite reasons
437 notes · View notes
Note
Hello you amazing wonderful awesomely awesome person! I’m so madly obsessed with your work
Very curious on your thoughts on this: zombie apocalypse au
Do you think Jason and readers first meeting would be need to be more in a life threatening situation in order to stick or would they be able to meet in a calmer environment and stick together?
This isn’t a push for you to write any one shot! Just curious what you think and any additional thoughts or headcanons you might have for this au 👀
Tysm for continuing to put out awesome writing all the time!
The Death Stench
Ahh, asks like this is why I love taking requests!! Thank you, nonnie!! Seriously, so many great ideas come through my inbox that I never would have thought of myself! I was actually so excited when I finally sat down to write this. Sorry it took so long! :)
~1.4k words
Tumblr media
Gotham has always been a cesspool of filth and rot. It's something Jason has long grown used to. But the hoards of groaning, decaying zombies are something he's still learning to live with.
It's been four– no, five months since the world fell apart, since the apocalypse broke down society. The government is in shambles, if it still exists, and Jason hasn't seen or heard another living person in weeks.
He thinks he owes his survival to whatever the pit did to him. The corpses that line the streets just seem to ignore him and shuffle past as he breaks into a little corner store for supplies.
It's why he's started to get complacent. It is so easy to not double or triple check your surroundings when the undead treat you like one of their own.
It's a fact he didn't realize until he's staring down the barrel of a gun and maybe the only other living, breathing person on Gotham.
He blinks at them. They blink at him. "You're not one of– you're alive," You half question, surprise and shock clear in their voice.
Jason slowly raises his hands, the last thing he wants to do is get shot when his medical supplies are dwindling, "I'm alive."
He stares at you for a minute, and you stare back before slowly lowering your gun, "I was here first."
He laughs. It's ridiculous. The world ended, he hasn't had a proper conversation in weeks, and you're trying to lay claim to a corner store in shambles. But, he steps back anyway and gestures to the ransacked aisles, "All yours then."
He quirks an eyebrow when you actually look panicked. "Wait," You start, and lower your gun completely, "I'm sorry, I just– haven't seen anyone in a while. I think I forgot how to talk to people."
You're both aware of the risk you took admitting that, to tell a stranger you're completely and utterly alone in this city, that there's no one waiting for you to return.
Jason has the overwhelming urge to make your risk worth it. He can't explain it, but he chalks it up to some form of loneliness.
So, he smiles at you, easy-going and every inch the charming grin that used to win over the old ladies at charity galas, "I haven't been around people in a while either. Maybe we can figure it out together?"
His heart stutters when you smile back, so clearly relieved. "I'd like that," You admit and holster your gun.
The two of you carefully pick through the store, and an uncertain but steady partnership forms between the two of you.
It takes some time, but he learns which shots you can make and which you can't. You learn which knee hurts him when he jumps over chain wire fences. You both learn to cover each other's blind spots, to trust each other to make decisions.
You haven't quite learned that zombies just don't seem to detect him, and he hasn't found a good way to bring it up, to explain that, 'Hey, I was dead and apparently I qualify as one of them. But don't worry! I won't eat you!'
Yeah, Jason figures you wouldn't be too comfortable with him sleeping near you if he said it like that.
He doesn't really get the chance to explain until he has to use his uncanny ability to blend in with rotting corpses to save your life.
It was supposed to be a normal supply run. Pick over what's left of a pharmacy and get out. Cut and dry. Something you've both done more times than you can count. Until it goes wrong.
He'd cleared the area, he'd been so careful, you both were. But you hadn't been lucky. It was no one's fault, when you open a cabinet and a skittish raccoon jumps out at you, sending you falling back.
The animal knocks over cans and boxes as it frantically scampers to get away. It's loud. Too loud.
The two of you froze, when the sounds of shuffling feet start to make their way to the door. Jason weighs his options, and the piece of his heart that had become undeniably yours won quickly.
He grabs your arm and hauls you to your feet. "C'mon," he mutters, dragging you towards a supply closet.
"We need to run," You say quickly, tugging at your arm and trying to push him towards the exit.
"We won't make it," he says firmly and shoves you into the tiny space. He follows you in and pulls the door shut. The door doesn't lock, and he reaches around you to grab an extension cable off a shelf.
"Jason," You half hiss, eyes wide as the groans start to get louder.
He shushes you, heart racing as he ties one end of the extension cord to the door knob, and the other to the metal poles of the shelf.
It's a start, but it wouldn't stop anything from breaking down the door. "Sorry," Jason mumbles. He returns your confused look with an apologetic one, and immediately crowds you against the wall.
He grabs the back of your neck to press your face to his chest. His other hand grabs at your hip, almost desperate. Jason realizes he hasn't been afraid in a long time.
He buries his face in your hair and silently wills you to understand. If he can keep them from getting your scent, hearing you, you'll be safe. He can protect you, he just needs you to stay like this, hidden and sheltered against the dirty wall of the closet.
He knows you can't begin to guess why he's doing this, but you don't make a sound. Your fingers curl into his jacket as the zombies shuffle around the pharmacy. Grunts fill the air as they pass by the door, and Jason feels you stiffen against him.
It's instinctual, when his thumb starts to rub back and forth across your hip. He wants to help, wants you to feel calm and safe even as the smell of death fills the air.
He's surprised when you do relax against him, tucking your face further into his chest. He's not sure how long you stay like that. His thumb never stills, and eventually, the sounds of undead fade, and he's left with just you.
Jason lets himself linger for a moment, savoring your closeness, before slowly untangling himself from you. "You're okay," he says softly, he means for it to be a question, but it comes out as a fact, a complete certainty that you are okay.
You look up at him, eyes wide, "How are we even alive? I've never seen– they've never just ignored people before."
He winces, "I'll– Let me explain. Please. Just not here." He deflates a little at the uncertainty that flashes across your face, but you nod and follow him back to the rooftop that's become his and your base.
He tries to explain, really, does his best to talk about the Pit, who he was, what he used to do. You never interrupt, you listen to every word he says as he lights a fire, methodically making food over the open flame.
You don't say anything as he admits the undead have never been interested in him, but you do let him sit next to you to eat.
He runs out of things to say, as the sun sets over a desolate Gotham. Jason thinks you're going to leave. Or ask him to leave. But you don't. You lean your head against his shoulder, and all the air leaves his lungs.
"I'm glad you're here, Jason," You tell him. And for the first time in a long time, Jason is too.
"I'm glad you're here, too," he echoes, and he hesitantly lowers his head to rest against yours. He breathes a sigh of relief when you don't move, only relax into his side.
Jason closes his eyes to bask in the moment, in being with you, and swears there's not a thing he wouldn't do to keep you like this. To keep you with him, to keep you happy, to keep you alive.
He thinks it might be the reason he's still breathing.
247 notes · View notes
noiriarti · 2 months
Text
Just Practice: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Modern Best Friends AU) Ch. 1
Tumblr media
Summary: Anakin is your best friend, the one person you can't survive without, and you're about to go to different colleges. You bring up your worries about your inexperience and he offers to help.
NSFW!!!!!!!
[Ch. 1], Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Bonus Chapter
Chapter 1: Kissing Practice
The August air was humid and thick, even though the sun had already set, and you could feel the sweat dripping down from your bike helmet to your forehead. You'd bet anything that the mosquitoes were out in full force, but you were speeding too fast on your bike to get caught by one of them. The hot wind whipped your face as you went downhill on the road toward your house, but you felt another breeze beside you. Your best friend, Anakin. He's a competitive little shit, has been since you were kids. Luckily, you're pretty competitive too. You pedaled faster, faster, faster, faster, jolting over the bumps where potholes were asphalted over and cracks in the road had worn deeper into the road. There's no sidewalk out here, just tall grass on either side of you.
Anakin let out an evil chuckle as he passed you, just barely, and you rolled your eyes and doubled down. He's gained on you, more than a little, and you thought you might just lose your bet. You looked to your right, trying to find a way to get just a little bit of an edge. When you turn right in a quarter of a mile, onto your street, you might gain just a half second on him. It could be enough to win. But as you looked at the street ahead of you, something caught your eye in the grass. Something moving.
You slammed down on the brakes, digging your worn sneakers into the ground as you skidded to a stop. You were planning to buy new ones next week, anyway. Anakin shot past you, racing ahead with a whoop of joy. He turned around to stick out his tongue at you, but saw you had stopped and were no longer focused on the road at all. He circled back to you, still panting from the race, and climbed off his bike to face you.
"What's up?" He turned to look at you, concerned and curious, but you were focused on something else entirely. In the tall grass, as the sun had set, fireflies had begun darting in between the stalks, peeking out slivers of their light. You hadn't realized how dark it had gotten on your way back from the gas station, but the stars were already out. It was a beautiful night, and you wished you could capture it, bottle it up and keep it on your shelf. A little slice of home, the last one you would have for a while. You vaguely registered that Anakin was saying something as you stared out at the fireflies, but you were just thinking about how you probably wouldn't see the stars like this, or fireflies at all, for a good while yet. The thought made your heart ache.
"Helloooo?" he singsonged, "Anyone there?" He waved a hand in front of your face, and you snapped out of it. You looked up at him, and he smiled that lopsided smile you knew like the back of your hand. 
"Hm? Oh, yeah. Just thinking," you replied somewhat absently.
"Well, let's get home, Socrates. These slurpees aren't getting any colder," he said, shaking the cup in his hand (Mountain Dew Freeze, his favorite) to make his point. 
"Fine, fine," you conceded, smirking. You saw your opportunity and got back on your bike. "Last one there has to do the dishes!" You put your foot on your pedal and pushed, getting your momentum started. He called out after you in protest as he scrambled onto his bike and tried to catch up, but it was too late. A quarter of a mile later, when you pulled into your street, and then turned onto your driveway, he was just a second behind you.
"No fair!! You cheater!" He yelled as you unclipped your helmet and did a little victory dance. You both dropped your bikes in the grass next to the driveway with a slightly concerning thump, then headed up the stairs to the front door. You opened the screen door with a creak--you should remind your parents to oil that hinge, you thought--then unlocked the front door. 
The AC hit your damp and sweaty faces with a delightful cool breeze, and you sighed in joy. Cold. Cold. Nice. Ani had always hated the heat, as did you. You were both winter kids, and your favorite activity was sledding. You'd been best friends since winter of third grade, when he and his mom had moved from Texas to your small Minnesota town, into the house right next door. Your moms became fast friends from the moment they were introduced, and Shmi's job as the school nurse meant she could drop you off and pick you up. Initially, you weren't sure what to think of him. He was a tiny little guy, way shorter than you, with freckles exploding all over his face. But then he smiled that lopsided grin of his which made his eyes crinkle, told you his name was Ani, and asked if there were any good hills around for sledding. Later, on the way back from school, he asked in a tiny voice if you'd go with him. Who were you to say no?
Your whole friendship was built with snow crusted on the tops of your boots and melted into your mittens. At the end of January in sixth grade, you had both spent the winter building up a pile of snow and digging out the inside to make a snow clubhouse (read: cave). The cold air burned the inside of your throats as you panted after the manual labor of digging for hours, but it was finally done. Once you had crawled through the entrance and sat on the hard snow, enveloped by the packed ice all around you, he looked you straight in your eyes and told you "our future house should be made of snow". Like he didn't change your life with that one little word. Our.
But you were just friends. Your heart would flutter sometimes, but it was all ignorable until tenth grade. After your birthday dinner with your family (which included Shmi and Ani, obviously), he slipped you a little box. When you opened it, the most silver necklace with a snowflake pendant winked out at you. Shmi told you later that it wasn't just silver, it was white gold, and incredibly expensive. That he had been saving up for a whole year to buy it for you. His gentle hands clasped it into place behind your neck, and you shivered when he put them on your shoulders. There, he said, perfect.
It wasn't so easy to ignore after that, but you managed. Through the summers working together at the park, the semesters in the same classes, and the afternoons playing games and doing homework, you got profoundly skilled at crushing your feelings deep, deep down.
And then Padme came along. And the idea of someone else seeing Ani's baby photos, or being loved by his mom, or kissing him absolutely killed you. Because you were friends. But that was all over now. It was just the two of you, as normal.
Now, you were both about to leave town, at least until Thanksgiving. One last family dinner, he said when he suggested it. When you both walked into your house, Shmi called out that dinner was on the table in two minutes, so you sucked up the rest of your slurpees so quickly your stomach got queasy.
The finality of it all almost escaped you. The little glances your parents cast to one another. Anakin's favorite mashed potatoes. Cake for dessert. The details were all whispering This is the end. Enjoy it while you can. Ani could tell something was off, too, and you kept shooting glances at one another. He tried to make you smile by bumping his legs into yours with a grin, like he did when you were little, but it didn't help. Once dinner was done, the adults went to have coffee in the living room, leaving Anakin to do the dishes. You dashed up to your room as soon as you could, trying to hold onto what little time you had left.
Half an hour later, the lamp by your bed cast a warm glow over the room, and you could hear the crickets through the window. You were laying on bed reading a book--some YA novel where you weren't really processing what was happening. Apocalypse? Love triangle?--when Ani finished the dishes and burst in. He didn't knock, of course. There wasn't any energy left in you to complain. You knew you'd miss him bursting into your room unannounced next week, and the week after that, and the week after. Would that longing ever fade?
"Well, I finished the dishes. You cheater," he joked as he sat down on the bed next to you. You sat up, your body complaining from your race earlier, and stuck your tongue out at him. You didn't have it in you to say more. The two of you sat in silence, his face turning slightly more concerned as he watched you stare off into space.
"You good? You've been off all night," he commented, bumping his shoulder against yours. You threw him a half-hearted smile as you fumbled with your snowflake pendant.
"Fine, yeah. Just... Tomorrow is a lot." You didn't want to tell him the truth, that you couldn't imagine your life without him in it, and that moving somewhere completely different would shatter your heart, so you didn't.
Anakin finally cracked a smile, and you wondered when the last time you had seen him not smile was. That lopsided grin practically never left his face, and it was infectious to see. "So you're scared, huh?" 
Always teasing you. But there was an undercurrent of sincerity there, buried deep. When you were younger, you had worried about if he'd still be your friend when others came around, and maybe he'd like them more than he liked you, but he stayed loyal to you. Even when Tommy Masterson in seventh grade said you were probably a bedwetter, Anakin not-so-subtly started a rumor that Tommy peed himself when he got too excited. (Granted, that rumor only gained traction because Anakin had splashed the kid's pants with apple juice after gym. And punched him. But you didn't hear about that until last year.)
"Yeah, I guess. Everything will be different and, well--making friends isn't super easy. I mean, real friends. Like you," you said. Anakin responded with just a thoughtful hmm, while his eyes, usually clear blue, were dark and stormy in the lamplight. His smile had faded just a bit, and he was looking downward. For a second, you thought he was looking at your lips with that intense look, but you shook the thought away. Friends. 
"I just, I don't know. I'm also worried about, well, oh fuck this is awkward to say out loud, dating, I guess?" You hadn't confessed that to anyone else. Anakin was silent, still boring into you with that look in his eye. The words came out like a river, filling in every gap of the silence between you. You kept messing with the snowflake pendant, like you always did when you were nervous. "I wish I had dated someone in high school. I haven't even kissed anyone, other than Alex in fucking freshman year during spin the bottle, so it wasn't even real, and I only went on a date with that one guy last year but we didn't even hold hands--what kind of cute college guy will want someone who hasn't even gotten to second base or hasn't actually kissed someone for real? I'm still a��virgin. Am I just--" Anakin cut off your rambling with a soft "hey," and you expected him to say something else, but he just sat, silent.
"Sorry," you said, awkwardly. God, that was so cringe of you. You hated hearing about it when Anakin told you about his first kiss, and the first time he had gone a bit further with his girlfriend in sophomore year. Padme was so nice and cool and great, but you couldn't shake the unease in the pit of your stomach when you saw them holding hands. Or kissing. Or cuddling on the couch at a party. It was just being protective. That's what best friends do. Right? The other option was unthinkable.
"I could help," he said simply, like it wasn't anything serious. The words sat between you, the air heavy with his implication. Hope nestled in your chest, but you pushed it away. He probably meant he could set you up with one of the guys on the soccer team. He did claim that Isaiah had a crush on you, but the kid ate his own boogers until high school. Gross.
"I'm not going to date Isaiah. Or Kevin," you added. Kevin was even worse. You expected Anakin to laugh, dismiss the whole idea, but he kept that intense look in his eyes.
"What? Those losers? Nah... No, I mean, I could help you. We could... practice," he let out a tiny laugh, and your face fell, so he rushed to add, "Sorry. It's just. Feels funny to say. But I'm serious. We could. If you wanted." The breath left your chest. This isn't happening. It can't be. Then why were you deliriously happy? Why did you want nothing more than to lean over and kiss him? You searched his face for some tell that this was all some bit that he'd tease you for. Some joke that he took too far. But all you found was sincerity and earnestness. He wanted this. He was literally offering it. His suggestion sat between you, curling into your stomach and sending it churning and fluttering. Was he actually giving you butterflies? But if you kissed him, you'd ruin everything you had for years. You were going to say no. No. No. 
But why did that answer break your heart?
Shit. You had taken too long. You could see him crawling back into his shell, about to make some joke about how you had cooties or something, when you blurted out your answer. 
"Yes. I mean--sure. I need the practice, right?" You cringed. Real smooth. His eyes widened, and he smiled--a genuine smile, no teasing in it, just affection. You could still sense that intensity rolling off him like waves. 
"Okay," he said. This time, there wasn't any hiding the way his gaze flitted down to your lips. Anakin scooched closer to you with an awkward "um" as he tried to figure out how to navigate kissing his best friend. He suddenly wished there was a handbook, or a guide to tell him how to make this not awkward even though he wanted it so badly.
When his hand, still soft and warm from washing the dishes, his fingers wrinkled from the water, came up to touch your cheek, you had to suppress a surprised jump. Oh, God. This was real. His face was coming closer. This was happening. Holy fuck holy fuck holyfuckholyfuckholyfuckholyfuck
Then his lips met yours and your brain imploded. This was Anakin and you. You and Anakin. And holy fuck it felt so good. The rhythm of kissing was new to you--before, you'd only pecked Alex, and that was once, in front of half the graduating class. This was completely different. And terrifying. Anakin's mouth moved against you, and you gradually tried to mimic his movements. You felt his lips part just a bit wider, and, in your enthusiasm, you bumped your teeth together. Hard. Anakin grunted in pain, and, then, suddenly, he pulled away. Fuck. Was this it? Was that all you would get?
"OhmyGodareyouokay?" You blurted, your hands shooting up to cup his cheeks. He laughed heartily, his eyes twinkling.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Looks like you needed the practice, though," he said as he cackled. Heat rushed into your cheeks, and you were sure you were as red as a tomato. You smacked his shoulder a few times, and then a few more times for good measure. 
"Asshole!" He was still smirking, but he was leaning back in. You hadn't scared him off, and you thanked every god you could think of. Soon, his lips were back on yours, and your heart rate went back into the triple digits. This time, his hand came up to the small of your back, pulling you in closer, so that your thighs were pressed up against each other.
As he kissed you again, you swore you grew ten times as many nerve endings in your lips. The kisses started out slow and soft, like they were the first time, but soon they grew hungry. Soon, you felt his tongue poke out and tease your lip, which produced an embarrassing whimper from you. He'd probably make fun of you later, and you couldn't care less. His free hand grabbed your legs by the knee and hoisted them up over his, so that you were nearly in his lap. The way your lips felt against each other was nothing short of sinful. If this is what kissing everyone felt like, you had been seriously missing out. However, you got the sense that this was something special. Guilt creeped into your thoughts. This was different for you than it was for him. Though you'd been denying it, you reasoned you probably had feelings for him. (You were actually utterly head-over-heels for him, but that wasn't something you were prepared to admit yet). Either way, you felt for a second like you were taking advantage of the situation. But he had offered, so you kissed him even harder to make the thoughts go away. God, his mouth felt good.
The kisses that had been hungry before were ravenous at this point, sloppy and drunk on each other. His warm, strong hand on your legs pulled you even closer, so that you were completely sitting on him, but the angle was a bit weird. You pulled away, just for a second, and he sloppily trailed kisses down your jaw and neck. You moaned loudly, not able to hide your response to the feeling of his tongue on your neck, teasing you in little circles in between kisses. You hitched one of your legs over him and straddled him. If he was going to escalate, so were you.
Now that you were on his lap, you had to lean down to kiss him, holding his face in your hands. His smooth cheek was feverish under your touch, and he was kissing you even more desperately than he was before, if that was even possible. You felt something on your thigh and--oh.
Oh. He was hard. Fuck, that was something else. You felt yourself getting even wetter, begging for some sort of touch. Fuck it. You took the risk, and you lowered your clothed pussy onto him. He wasn't just hard, he was rock hard. And big. When he felt your weight on him, he groaned into your mouth, not daring to break the kiss. You pulled away, just to make sure you weren't crossing some sort of poorly defined line. As if you guys had laid this out in detail beforehand.
"Is this okay?" You half-whispered, half-panted into his mouth. He mumbled a series of 'yes's and nodded fervently, going straight back to kissing you with his hands on your hips. Tentatively, you rolled your hips against him, and he grunted as he kept kissing you. The friction was perfect, finally giving you some relief. He was driving you absolutely insane. You kept grinding your hips, chasing the feeling. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged gently, and his hips twitched up to you. You could feel his hands helping you grind into him, and soon enough he was thrusting up in time with you. The sounds flowed out of you freely now, little whimpers and gasps that matched his groans.
Then someone was knocking at the door, and you ripped yourself away from him. It was Shmi.
"Ani? We should go home now, still a lot of packing to do!" He looked up at you with wide eyes, caught red-handed. Anakin was panting, heavily, barely capable of putting together a sentence.
"Coming!" He called back, though his voice faltered. As you both looked at each other, his boyish grin reappeared, and you both burst out laughing. What the fuck just happened? He helped you get off him and sit back down on your bed. His tall, lean frame leaned over you, putting your foreheads together as your laughter trailed off.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he said in a low voice, before kissing you one more time. This kiss was different. There wasn't urgency, or horniness, just a gentle sweetness to it. It was more painful than all your other kisses combined. You nodded, not able to say a single word, as he left the room. 
You could hear him going down the stairs, and greeting your parents. You just sat there, frozen, like your world hadn't just changed in the last half hour. And the funny part? You weren't even thinking about moving away anymore.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!
246 notes · View notes
https-immotmari · 9 months
Text
❝ Crush na crush na crush kita! ❞ ─── pjsk boys!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
WRITER'S START IN BEING DELULU!
Just from the title, y'all should have a thought of where I come from lmao <(^-^)>! Anyways, third request came in and I hope you don't mind the reader's gender being neutral, thank you!~
fandom! .project sekai character(s) used! .akito shinonome, toya aoyagi, tsukasa tenma and rui kamishiro gender of reader! .gn!reader however, implied fem!reader implied in toya's and tsukasa's sections head start! .reader, in both akito's and toya's, is a senior, reader in toya's section is tsukasa's older (by one minute) twin sibling, light angst in toya's section, rui's reader is a foregnier and doesn't understand nor speak japanese very well however, they can understand english
Tumblr media
. . .akito shinonome!
❝ Di mo ba nadarama? (Don't you feel?) ❞
what in the H E double hockey sticks is he feeling?!
he doesn't know why his heart goes crazy just the mere sight of you he doesn't know why he suddenly stutters his words when talking to you, he just doesn't understand why his mind wants to see you every day.
well, to everyone, it's no surprised you've captured the hearts of majority of the student population in kamiyama high. you're literally the IT girl/boy/person of kamiyama and you aren't even aware of it.
you're even a great senior! he met you through toya, who was trying to find tsukasa since he wanted to confirm something and they found him talking to you, and he was instantly whipped! though, he denies it.
toya lightly teases him that he acts like a mess when you're around him and akito just barks back with lies, just to save his pride.
"I'm telling the truth, toya. I don't act weird whenever (last name)-san is around." akito denied his best friend's, toya, accusation. him? having a crush on the school's heartthrob? that's stupid. he would never-
"excuse me?" akito suddenly froze on the spot as toya twirled his head only to see you carrying a bunch of test papers. "oh? toya? and uhm.." you squinted your eyes, trying to recall the name of the frozen ginger beside toya, "oh right! akito, right? you're ena's cute little brother, hm?" you tilt your head forward a bit, smiling in his way.
in the end, toya had the last laugh as he watches his best friend being completely different around their senior, "I told you so." as akito clutches his chest, where his heart is at.
just innocently dropping hints to toya that he 'needs' help with a difficult math problem, that's probably a year above them level, and that he needs a reliable and amazing senior to help him.
he ends up having tsukasa and sometimes rui, it's rare having you to 'help' him since you're quite busy as well.
but, that doesn't stop him! he often has toya delivers his little gifts, after a long time convincing toya that it was his older sister's, ena, request to deliver 'her' gifts, to your desk when you're not around, some students may have thought that toya has a crush on you.
his little gifts consist of key chains of (favorite things), sometimes flowers and pins with your favorite series/anime/manga/etc.
how he knew this? he actually got information from one of ena's conversation with you and your post from your social medias, in which he secretly hearts everything on an alternative account.
he turns into a lovesick puppy the moment you walk in, if he were a puppy, his tail would be going crazy all the while his face would be a hot mess.
during the sport event, you were one of the mc's and it made akito's motivation in winning increased TO THE MAX!
he was running faster than ever, even ena was suprised to see her little brother like that, poor tsukasa who was on his back, tsukasa was holding onto akito's shoulders for dear life.
"shinonome-san is running as fast as ever! it seems like he's eager to win, don'tcha think, partner?" the other mc look at you, waiting for your commentary.
you chuckled, smiling as you watch the intense match between your juniors, mizuki and akito. "I couldn't agree more, partner! even poor tenma-san is holding on for dear life~" both you and your partner snickered.
after he won that match, he was congratulated by you over the mic and no one can image the furious blush appearing on his cheeks, like, YOU, out of all people, were to congratulate him first before toya can?????
he was on cloud nine that even toya had a difficult time in getting him back to his senses till they were in their band practice, an hand to shake him back to life.
he denies this for a long time but, on valentine's day, instead of the classic chocolates and flower, he actually got you special and that he's proud of but, never admit it was him.
he got the valentine's day special chocolate pancake with (favorite fruit) on the side from the place where he usually buys his pancakes, he bought it using his hard-earned money. he also made oragami flowers, bouquet of flowers actually, the flowers being all of your favorite kinds. he actually spent a lot of time and dedication on the oragami flowers and learned them from a lot of youtube videos.
of course, he remained anonymously.
out all the gifts you've received that day, his gift stand out the most due to his effort in making it perfect. you gushed about it to your friends and one of them was ena. she had a gut feeling that it was her little brother, akito, but never got confirmation.
he doesn't know why his heart goes crazy just the mere sight of you, he doesn't know why he suddenly stutters his words when talking to you, he just doesn't understand why his mind wants to see you everyday. Don't you feel it?
Tumblr media
. . .toya aoyagi!
❝ Crush mo rin kaya ako? (Do you have a crush on me too?) ❞
you're actually tsukasa's older, by one-minute, twin sibling so, he's known you very well.
though, he wasn't able to have a lot of conversation with you back then since you were more focused on your youngest sibling's, saki, health and was always in the hospital, in which he couldn't go, fearing that it upset his father.
despite not often having to chat with you, toya can see you as the loving and caring older tenma sibling, within the three tenma siblings, you're the matured and calm one, one of the reasons why toya and you got along pretty well.
him crushing on you came when you caught him tearing up a bit after an argument he had with his father, he was a little kid at the time, and instead of degrading him for crying, you sat beside him and comforted him, whispering nothing but sweet things to him as he cried in your shoulder. you comforted him like how you comforted tsukasa whenever he has his episode due to him thinking he wasn't a great enough brother for saki.
after comforting him, you gave him a small smile and encouraged him to go after what he loves the most, and at that moment, the thing, or person, he loves the most at the moment, till now, is you. he just doesn't realize it till his unitmates told him he was, in fact, has a crush on you.
he felt the warm and loving aura coming out of you that you always give to your family, especially to your younger siblings. something he had craved from his father ever since he was born and yet he never received.
after that day, this little kid was always following you around like a little duckling, except in the hospital, in which you find it to be amusing and adorable since you've ever known toya to be the quiet yet blunt stoic kid and seeing him following you around whenever him and you are inside your house.
toya, at the time, didn't know why his cheeks felt warm and his heart going slightly faster than before whenever he encounters you. it makes him space out sometimes.
one time, he made a claw machine empty because he wanted to give you plushies like he gives to saki, through tsukasa, as well! you were surprised to see a lot of stuff toys in your room when you got back home from the hospital.
it made your face brighten up and as a thank you, you gave toya one of your beloved books in which you cherished the most so, image the shock expression he had once tsukasa told him that it was one of your cherished books you held dearly, and you gave it to HIM??
upon knowing that fact, the book you gave to him now has its very own section in his bedroom shelf, it even has its own clear protection case to keep the dust away if he's not reading it at the moment.
nobody is allowed to touch the book besides him and you.
now that you two, alongside tsukasa and saki, have grown into teenagers, you two have more screen time with each other now that saki is finally out of the hospital!
since you and tsukasa are the same age, meaning when toya was a freshman in kamiyama, you were a senior at miyamasuzaka, the same all-girls school saki is in.
despite being in different schools, you two interacted a lot! especially when all four of you hangout after school!
his feelings for you were rather obvious, at least to tsukasa and saki, he was so different from his quiet and stoic self.
whenever you're around, he smiles more often all the while talking to you, toya can't help it! you're just a beautiful scenery, it's a crime to not admire you. saki even called him out-
"(n/n) sure does look beautiful, right, toya-kun?" saki innocently teased the blue haired individual, who was admiring her older sibling as they baked a bunch of cookies for the four of them.
toya immediately snapped out of his daydreaming upon being called out, "o-oh.. yes, of course they are." he shyly nodded, feeling his cheeks warming up. saki simply chuckles, knowing damn well that she'll be the matchmaker alongside her older brother.
when vivid bad squad was formed, he immediately rushed to you and told you about it, you smiled at him, he was finally doing what he wanted and not what his father wanted, and you were proud of him.
whenever he's at band practice, he often unconsciously rambles about you to his bandmates, an and akito teases him about it, telling him that they didn't know toya has a crush.
that's when he furrows his brows, crush?
due to his oblivious self, an and akito, mostly an, explained to him that he has a crush on you, and he was like "oh...oh!"
now with this newfound information, he felt even more nervous around you, sometimes stuttering his words as if he's malfunctioning robot.
his heart just goes crazy and with the way you acted around him these couple of years, thanks to an explaining how most women acted when they have a crush on you, he wonders if you also have a crush on him too?
Tumblr media
. . .tsukasa tenma!
❝ Cross my heart, P.S. I love you ❞
he met you first in phoenix wonderland, you were a guest invited by one of your friends.
he, alongside his troupe members, was greeting the guests ever-so loudly and cheerfully and when his orange-yellow eyes set on you, his world just stopped right there and then.
your (h/c) was shining, complimenting your sparkling eyes and dazzling sweet smile, he felt his heart was racing, racing fast.
he was so stunned that when you and your friends came up to him and his troupe members, he was fumbling with his words all the while his troupe members cheerfully, mostly emu, greeted you and your friends. tsukasa's eyes were mostly on you, though he did try to act normal and tried to look at your friends as well but, his eyes kept glancing over you.
rui, who noticed this, teased him after you and your friends went away. tsukasa denied it, saying you look 'familiar' to him though, rui didn't seem convinced.
over the time your there, his eyes were trying to find you again, wanting to see if he was daydreaming that time but yet every time he sees you, he malfunctions again.
on the other hand, you caught him spying you from afar and whenever he quickly hides, you find it amusing.
he didn't know why he wanted to find out more about you, though you were a random guest, you can be EVERYWHERE!
but, I guess lady luck blessed him after a couple of weeks, he was in front of saki's school, miyamasuzaka, and while waiting, he saw you again! alongside your friends.
his eyes went wide, and my dude just stood there like 🧍‍♂️
once he and saki were back at home, he immediately bombarded her with a lot of questions about you.
"hey, saki, do you perhaps know somebody in your school with (h/c) hair and (uniform style/details about your uniform)?"
"oh, well there a lot of people with (h/c) hair in my school but, with the way you describe certain details uniform, I think you're referring to (last name)-san!"
that's where he learned about you as he watched saki talking about you gleefully, you were an assistant and close friend to the MORE MORE JUMP! members, no wonder why saki seems happier to talk about you to her older brother.
and no wonder he recognized you, he once saw you in shizuku's social media, in which he follows since they are good acquaintance with each other.
he thought about messaging you since shizuku tagged you in that one post. he wanted to formally apologize for weirding you out on that day.
and that's how you basically meet the blonde weirdo yet cutie from the theme park you visited a few weeks ago again. he firstly messaged you by introducing himself before apologizing for his behavior a couple of weeks ago, you honestly find it amusing and adorable. you two chatted with each other all day, and then the next day, and the next day-
after that, he invited you to hangout after school whenever your free, sometimes he brings along saki and toya, since you two bonded within the private messages you two have been sending each other.
honestly, he hasn't moved on from your first encounter, he still acts like a silly idiot around you. tsukasa doesn't even know why like, you're like everyone else, average yet has a certain charm around you making tsukasa even more invested into you.
whenever he's around you, he feels like very different that has him questioning himself about it. like, why does he feel funny around you but not to others? why does he feel the urge to impress you more with his charms and talents? why does he stutter his words out like a fool whenever it's you? WHY DOES HIS HEART YEARNS FOR YOU?!
I feel like he's seen a various of romance theaters, movies, dramas, etc (thanks to saki) so, he caught up with what's happening to him, it went like this;
"I'm in love..." the blonde muttered, finally knowing the reasons why he's acting differently to a certain someone. he had finally solved the mystery of his strange behavior whenever you're around!
"I'M IN LOVE- HAHHHHHHHHHH?!" tsukasa immediately stops himself upon seeing in the corner of his eyes, his troupe members all can be seen in the doorway, spying on their leader while rui was recording it with his signature smug cat-like smile plastered on his face.
in the end, let's just say rui, maybe emu and nene, got their blackmail for tsukasa.
he was quite shy at first but, he warms up since in his thoughts, he NEEDS to impress his crush, aka you, because the only way your crush is gonna notice you and wants to talk to you is to impress them! (tsukasa's words, not mine)
expects him to be a very, very, VERY gentleman towards you such as carrying your things, bringing you little snacks, escorting you to your house to your school along with saki, and many more that I can't possibly list down.
when he heard you were a fan of phenny-kun, he just has to impress you with his voice imitation of phenny-kun, he just had to. I mean, it IS his job, alongside his troupe members, to make people smile. his day brightens up whenever you enjoy his imitation of phenny-kun! doesn't he love you too much?
he probably made a play dedicated to you and have scenarios where you, the main character, and he as the love interest, he's too busy daydreaming he didn't notice that one of rui's inventions is coming straight to him-
he became a simp, your simp to be exact.
doesn't he love you so much? Cross his heart, he'll love you wholeheartedly that's for sure!
Tumblr media
. . .rui kamishiro!
❝ 'Di ko alam ang nangyayari (I don't know what's happening) ❞
he honestly didn't expect himself to be having a crush on somebody, especially when his crush is oblivious foreigner such as yourself.
you were the infamous transfer student he had heard about from the juniors; it was quite obvious due to your appearance alone, so you stick out like a sore thumb. if that wasn't bad enough, you also had a hard time understanding and speaking their language. you usually kept quiet as you feared that you might sound like an idiot when speaking japanese.
so now, picture this, a transfer student from (country) that has a hard time understanding and speaking japanese in a japanese high school, seated next to the well-known troublemaker of kamiyama high, now surely it won't be chaotic? spoilers, it did.
rui honestly finds you amusing, he would chuckle whenever he would ask for something to you, and you would completely give him another thing instead what he asks for.
it was another day in class in this new high school of yours, if the lectures make your head dizzy because it's difficult in understanding the teachers a bit, the purple head boy next to you makes it more difficult.
"psst.. mind letting me borrow your eraser for a moment?" he whispered to you, not wanting to get caught by the teacher. rui watched as you confusedly scanning your desk, trying to understand what he wanted from you.
'okay, he clearly wanted to borrow something... but, what??' you were thinking a bit too hard that the lecture from the teacher is mentally blocked from your head, now focusing on the given task by your seat mate.
"um.. t..t..this?" you tried pronouncing the said word in japanese but, it only sounded broken a bit, all the while showing rui a sharpener.
and that moment, rui kamishiro knew, he'll be going to enjoy this year.
you being shy reminds him a lot about nene but, in your reason, you were afraid of sounding stupid while speaking his country's language. though, he'll give you the benefit of the doubt since you were learning how to speak the language.
he teases you even though you mostly don't understand all he just said, which amused him more while you were determined to learn about the language more to know what rui is saying to you most of the time.
eventually, it was one of your daily routines to have rui tease you every day, even though you don't understand half of it but, hey! you're at least getting better with your japanese.
and with that, rui and your friendship began to develop as time went by, the purplenette introduced his unitmates to you and you were thankful that they introduced themselves in english. p.s rui rambles about you to them.
sometimes rui say english words to help you understand what he or other people are saying. though, if someone was mocking or insulting you, rui wouldn't even try to tell you what they are saying instead, he just guides you away from them by wrapping one of his arms around your shoulder and distracts you, though you had a gut feeling that the person was saying bad stuffs to you, you pick up some of their words and understand soe.
I think rui having a crush will take a long time since he's more on focusing on his inventions and his performances with his unitmates so, catching his attention in you, romantically, it's going to be a long ride. though, if you did, in which is going to happen, congratulations then.
though, he did start to feel whenever your around as the days goes by, and honestly, dude was confused. I feel like he has no grasp of like love and crushes since he's probably more focus on his works and his unit's performances that he doesn't have the time to think about anything else like love.
so yeah, it took him a long time to solve this difficult equation on why he feels weird whenever you are around/mentioned. he doesn't know what's happening to him.
with that, he went to nene and intentionally drop a topic like "what if somebody feels weird whenever somebody's around them, like something's making your heart beats faster?" and nene just look at him with a blank expression of hers, already knowing what's up with her childhood (best) friend however, she won't say it just for fun.
even with his newfound feelings, he acted the same but, once you come closer to his chest area where his heart is at, you'll hear his heartbeat. his teasing is still the same though he increased it to the max, anything for you<3
within school/lunch breaks, he'll teach you japanese words and how you pronounce them while you teach him english/(native language) words and how you pronounce it. though, that doesn't mean he'll stop teasing you just because him and you are teaching each other different languages, from time to time, he says to you compliments in japanese and when you try to pronounce it, his smug cat-like smile widens even more.
but, he'll only get scolded by you after you search about the phrases back at home, he'll do it again and again even if he's going to get scolded by you and he'll probably get the silent treatment by you<3
although jokes asides, he'll calm you down whenever you're feeling really anxious about speaking japanese, especially in front of the class whenever a teacher calls you out for recitation. he's one good listener and advice giver, so any problems you have, please go to him and he'll make it better, especially for you.
fast forward to summer holidays and school was ending, with all the moments and days you've spent with rui, you finally made a decision, something you'll feel embarrassed about but, hey! rui someone that is dear to you. as rui finished packing
up his things and mostly every one of your classmates were outside now, you approach rui very differently unlike the way you've approached him before this.
"rui.." you muttered out, loud enough for the said person to hear and make his head turn towards you.
"hmm, yes?" his eyes went immediately towards you, seeing a letter in your hands, your gaze shyer than ever, and some sort of red tint in your cheeks.
"I.. uhm.. I.." you stuttered out, trying to find the words you wanted to say to him. rui, noticing it, gives you a pat on the head as a sign of encouragement as what he always did to you whenever you feel nervous/anxious.
eventually, you finally did as what you have planned the day before, "I.. just want-ted.. togiveyouthis..!" you quickly finished yourself, saying it all in japanese, while handing the letter to him before quickly rushing out, leaving rui with a dumbfounded with a letter in his hand.
the mad sciencetist, I mean, the purplenette boy stared at the letter the rest of the time as he walks home, wondering what you wrote in this. though once he had opened and read it, he lets out a smile, not his usual smug cat-like smile but, a genuine and gleeful smile.
with his heart beating crazily as he only thought about what you wrote in that letter, his thoughts filled to the brim with you, he honestly doesn't know what's happening right now.
Tumblr media
WRITER'S END IN BEING DELULU!
Apologies for the long wait! school just recently started and this january I'm filled to the brim with projects and performance task >︿<!
and also, I had writer's block with rui's section though special thanks to one of my lomls @liqis-postoffice for the ideas &lt;3
Tumblr media
rules! + masterlist!
390 notes · View notes
drivestraight · 5 months
Note
☕️ norstappen
preemptively making a cut because i know i'm going to write an embarrassingly long treatise
first of all... i said this earlier this morning but literally baby's first f1 ship... let's go on a norstappen journey.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
from 2020... my gamer boyfriends
Tumblr media
the infamous call of duty stream where max fell down the hole lkdjf;lkdsajf. also lando who used to be a part of redline before the red bull association (before max was even part of it!), lando who spontaneously joined the imola stream, because he could. because he's just. red bull adjacent tbh. thinking about all the times last year red bull congratulated lando on his podiums. max's team personally congratulating him. like they're close close.
also. that one time in 2020 when lando was calling a bunch of drivers and max was one of the only ones who picked up (thinking about carlos not having lando's number saved and asking who it was) 💔
youtube
lando who gets along with baby P... max's FAMILY.
Tumblr media
and like. this. the fact that lando's only 2 years younger than max but they looked like. This.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
and the way that! lando has always been a max defender:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
like they're friends friends. real friends.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
and then whole you should see us in monaco. WHAT GOES DOWN IN MONACO??? COME ONNNNN
Tumblr media Tumblr media
little gay boy with his hands over little lando norris...
it endears me how at the start of 2021 lando was always pretty vague about max vs. lewis because #british. but then by the end of the year he was fully like. yeah go max!!! thinking about how before dando got close they both clearly liked max more than each other...
and we can never forget. Congrats World Champ. I got you, don't cry:
Tumblr media
and lando who genuinely goes out with max outside of races.
Tumblr media
also their shared wag martin garrix.
Tumblr media
and their??? shared matching necklaces with KYGO?
Tumblr media
it's so deeply funny to me how these two are like. in the DJ-in crowd. genuinely deep in it.
like they just share so many friends and genuinely seem to really like and support each other. max who literally looks the happiest on the podium when lando is there. we cannot forget how happy max was last summer when lando was literally always on the podium with him. the little jokes about the broken trophy, the british grand prix, how happy he was that lando was there with him, lando's surprise front row at the spanish GP, max doing a double take.
Tumblr media
lando is literally max's favorite driver it kills me. lando wishing max a happy bday on instagram, because they're close like that. max who called lando his best friend on the grid and lando getting all snappy about it dj;lfjsa kills me. the whole: "friends again?" "we're always friends."
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
max and max and lando. Always Very important.
they're party friends. they lied about it being fewtrell's birthday so they can embarrass him with cake. they're grid friends. max genuinely believes that lando can win a world title, that lando's one of the best drivers on the grid ("28 race wins between us today" "i have to stock up before you start stealing them from me!"). they have such similar humors.
anyway. i think they really like each other.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
315 notes · View notes
wannaeatramyeon · 10 months
Text
Jake Kim x Reader: Jealous
G/N. Silly + fluffy. Spawned from chatting with @steamedeggs, as always.
Tumblr media
"Who's that?"
Jake follows your eye line.
"Samuel Seo," He tells you with a sigh. Whether that's a result of their meeting on the Pier or something else you can't be sure.
"The famous Samuel Seo," you mutter.
You watch him gracefully fold his limbs into a fancy executive car and lament the shitbox Sinu has left Jake, "Oh damn, he's hot and loaded?"
Jake huffs a small exasperated laugh, curling his arm around your shoulders. "Some would consider him hot and loaded, yes."
You throw your boyfriend a cheeky grin, raking over his form with greedy eyes.
"Obviously not as hot as you, though."
"Obviously."
.
.
Listen, Jake does not lack confidence. Jake is secure. With his appearance, his personality, his finances- no wait, scratch the last one.
Bottom line: Jake is perfectly fine with himself.
Lua has called him egotistical and conceited at times, but that's besides the point. Vivi has commented that he's ugly to his face and he couldn't care less. (All the girls throwing themselves at him in the club certainly showed otherwise.)
Sometimes even you think it is grossly unfair. Jake has won the lottery in the looks and personality department. He is beyond charming, winning hearts wherever he goes. Not even his battle scars dull his shine, adding only a sexy and bad boy air to this giant golden retriever of a man.
Anyway, the point is-
It's hard to phase Jake. It's nigh on impossible for his jealousy to flare up.
Yet.
.
.
"What was that on his neck?"
"Whose?"
"Samuel Seo's."
"You mean his tattoos?"
"Huh, neck tattoos? That's bold."
Jake watches you type in neck tattoos, and if he isn't mistaken, you look impressed.
'What's impressive about neck tattoos?' He wonders, leaning over to look at the designs on your phone.
"You want me to get a neck tattoo?" He angles his head to show off his throat and your phone no longer holds your attention. You're desperate to sink your teeth in. Add your own markings.
"Or what about a face tattoo?" Jake grins, "Tear drop under one eye? Writing on the other cheek? Some big letters? Big Deal?"
Picturing his suggestion, you wrinkle your nose. "Definitely not-"
"'Cos I guess these aren't enough for you, huh?"Jake raises an eyebrow, one corner of his lips pulled up and flexing his biceps.
It's obnoxious but goddamn this man. Enough of his charm shines through that it's sexy, a touch silly, and a lot endearing.
.
.
"Does your friend actually need glasses?"
Jake mentally flips through the list of people he knows. Friend? With glasses? "Samuel?"
You nod.
"Probably. Not sure. He never wore them in Big Deal."
"So they're just for show? He's a poser?"
Jake chuckles at your words and shrugs.
"Hmm," you tap your chin, "It does make him look smart-"
"Samuel is smart."
"-and sophisticated. You want a pair?"
"C’mon," Jake looks at you with mock hurt and clutching his heart, "I already am smart and sophisticated."
"Sure you are."
"And I look it!"
"Absolutely."
"Hey!"
.
.
“You’re pretty tall, right?”
Jake blinks, because what a question. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes, except maybe professional basketball players.
“...Yes.”
“And Samuel is the same height as you?”
“I think so?”
“Huh.”
“What do you mean huh?”
“Nothing. Just… huh.” You begin to walk away but Jake grabs onto your arm and yanks you back. You fall into his chest with an ‘oof’.
“I’m not tall enough for you?”
“7ft might be nice. Maybe 8ft. Why not double digits. 10ft!”
“Yeah,” he laughs and rolls his eyes, “I’ll get right on that.”
.
.
Jake is sulky and pouty.
He knows you’re teasing. Messing around, playing. Hell, he teases you enough. 
Despite this. He is sulky and he is pouty.
"Jake..." you plop yourself into his lap, "You know I'm only joking right?"
He gives you a sidelong glance even as he angles his cheek for a kiss.
"I think you're the best," You give him a smooch. "Your tattoos are hot," Another smooch. "You're very smart."
"And sophisticated," he grumbles, though he makes no attempt to hide the smile creeping over his face.
"The most sophisticated!" You kiss him loudly on the lips this time. "You should teach people how to be as sophisticated as you are. Charge them a billion won each to listen to you talk about sophistication. And you’re the tallest. A giant. The biggest man to have ever existed. I don’t know how you fit that massive head through doors,” You squeeze his shoulders, “How do you even get this huge body in a building.”
Jake bursts into laughter at your ridiculousness. 
“I even love your awful death-trap that you call a car. With no air conditioning and no airbags and seatbelts that jam when they shouldn’t."
Jake clicks his tongue at you, "Now I know you're lying. Even I hate that stupid car. And it’s not mine."
“Ok,” you give in, “I do hate it.”
Jake’s face turns soft and tender. He pulls you close, until your foreheads are touching and you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. “I think you’re the best and hot and smart and sophisticated. You’re not that tall and you don’t have a car... But you are mine though.”
“Yeah,” you agree, melting into his arms, feeling his heart beating in time with your own. “I am yours.”
629 notes · View notes