#my wednesday morning was ruined

[gojoidyll]

i was not ready for jjk 236 leaks

[dredshirtroberts]

hey. hey universe. hey fucker universe.

no one said you could bring back the Wednesday Curse, bitch. fuck off with this shit i didn't need any of this first thing today.

[celiastjamesoscar]

Exile

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: you and Wednesday were best friends when you were kids, but after Nero’s death, she became cold and distant, and your former friendship turned into a rivalry. Ten years after your friendship ended, unusual circumstances force you two back together.

Trope: childhood friends to enemies to lovers

Warnings: small violent at beginning, angst, death of Nero. Let me know if I missed any!

My Masterlist

Word Count: 12.3K (what’s a word count?)

The sound of children laughing rang throughout the woods on a crisp fall morning. The trees were beautiful vibrant colors that painted the landscape with shades of fiery red, golden yellow, and earthly orange. The crisp air that one could taste in their lungs carried a gentle rustling of fallen leaves while the scent of decaying foliage filled the atmosphere. The ground was adorned with a carpet of fallen leaves that created a soft crunch when the two children ran through the serene woodland.

Even though one child chased the other with a small ax, the two had the same fun. The one with the ax was a taller girl with jet-black twin braids who wore all-black clothing, expert for her white collar shirt. She wore a giant smile on her face as she chased her best friend, Y/N.

You were shorter than Wednesday but had just as much fire in you as Wednesday did. Where Wednesday’s eyes were as black as night, you had a gray and green eye that you used to hide behind sunglasses until Wednesday told you they were the most beautiful things in the world, “You shouldn’t hide what separates you from others, Y/N. Especially if it makes you all the more beautiful.”

You wore brighter colors than Wednesday, but you both shared a love for darkness. You were nothing without Wednesday, just as Wednesday was nothing without you.

The two made an odd pair, but one was never seen without the other. There were times when Morticia had to pry her daughter away from you to find that you had snuck back over sometime in the moonlight. Whenever Wednesday would practice her cello, she would invite you to play the piano, and together you two would create the most heavenly sound that would make angels cry. The contrast was there, but they fit together like puzzle pieces.

As they ran through the woods, you tripped on a small branch and fell to the ground, causing worry to overtake Wednesday as she sprinted to the fallen girl. “Are you alright, Y/N?” Wednesday asked as she knelt beside her friend, but her worry quickly disappeared when you sprang up and tackled her to the ground. You removed the ax from the taller girl’s grasp and held it to her neck. “I appear to be the victor,” you said with a giant smile contrasting Wednesday’s grim expression.

Wednesday leaned up and shoved you off her as she stood up and brushed herself off. “That’s hardly a win; you cheated,” Wednesday replied dryly as she helped you off the ground.

“I might have cheated, but you’re still the loser,” you shot back while standing up. You lived for the playful banter with Wednesday and would rather lose your tongue than go without annoying Wednesday for a day. You handed Wednesday the ax back so she could be the Hunter again, and she placed it in its holster on her hip.

As you two were getting ready to start a new game, a voice rattled the trees around you, “Wednesday! Y/N! Time to come home!” The two shared a look and rolled their eyes simultaneously; they both hated it when Morticia ruined their fun, but they started their walk back to the house nonetheless.

As they walked, Wednesday felt bold and pulled you into a headlock and brought the smaller girl’s head against her ribcage. You didn’t even have time to protest before you felt Wednesday’s knuckles dig into your scalp. You squirmed against Wednesday’s hold, but it was useless; the taller girl was stronger than you. So, you did what any sane person would do; you bit down on Wednesday’s forearm that was keeping you in place. Not enough to hurt the assailant, but just enough to let go of you. And just as you predicted, Wednesday let go of you and grabbed the area that the smaller girl just bit. “Why did you do that?” Wednesday questioned as she rubbed her arm back and forth.

“Uh, because I can?” You retorted as you motioned with her hand, giving Wednesday an attitude that the other girl scoffed at. “Let us go, my compact companion; we have tasks at hand,” Wednesday said as she grabbed your hand, and the two ran back to the Addams’ residence together.

“You have to stop calling me that,” you whined. Wednesday had her collection of names to call you, and the shorter girl hated them.

“It’s not my fault you’re shorter than me; blame your genetics,” Wednesday replied with a dry tone but a slight smile that caused you to smile once you saw it. Wednesday never smiled at anyone except you; Wednesday made a lot of exceptions for the more petite girl, even though she would never admit it.

When they arrived at the mansion, both girls were out of breath as Morticia came outside to greet them. “Hello, my little doves. Did you two enjoy the hunt?” Wednesday’s mother asked them as they went inside and took off their shoes.

“Yes, Mrs. Addams, I always have fun with Wens. She’s the best,” you breathlessly replied as you followed Wednesday up to her room.

Morticia was always fond of you; she loved how her morbid daughter seemed to light up when she was around you, and she knew that her daughter could always rely on and trust you. But all great things must come to an end.

Wednesday held her bedroom door open for you as they entered. The room was dark and cold, but it had character, like Wednesday. There were two giant windows that Wednesday always kept covered on the opposite wall of the door. There were collections of knives hung up on the walls, and the shelves were littered with bookshelves, and in the corner of the room was a cello right next to Y/N’s piano. A small fireplace was built into the wall and had a black, round table in front of it that sat only two. A black bed was in the center of the room with its headboard against the wall, and at the end of the bed was a small bed bench that was purple, Y/N’s favorite color. Above Wednesday’s bed were two swords mounted onto the ceiling; one had a black handle with the purple initials of W.A. etched into the ricasso, while the other had a purple handle with your initials engraved in black. You found the swords a bit odd, but according to Wednesday, it made her feel like Damocles.

You messed with the record player beside the fireplace and put on your favorite record. Soon, the upbeat saxophone of ‘Bop’ by Dan Seals filled the room. Wednesday rolled her eyes when she saw you recreate John Travolta’s ‘Twist’ dance from Pulp Fiction.

I want to bop with you, baby, all night long

I want to be-bop with you, baby, till the break of dawn

I want to bop with you, baby, all night long

“Come on, Wens. You know you wanna dance with me,” You said as you started making the swimming motion from the dance. Finding that she could never say no to Y/N, Wednesday rolled her eyes again before copying Uma Thurman’s dance to match you. When Wednesday did the snorkel dance move, you laughed at the taller girl’s awkwardness, and Wednesday smiled at the thought of making you laugh.

Out of breath, the two finished the dance, and they both had giant smiles as their eyes copied their lips. “Shall we dance again, my fair lady?” You asked as she stuck out your hand and slightly bowed.

“You’re exhausting,” Wednesday stated but took your hand and allowed the girl to spin her.

Twenty minutes had passed when the clock on the fireplace dinged, telling Wednesday it was time to walk Nero. “It’s time for me to walk Nero, but I will see you when I get back,” Wednesday stated as she moved toward the area that was reserved for Nero and got him out of his cage, and put him on his leash.

The three walked down the front door together and left the house together. “See you in a minute,” you said as you walked away from Wednesday. The taller girl sent you a small wave as she walked toward town with Nero.

You arrived home and did what you usually did when Wednesday was away; you waited. You knew Wednesday’s schedule to the tee: wake up at six, morning torture with Pugsley at six-thirty, breakfast at seven-thirty, play with Y/N at eight until her walk with Nero at ten-thirty, come back at eleven and practice her cello with Y/N until twelve-thirty and have lunch at twelve-thirty five. The hours between one and three were filled with any ‘spontaneous activities’ Wednesday might want to do, and at four, she read until five, had dinner at six, and did nightly torturing with Pugsley (or Y/N if you consented) at six-thirty until bedtime at eight-thirty.

So when you checked the clock and saw it was ten-thirty-five, you left her house and skipped to Wednesday’s. As you approached the house, there was a sudden shift in the air, and you could taste it on your lips: death had arrived. You cautiously walked up the stairs and knocked on the door, something you never did. You were always around Wednesday so much that Morticia told you that you didn’t need to knock anymore as she could ‘sense’ the girl’s presence.

When the door opened, you knew that something had happened; you just hoped that Wednesday was okay. Gomez was standing before you with a grim expression as he ushered you in. Your eyes landed on a weeping Wednesday, and your heart broke. You moved to sit next to the goth girl and opened your arms, and Wednesday immediately hugged you and buried her face in the crook of your neck. You rubbed her best friend’s back as she continued crying; you didn’t know what to do, but you only knew that you wanted to be with Wednesday.

The following day, Wednesday had a funeral for Nero, and no one but Y/N could attend. The two girls shed a tear as they both placed a flower on his grave, and you comforted Wednesday once more. Later that night, in Wednesday’s room, Wednesday had allowed you to sleep in bed with her. The two girls were cuddled together, staring at the swords above them, when Wednesday broke the silence, “You are far too dear to me, Y/N. The pain I have felt the past two days is something I never want to experience again, and I certainly do not wish to experience it all over again because of you.”

“Don’t worry, Wednesday. You’re stuck with me till life do us part,” you replied as you hugged your best friend, never wanting to lose the girl.

At just six years old, Wednesday had lost her beloved pet and experienced grief for the first time, and she knew that she would have to grieve every single person in her life at some point. So that night, she made a vow; never to be close enough to someone where she would shed a tear because of their death, and that meant letting go of who she loved most: Y/N.

At first, it was very subtle: Wednesday would smile less around you, and she would spend less time working with you on your music. It was so subtle that no one but you noticed, and it hurt you. Then, more significant things began to happen; Wednesday would purposely fill her schedule with things to do that didn’t involve you, and when you two did hang out, she made sure to try and distance herself from you. And then it all came crashing down on Wednesday’s seventh birthday.

You had a small box in your hand as you walked up the steps to the front door of the Addams mansion and knocked, patiently waiting for someone to open the door. Only a few seconds had passed before Morticia opened the door and towered over the small child. “Hello, my darling. Wednesday is in the greenhouse,” Morticia said as she stood aside and let you into the house before shutting the door.

“Thank you, Mrs. Addams. I haven’t seen her in a couple of days, so I hope she won’t be angry,” you innocently said as you ignored the pain in her heart that Morticia seemed to pick up on.

Eager to change the subject in fear of you becoming sad, Morticia asked as she led you to the greenhouse, “I’ve already told you that you can stop calling me ‘Mrs. Addams,’ My child, so why do you continue?”

You shrugged your shoulders at the comment. You didn’t know why you still spoke to the woman in a formal tone, but it felt weird on your tongue to call her anything else. “I don’t know, I think it’s a respect thing for me,” you replied as you opened the door to the greenhouse. Morticia nodded at the child’s words before whispering, “Have fun with my little death trap.”

You smiled at Morticia’s words as you entered the greenhouse. You knew precisely where Wednesday would be and didn’t pretend to look for the goth girl.

Wednesday was cutting black roses from their stem when she heard soft footsteps behind her. She didn’t bother turning around; she could recognize those footsteps in the crowd of a thousand people. “What are you doing here, YN?” Wednesday asked in a dry tone that caused you to stiffen.

“It’s your birthday, and I wanted to give you something,” you said as you approached Wednesday and set the box next to her. “I know you love your birthday, as it is one more year closer to your death, so here’s your present to celebrate.”

Wednesday gave the more petite girl a suspicious look before putting down the rose and scissors and picking up the box. It was unnaturally light, so she doubted it was a weapon or bomb. She slowly took the lid off the box, and any words died on the tip of her tongue once she realized what it was.

It was a small, black, crocheted scorpion that took you hours to make. She also saw a small note underneath the scorpion, but she didn’t pick it up as her vision became red.

She didn’t know why she was angry. All Wednesday knew was that she wanted you gone. “Get out,” Wednesday hissed as she set the box down and grabbed a knife from her boot.

“What? Why?” You asked as you slowly backed up from Wednesday as your eyes fell on the knife. Of course, Wednesday would make the occasional threats, but you had never believed them; until now.

“Friends are nothing but liabilities, and they only hold me back. So. Get. Out.” Wednesday repeated as she backed you against a small flower pot. She no longer had control over her emotions, and every second she spent with you only seemed to anger her more.

“Wednesday, please. I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought you would have liked the gift. Please, I’m your best friend, and I-” Any words you were about to say got caught in your throat as Wednesday brought the knife up, cutting a straight line on your left eye. The cut was three inches below your eye and an inch above it.

The two stood there in disbelief as neither could believe what happened. Only when blood started pouring out of your cut, and you collapsed onto the floor did Wednesday do something; she called out for her mother’s help for the first and only time as she held you in her eyes, trying her best to fight back tears.

Morticia ran out to the greenhouse and instantly scooped you into her arms as she yelled for Gomez. The man came burling down the stairs and could not contain his tears as she saw your blood-covered state.

The couple quickly rushed you to the hospital, and once you were checked into the ER, the couple notified your parents. They arrived within ten minutes of the phone call, and they were everything but calm, from questioning how Morticia and Gomez allowed this to happen to demanding that Wednesday be punished.

The two sets of parents seemed to be at each other’s throats while Wednesday tried her best to disappear. She felt nothing but guilt for hurting her Y/N, and she wanted to do everything possible to make it up to the girl. So when Wednesday got her chance to see you, she practically sprinted into your room.

You were lying in a hospital with the entire left side of your face bandaged up, and Wednesday could see some blood seeping through. Wednesday slowly approached the bed and gently grabbed your hand. As if repulsed by the touch, you quickly pulled your hand away from Wednesday’s and brought it to your chest. You glared at Wednesday with your right eye before hissing, “Get out.”

“No, Y/N, you don’t understand-” Wednesday started but was quickly cut off by Y/N.

“I’m nothing but a liability to you, Wednesday, so leave,” you said as you crossed your arms and looked away from Wednesday, refusing to cry in front of the taller girl. ‘I think I’ll miss you forever; like the stars miss the sun in the morning skies,’ you thought as you watched your best friend leave.

Wednesday nodded her head and slowly walked to the door, and turned to face you one last time. “Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere.”

You were once her crown, and now she was in exile seeing you out. She gave you so many warning signs, but you never learned to read her mind.

When she left the hospital, she felt nothing but shame and guilt that filled her body the entire car ride back home. She cleaned the blood off the floor before going to her room, where she sobbed for the second and last time.

School was different after that happened; the former best friends refused to meet each other’s gaze and soon found that their previous partnership turned into rivalry, constantly competing to be number one. It was an unfair competition, as Wednesday was more naturally gifted than you, and she seemed to beat you at everything, but you refused to give you. You would spend hours perfecting your craft, and when it came time for the archery competition, you beat Wednesday by a single point. Any chance for friendship was ruined when you accepted the first-place trophy and sent Wednesday an evil glare when she was awarded her second-place trophy.

Their rivalry continued like this for numerous years, always for captain for a particular activity or number one in their grade, but just as before, you always seemed to fall short. It continued for three years until you suddenly stopped showing up for school.

Wednesday believed that she had beaten you so far into the ground that you decided to stop coming to school. But after two weeks had passed and Wednesday had not seen her former best friend, she became curious and decided to stop by your house.

Only when Wednesday saw the ‘for sale’ sign in your yard, she allowed herself to be swallowed by guilt. She had pushed you too far in their competition for first and had made you move. Wednesday realized that she might never see her Y/N again, and regret flooded her mind as she slept on the purple bed bench with your sword in her arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think we are getting a new student today, and I'm totes excited!” Enid exclaimed as she skipped to Wednesday’s side of the room. The last person to arrive at Nevermore Academy was Wednesday herself, so naturally, Enid was ecstatic to meet someone new.

“You know I do not care for new faces who share the same boring personalities as everyone else here,” Wednesday mumbled while she typed on her type-writer.

Enid huffed at Wednesday’s remark before glancing at her roommate’s work. Wednesday noticed the action and quickly sent an elbow into Enid’s side, causing the girl to groan in pain. “You also know I hate it when you try to read my work. I have no idea why you keep trying to read anything; you know the result,” Wednesday stated as she continued typing.

“Whatever. Just humor me for a moment,” Enid said as she put some space between her and Wednesday, avoiding any elbows that might be sent her way. “I will not humor you but continue.”

“So, from what my sources tell me, she’s from Italy, not like the normal part of Italy, but the mob part!” Enid informed while using her hands to talk.

“Enid, just because someone is from Sicily doesn’t mean they are in the mob. And if she is, I would like to interrogate her about it; it could add a new element to my novel,” Wednesday said.

The brighter girl walked to her side of the room and grabbed her phone. When she picked it up, she made an obnoxious sound before sprinting to Wednesday. “She’s here Wednesday. You have to come and meet her!” Enid exclaimed as she lightly pulled on Wednesday’s arm, causing her to receive a death glare, but she allowed herself to be drawn from her seat.

The two quickly walked down the stairs and arrived at Weems’ office. “Why are we standing creepily outside Weems’ office?” Wednesday questioned as she glanced over her shoulder at her roommate.

“Because, silly, she’s in there talking to Weems right now, and when she comes out, I want to be the first to greet her. And I’ve already volunteered to give her a tour of the grounds,” Enid exclaimed in a hushed tone as if the stranger and Weems were pressed against the door, spying on their conversion.

“And what will I do? I am certainly not talking to another half-brain student,” Wednesday said dryly as she stared at the door.

Enid rolled her eyes at the goth girl’s statement; she had made Wednesday talk to someone new only once to find out that the person only talked about horses and the patriarchy. “You can glare uncomfortably on the sidelines then,” Enid replied.

Wednesday was getting ready to retort when she heard shuffling from behind the door and soft-spoken words that she could not make out.

“Howdie, friend! I’m Enid, and I’ll be giving you the tour!” Enid enthusiastically said as she attacked the girl with a hug.

All the air from Wednesday’s lungs had been sucked out as she stared at the stranger before her. She prayed to the old gods and new that this wasn’t some evil joke, her punishment for raising the dead. But when she saw the stranger smile, she knew this was her Y/N.

You stood before Wednesday with a human highlighter wrapped around your waist. You were wearing black slacks with a black button-up, and Wednesday felt a heart pick up as she admired you in her color. Where you once had chubby cheeks, they were now thinned out, and you had a jawline that could cut glass. You were once a short and stocky kid, but now you towered over Enid, and your muscular arms wrapped around the rainbow girl. It seemed like everything about you had changed, but nothing at all as well. You still had that bright smile and charming personality, as always, but Wednesday’s heart sank when she saw the scar on your eye. It took her a moment to notice it as you wore black sunglasses hiding your beautiful heterochromia.

“Ah, good, you’re already here, Enid, to give Miss Y/L/N a tour, and you’ve brought Miss Addams as well,” Weems said as she stepped out of her room and stood next to Enid and you. Wednesday nearly melted onto the floor when she saw you pull back from Enid and stand up straight, just a few inches shorter than Weems. She noticed how your smile faltered at the mention of ‘Addams’ before you played it off and plastered a fake smile on your lips. The air that was once filled with playful curiosity was one of tension, anger, betrayal, and longing.

“Addams,” you said with no emotion in a thick Italian accent as you extended your large and callused hand toward Wednesday that engulfed the goth girl’s small and cold hand. When your hands touched for the first time in ten years since the hospital, you both felt an electric charge pass between you two, and time seemed to stand still for a moment while the rest of the world disappeared around them.

Your covered eyes locked with Wednesday’s, and you both knew you felt an undeniable spark that sent shivers down your spines. Unspoken words seemed to flow between their fingertips as if their souls were communicating through the simple touch. They both felt the unexplainable and undeniable chemistry rushing back and flooding their minds as they looked at each other for the first time in seven years.

“Y/L/N,” Wednesday replied as she eagerly dropped your hand and wiped her palm on her pants as if it would erase the spark she felt.

Enid and Weems both shared a look as they watched the awkward encounter between the two girls, clearly displaying that they have a history between them. Enid cleared her throat as she stepped between you and Wednesday, “alrighty then, shall we get started with our tour?”

Your mood switched on a dime, and you instantly beamed at Enid’s words. You smiled down at the girl and locked your elbow with hers, and rested your hand gently on her arm, “Of course, my dear, let us begin our journey.” Wednesday pulled her eyes at your remark but walked a few paces behind you and her roommate; she knew this would be the start of a very unfortunate friendship.

“Welcome to the quad,” Enid said as she unlocked your arms and motioned around with her hands. “It’s a pentagon,” you replied as you looked at your surroundings.

Enid rolled her eyes at your comment; great, now she’d have to deal with two Wednesdays as if one wasn’t enough. “You know, Wednesday said the same thing when she first arrived too. I have a feeling you two will be the best of friends!” Enid stated in a cheerful tone after releasing that her roommate can have more than one friend.

“No,” the formal best friends said simultaneously and sent each other a glare, and if Enid picked up on it, you were glad she didn’t say anything.

“Allow me to give you a rundown on the social scene here at Nevermore,” Enid said as she walked around the ‘quad.’ “There are many flavors of outcasts here, but the four main cliques are Fangs, Furs, Stoners, and Scales,” the brighter girl stated while counting her fingers.

As Enid gave you the tour, you half paid attention out of respect for the girl trying to sell Nevermore to you, but all you could think about was the more petite girl standing a few feet behind you. You could feel her eyes burning holes into your back, but you couldn’t face her again, not after everything you’ve been through. There was once a time when you would have laid down your life for Wednesday; now, you could barely breathe the same air as her without getting angry. You knew it was stupid to hold a grudge for this long, but Wednesday was your first and only love, and you would be damned if you let her see you weak again.

When you finished the tour, Enid took you to your room, which was, unfortunately, in Ophelia Hall. “O-M-G! You’re rooming with Yoko! She is my best friend,” Enid announced before looking over at Wednesday, “well, besides Wens, obviously.”

Your heart sank at the nickname for Wednesday. Only you were allowed to call her Wens when you were children, and she barely let you do that. And now, here she was, allowing someone dressed like unicorn vomit to call her that without so much as an idle threat.

“‘Wens?’” You questioned with an eyebrow raised as you looked between the two roommates. You were glad you started to wear your sunglasses again so that neither girl could see the sadness in your eyes. But Wednesday knew you all too well, and she saw how your posture faltered when Enid called her that, and she saw the barely noticeable frown that tugged at your lips. ‘My name should only ever leave your lips,’ Wednesday wanted to say, but she held her tongue.

“Oh, yeah. That’s my nickname for Wednesday. She told me that no one has ever given her one before, so I decided to give her one,” Enid said as she ushered the two girls back to her room, “Come on, I wanna show you mine and Wednesday’s room.”

At the mention of Wednesday never having a nickname, you dropped your fake smile and looked at Wednesday, who was refusing to meet your gaze. ‘Do I mean that little to you where you would erase even our happiest memories?’ You thought when Wednesday finally looked up at you, and for the first time today, you saw emotion in her dark eyes: regret.

“I love the window,” you said as you entered Enid and Wednesday’s room. You loved the contrast between the two girls and how they seemed to get along perfectly; it reminded you of when you were young and Wednesday’s favorite person. Now, the girl barely looked at you.

“Thanks; the first day here, Wednesday took off her side of color and then put tape down to divide our room. And now look at how far we’ve come! I’m like the only one here who Wens actually cares about!”Enid exclaimed as she spun in her circle with her arms outstretched, clearly happy to be buddy-buddy with Wednesday. You nodded your head, trying to push back the tears that weld in your eyes at the mention of Wednesday caring for someone else before your eyes snapped to something on Wednesday’s wall.

“What’s this?” You questioned as you moved to get a closer look at the object that had caught your attention, causing both of the roommates to follow you.

“Oh, that’s one of Wednesday’s favorite weapons. She doesn’t let anyone touch it, not even me,” Enid said as her eyes fell on the sword mounted to the wall above Wednesday’s writing desk. Your eyes scanned over the sheathed sword and fell to the purple handle before you turned and looked at Wednesday. “May I?” You asked in a barely audible voice.

You expected Wednesday to shoot you down before you even finished speaking, but the girl gave you a curt nod, not trusting her voice at this moment. Your hands reached up and took the sword off its mantle, and you slowly took it out of its sheath and set it down on Wednesday’s desk. You turned the sword over and admired the sharp edge as you carefully ran your pointer finger along the blade’s edge; you could easily tell that Wednesday had been sharpening it routinely. Your finger finally made its way to the helm of the sword, and you turned it over and sucked in air as you let out a small chuckle.

You read your initials that were still engraved in the sword before your saddened eyes finally looked up at Wednesday’s guilt-ridden ones. Wednesday thanks the gods that you had your eyes covered, as she knew her heart would have broken ten times over if she saw the sadness in them.

“Well, then,” you said with a shaky breath as you sheathed the sword and placed it back on its mantle, “it’s a beautiful blade, Wednesday.” Your eyes caught something in the corner of Wednesday’s desk, and you felt every single emotion wash over you like waves crashing onto the shore: a small, black crocheted scorpion sat on top of an unopened note. Before you could comment on it, Wednesday’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“I know it is,” Wednesday spoke honestly as her eyes danced across your face while you picked up on the double meaning behind her words.

After several seconds of awkward tension, you cleared your throat and walked to the door, “Alright then, I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it.”

Wait!” Enid shouted as she skipped over to you with her phone in hand. “Let me get your Snapchat so we can talk some more,” she said as she pulled up Snapchat. You smiled politely as you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and opened up Snapchat, and allowed the werewolf to add you, and you accepted her friend request when it popped up.

“I’ll see you later, Enid,” you said as you opened up the door to walk out, but you stopped and turned around to face Wednesday, “see you around sometime, Addams.” As you left, only one thought ran across both of your minds: ‘I can’t say hello to you and risk another goodbye.’

When you left the room, Enid immediately turned to face her roommate. “What was that about?” She questioned while staring down at the goth girl.

“I have no idea what you are referring to,” Wednesday replied as she walked over to her desk and began working on her novel. She had emotions come back that she had not felt in nearly ten years, and she needed to get them off her chest, writing out different scenarios of her killing Y/N.

Enid stomped to Wednesday’s desk and turned the small girl around in her chair. She grasped Wednesday’s shoulders and tightly gripped them as she spoke, “Yes, you do. Do not lie to me, Wednesday, or I will paint the side of your hot pink.”

The more petite girl rolled her eyes at her roommate’s comment before prying the hands off her shoulders and returning to her typewriter. “We used to be friends, and now we aren’t; end of story,” Wednesday flatly replied.

“I don’t believe you, I know there’s more to the story, but I won’t pressure you,” Enid defeatedly said as she walked over to her bed and lay down. Of course, she was dying to know the history between you and Wednesday. Still, she would never force Wednesday to talk about something uncomfortable, so she decided to wait it out and see if she could get an answer from either you or Wednesday first.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two roommates walked into fencing class and heard the ringing of metal crashing together, and saw that Bianca was in a match with you. The two watched as you blocked Bianca’s advances and matched each of her assaults with double the force, causing the siren to walk backward toward the end of the mat. With one final blow against Bianca’s foil, you cause her to step backward off of the mat and ultimately lose the match.

Bianca let out an angry huff at the loss but shook your hand afterward. “You gave me a nice challenge, and I respect that. I hope to go up against you again soon,” the siren said as she walked off the mat.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky next time and beat me,” you joked as you started to take off your gear when your eyes landed on Wednesday. Before you had moved, you and Wednesday were always in fencing competitions, and it seemed that the two of you were always paired to go against one another. Naturally, you lost every time you went against her, but that was seven years ago, and you spent the past seven years perfecting every little thing that Wednesday was better at.

“Coach Vlad, I was wondering if I could go against someone else before class ends?” You questioned as you stood up. You knew that if you publicly challenged Wednesday that she couldn’t turn it down, and you also knew that she believed she was still the better fencer, so both of those gave you an advantage.

Coach Vlad studied your expression and determined that you only asked to prove a point, so he let you. “Who will you be challenging, miss Y/LN?”

“Addams,” was all you said as you stared at the girl dressed in an all-black fencing attire. Wednesday’s ears perked up at you challenging her, and she knew she would clear you.

“Very well, Wednesday, if you accept the challenge, stand the opposite of Y/N,” Coach Vlad stated with a hint of excitement. He loved watching the way the Addams sparred with his students; she was graceful yet coarse, which reminded him of when he was a student here at Nevermore.

Wednesday walked over to the mat you were standing on, her eyes locked with your covered ones. She wondered what made you wear those sunglasses again, and she missed those eyes she once called home.

“En garde,” Coach Vlad yelled as the atmosphere crackled with tension. The room falls into a reverent silence as the match begins. With grace and precision, you and Wednesday engage in a mesmerizing dance of footwork and technique, each exchange showcasing your guys' skill and determination.

Their moves were swift and calculated, their attacks and defenses fluid, each striving to gain the upper hand. The crowd of students watched in awe as they witnessed a display of finesse and competitive spirit.

Wednesday made the first aggressive move, launching a series of rapid lunges, attempting to catch you off guard. But you proved your prowess with deft parries, countering with swift ripostes that keep Wednesday on her toes.

As the match progressed, the intensity escalated, and their footwork became even more intricate, seeking to exploit any opening in their opponent's defense. The clang of metal echoed through the hall as their foils met in a series of fierce clashes.

Neither competitor gave an inch, their faces showing steely determination. You and Wednesday are evenly matched, your skills complementing each other, creating a mesmerizing spectacle for the crowd.

With each point you and Wednesday scored, your fellow students held their breaths, afraid that if they cheered, it would mess you two up. Yours and Wednesday’s adrenaline surged, and your focus sharpened, all distractions fading away as you two immersed yourselves entirely in the moment.

Time seemed to slow down, the seconds stretching into eternity as the match neared its climax. With one final burst of energy, you executed a daring feint, catching Wednesday off balance. In that split second, you placed your foot on top of Wednesday’s and advanced, causing the more petite girl to fall backward onto the mat. You stood over her and shoved the tip of the foil into her chest armor.

“I appear to be the victor,” you said as you towered over Wednesday before she quickly jumped up from the ground and stormed out of the hall, with you right on her heels.

“That was hardly a win; you cheated,” Wednesday stated as she stomped toward Ophelia hall. “And stop following me.”

“I might have cheated, but you’re still the loser,” you retorted as you quickened your step to walk beside Wednesday. “And I’m not following you; we live in the same hall.”

Wednesday said nothing; she couldn’t argue with the fact you two shared a hallway, but she still didn’t like it. You watched as Wednesday threw her door open and slammed it shut with a smile on your face; it felt good to have that playful banter back.

Naturally, your rivalry with Wednesday continued as if it had never left; you two constantly competed for the correct answers in your classes, and you two refused to fence with anyone else. It became so toxic that teachers started putting you two out in the hallway during class, like little toddlers who were being disruptive.

“I had a marvelous time ruinin’ everything,” you joked with Wednesday as it seemed you two were sitting outside your potions class once more. You had your back pressed against the stone wall next to the door, and Wednesday opted to sit next to you but kept a few feet between you.

“I do suppose ruining the activities of others is tolerable with you,” Wednesday said as she looked over at your beautiful smile that she once loved and felt her own lips twitch upward.

“I know my antics should be celebrated, but I’m glad you tolerate it,” you said once you saw her scary attempt at a smile.

At the week's end, Enid invited you to her room for some “girl talk.” You had no idea what girl talk would involve, but you wouldn’t pass up a chance to piss Wednesday off.

“Welcome to my dreamhouse!” Enid exclaimed as she opened the door and ushered you into her room. You knew it might be ill-tempered to say this, but you were jealous of Enid’s room. You loved the giant window in the center that emitted different colors throughout the room, highlighting and contrasting the two drastically different sides.

You followed Enid to her side and sat down on her bed with her. You allowed the werewolf to paint your nails a dark purple. She asked you questions about your past and what you wanted to do in the future. You told her that Criminal Justice intrigued you and you thought about becoming a detective at some point. In turn, you asked her what her future plans were, and she told you that if her parents allowed her, she would want to explore the world and see all the beauties she offered.

After you two had fallen into a peaceful conversation, she finally asked the question plaguing her mind since you first arrived, “So, how did you get that scar? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You swore you could hear a hairpin drop right when you felt the moment stop. It was as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room and replaced it with tension. Your eyes shot to Wednesday, who was previously typing on her typewriter but stopped when Enid asked the question. You quietly cleared your throat before speaking, “I, uh… it was my fault. I did something stupid without asking for permission, and I paid the consequences. That’s all.”

Wednesday felt her heart shatter into a million pieces when she heard you blame yourself for what happened. She wanted to run to Enid’s side of the room and tell you that it wasn’t your fault and that she would do anything she could to take it back, to have you back. She felt a single tear run down her cheek as she returned to her novel.

Not believing your story, Enid didn’t say anything else. She knew there was something more to the story, but she didn’t want to pressure you into telling her. “Well, I think it makes you look ten times hotter,” Enid confessed with a sly smile and a wink. She ignored how her hearing picked up on Wednesday’s heartbeat increased with jealousy at the comment.

You slightly chuckled at Enid’s comment before looking at Enid’s own scars that she sometimes tried to cover up. They were out of place on the brightly dressed girl, but it added a hint of toughness and bravery to her look that almost made you laugh. “What about your scars?” You politely asked, but Enid tensed up at your question.

“Oh. I got them from saving Wednesday last year,” she responded quietly as she continued painting your nails. She refused to meet your gaze, and you felt bad for asking about them, but you wanted to know more. “Why do you cover them up then? You shouldn’t be ashamed of your scars; they prove your loyalty to Wednesday.”

A slight grin tugged at Enid’s lips; she had never had anyone, but Wednesday tell her she was brave. “Thank you, Y/N. It’s just,” she paused as she glanced up at you before continuing her work on your hand, “my mother hates them and says I should be ashamed of myself for ruining any chance I have at finding someone.”

“You shouldn’t listen to your mother, Enid. I think those scars are beautiful, and they display your bravery,” you said as you reached up with your hand and gently traced the scar above Enid’s eyebrow. When a small tear fell down Enid’s cheek, you wiped it away and gave her a soft smile, and Enid knew right then that you were the most authentic person she had ever met. No one has ever been this honest with her, and she cherished your friendship.

Enid let a few quiet minutes pass by before she asked you about your first week at Nevermore, and you told her your honest thoughts. You enjoyed the classes but felt that some students cared too much about their social status and that you loved walking in the woods at night, causing the girl to stop painting your left ring finger.

“You do what at night?” Enid questioned harshly as her bright blue eyes stared into your soul.

“I go for midnight strolls by myself. Weems never told me not to.”

Enid scoffed at your words before glaring at Wednesday, who was working on her novel. “Wednesday is actually the reason we can’t walk around at night.”

At the mention of her name, Wednesday straightened her poster and turned around to face you two.

“Do not blame me for the shortcomings of the town sheriff for being unable to keep the people safe from his own son,” the goth girl stated in a threatening manner with an undertone of regret that you picked up on. You noticed the way Wednesday’s eyes seemed to gloss over with anger when she mentioned the sheriff’s son, and you could only assume something happened between them, which caused your heart to stink at the thought.

“I’m not blaming you, Wens. I’m just stating that you and your boy toy did play a part in ruining our time outside at night,” Enid said innocently as she went back to pairing your nails; she didn’t notice how you tensed up, and you're surprised that she didn’t hear your heart break in two. Your heartbroken eyes shoot to Wednesday’s pained ones, and you can practically read the thoughts behind her eyes, ‘I lost myself when I lost you.’

Even though you still had your eyes covered, Wednesday knew what you were thinking, ‘how could you betray me like this?’ You two were children when you last saw each other, but now as almost adults, you knew that all those feelings you felt for each other were more than platonic; it just took you two a lifetime and a half to realize it. As you two stared at each other, you felt all the love you once felt for each other return in an instant; feelings that come back are feelings that never left.

“‘Boy toy?’” You questioned as your eyes refused to leave Wednesday’s. You knew you would only get hurt by asking, but you had to know.

“It was a moment of weakness, Y/N. Nothing more,” Wednesday spoke with emotion for the first time as her voice broke off towards the end. She quickly cleared her throat and excused herself to the balcony with her cello before you had time to respond to her.

When Enid finished up your nails, you two were getting ready to do a face mask when she got a text. “Yes! Ajax just texted me to hang out with him! Is it alright if I leave you here? Or you can go back to your room if you want?” Enid asked as she stood up from her bed; you ignored the name at the top of her screen that read ‘Yoko.’

“I think I’m going to stay here for a while and hang out with Thing but go have fun,” you said with a faint smile as you watched Enid leave. Honestly, you missed Thing almost as much as you missed Wednesday. Anytime Wednesday would be away, and you were over, you would always hang out with Thing, and right now, he was definitely your favorite Addams.

You chatted with Thing over the sound of Wednesday’s cello for nearly twenty minutes as you did his nails and filled him in on what has happened to you in the past seven years. You told him stuff that you would be too afraid to share with Wednesday, not out of trust, but in fear of what she might do to the people that hurt you.

Only when Wednesday’s cello started to pick up and play a heavy melody did you stop talking. You listened to the way the smaller girl seemed to pour all of her emotions into her song, a song that was full of yearning, hurt, and regret. You listened as there was a slight shift in the music that resembled anger and frustration before turning into a declaration of love. And when the song finally ended on a note that sounded like longing, you got up and walked out to the balcony.

“That was a lovely song,” you said as you walked past Wednesday and rested your elbows against the balcony edge.

Wednesday gave you a quiet ‘mhm’ as a response as she set her cello to the side and joined you at the stone railing, making sure to keep five feet between you for homosexual purposes.

The two of you quietly enjoyed the starry night with a crescent moon above you.

“The sky is so beautiful tonight,” you said, gazing at the stars and moon with your sunglasses still on.

“It is,” Wednesday agreed, but she wasn’t looking up at the sky at all.

When you looked down at Wednesday, she was already staring at you with a tiny glint in her eyes. She subconsciously moved closer to you til she was standing a few inches away from you, and she slowly reached her hands up to take your glasses off. You turned to face her, quickly backing away, and put a foot between you two, “the fuck are you doing?”

“Take it off,” Wednesday stated in a dry tone.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because this ‘nerdy girl takes off her glasses and everyone finds out she’s actually really hot’ will not work on you,” you replied with sass in your voice.

“No, it won’t because you are not attractive in the slightest way,” Wednesday retorted while still staring into your soul.

“Thank you, Addams.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“I know,” you said with a smile as you turned and leaned your elbows on the railing once more and continued staring at the stars. “You are my compact companion, after all,” you teased.

Wednesday rolled her eyes at comment; it felt like it was a lifetime again when she would call you that, and now you turned it against her. She had to agree with you, it was an awful nickname.

“All the pretty stars shine for you, my love,” you said after a couple of minutes had passed. “it’s from a song,” you added to clear up any confusion that might have been stirred.

Wednesday looked over at you, but you still had your eyes fixed on the sky, but she noticed how your hand slowly inched toward her own, and she picked up on the double meaning as she placed her palm over the back of your hand. She gave your hand three gentle squeezes before returning inside with her cello.

After that night, you two continued with your rivalry, of course, but something had changed that worried Wednesday. She didn’t know what that change was, but she felt it like a gentle shift in the air before a big storm; she knew something had changed between you two, but she didn’t know what.

On Tuesday of the following week, Nevermore was hosting an archery tournament that lasted all day that you and Wednesday were competing in. As the day dragged out, numerous Nevermore students were booted from the competition, and when it came down to the final two competitors, no one was surprised when they saw you line up next to Wednesday.

“I think I’ve seen this film before,” you said as you grabbed an arrow and notched it before slightly pulling back on the string. The memories of your last archery competition came flooding back as you watched the beautiful girl to the left of you grab an arrow.

“And I didn’t like the ending,” Wednesday finished as she notched her arrow, drew, and let it loose, nailing the target's bullseye. You scoffed at her words before drawing back your arrow and firing, hitting the bullseye a few centimeters away from Wednesday’s.

As the contest continued, you and Wednesday engaged in a back-and-forth display of remarkable archery skills. Each shot was precise, and the competition grew fiercer with every arrow released. The crowd of students that had formed around you two was captivated, witnessing a display of talent that would mold the archery competitions of Nevermore for ages.

As the final round approached, you and Wednesday were neck and neck. The tension was palpable, and the spectators held their breath in anticipation. You looked over your left shoulder at Wednesday as you notched and drew your arrow. The smaller girl’s eyes stared into your covered ones, and you saw the way her eyes danced across your face as if she was trying to place a curse on you.

With a shaky breath, you turned away from Wednesday and looked at your target before you slightly lowered the tip of your bow; it was so unnoticeable that no one picked up on it besides the girl who was soul bound to you.

You let the arrow loose and smiled slightly when you saw it hit the outer ring. Wednesday sent you a slight glance before drawing back on her arrow and letting it fly, nailing it right in the center of the bullseye.

The crowd around them let out a few cheers and applause as Weems got the trophies ready. “I knew you could do it, roomie!” Enid exclaimed as she skipped over to Wednesday and gently shook the girl’s shoulders. Wednesday nodded her head at Enid before she walked onto the makeshift sports pedestal podium for first and second. She stepped onto the stage for first and watched as you stood on the one for second, and you sent her a smile that confirmed everything she needed: you threw the match for her.

When Weems handed you two your trophies, you had a giant smile as people took your picture, while Wednesday bore an uncomfortable expression.

“I appear to be the victor,” Wednesday said as you two walked back to Ophelia Hall together. The sun was just setting, and the light seeped into the hallway, creating a romantic lighting that seemed a bit on the nose for you.

“It appears so,” you replied with a gentle smile as you flipped your trophy around and read the words “2nd place winner” underneath your name.

Wednesday scoffed at your comment before glaring up at your towering figure. “You aren’t going to finish the saying?”

You tapped your pointer finger on your chin, acting as if you were thinking profoundly. “Why would I? You didn’t cheat,” you said honestly and dropped your hand back down to your side.

“No, but you threw the match,” Wednesday said as she approached her door with you a few paces behind her. She wanted nothing more than to bring you inside and cherish you, but she would never stoop to her mother’s way of life.

“If I am capable of such an outlandish thing, I’m sure I would not do that just so you-of all people-could win,” you said with a serious tone but your smile told Wednesday you were joking and it made her cold, black heart ache for something for had felt once and only with you.

Deciding against her better judgment, Wednesday set her trophy on the ground, and before you had time to ask her what she was doing, her left hand gently grabbed your neck and pulled down as she stood on her tippy-toes to place a chaste kiss on your cheek. Your entire body heated up at the contact, and a smile overtook your face. The kiss lasted longer than it should have, as Wednesday’s lips lingered on your cheek as if she was making you a promise that she would one day taste your lips.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Wednesday said as she picked up her trophy and entered her room, closing the door on your shell-shocked expression. You had butterflies dancing in your stomach as you walked back to your room with a gentle smile on your face and went to sleep with the thought of Wednesday’s lips against your skin. As you drifted off to sleep, Wednesday stayed up all night writing out the way you made her stomach feel like a thousand spiders lived there and the way your hair warmed her black heart. She once vowed to push you away to avoid the pain of losing you, but every waking moment she spent without you had caused her to feel that pain tenfold. Even if she would lose you at the end of your lives, at least she would have had the honor of calling you hers.

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The eerie gothic ballroom was cloaked in darkness, dimly lit by flickering candlelight that cast haunting shadows upon the ancient stone walls. Heavy velvet drapes, tinged with a rich deep crimson, adorned the tall arched windows, adding a sense of mystery and opulence. Gothic-style chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings, their twisted metal work resembling gnarled branches, and their candelabras emitting a spectral glow. The air is filled with a subtle scent of incense, adding to the mysterious ambiance of the room as Wednesday prepared to entire the ballroom.

It was the Grimoire Soiree, Nevermore’s official gothic ball, that was hosted at the end of the Fall semester every year. Wednesday was naturally intrigued when she heard of a gothic ball and believed attending one might add a new element to her novel, including murder. Still, now, as she watched her peers walk into the ballroom, she felt out of place. Her heart yearned for the one who wouldn’t be attending.

It had been several months since the archery contest, and you and Wednesday had not talked to each other. Neither of you knew what to say, but you both wanted to say everything. You two continued with your rivalry, but there was a shift in the air when you two competed against each other, like you two were silently rooting for the other, and it gnawed at both of your hearts.

Deciding to face the music and the calling of her heart, Wednesday walked down the stairs and entered the room.

The polished black marble floors, etched with intricate patterns, mirror the gloomy setting as if reflecting the dark secrets concealed within the ballroom's history that enticed Wednesday. Elaborate gargoyles and stone statues of long-forgotten figures stood sentinel in the corners, their solemn expressions lending an air of solemnity to the space. Crimson roses, tinged with black, were carefully arranged in vases throughout the room, their haunting beauty contrasting with the darkness surrounding them.

As the haunting melody of a haunting organ filled the air, the students of Nevermore were clad in elaborate gothic attire and moved with an aura of elegance and enigma. The atmosphere was both haunting and enchanting, transporting the attendees to a realm of forgotten tales and otherworldly delights that overwhelmed Wednesday. Just as she was about to leave, an overly happy voice exclaimed, “Wednesday! You look amazing!”

The smaller girl wore a mesmerizing black gothic ball gown that is a sight of dark enchantment, featuring a flowing skirt that gracefully grazes the ground. Small black accents on the skirt add a touch of intricate detailing, enhancing its allure. The black corset, elegantly laced in the front, complements the gown's bewitching aesthetic and leads to long, puffy sleeves that exude an air of Victorian charm.

A small cutout on the chest, just above the corset, added a daring yet sophisticated touch, leaving a hint of mystery while maintaining an elegant appeal. The gown encapsulated a perfect blend of gothic elegance and captivating allure, making it an ideal choice for Wednesday's hauntingly beautiful ballroom event.

Wednesday turned around, and she noticed that her flamboyant roommate, who usually wore bright, borderline blinding colors, was in a darker-colored ball gown. The ball gown itself was a mesmerizing creation, enveloped in an enchanting dark purple hue that exudes an air of mystery and sophistication. It had a black corset adorned with dark purple accents that added an element of striking contrast, enhancing its captivating allure. Its intricate lacework and velvet accents add an extra layer of elegance. At the same time, its flowing silhouette gracefully captures the essence of gothic charm, something that Wednesday had never seen on Enid before.

The gown caught Wednesday off guard, and she believed that Enid somehow pulled it off, highlighting her piercing blue eyes that would blind anyone. Wednesday might have even given Enid some form of a compliment, but she knew that Enid didn’t need that kind of ego inflation.

“I appreciate your words, Enid. And you,” Wednesday wanted to be nice tonight but struggled with the words, “Do not look ridiculous.”

The werewolf beamed at her roommate's words, and a smile formed from cheek to cheek. “Awww! Thank you, Wens!” Enid said as she turned to walk toward Ajax but then suddenly turned back to Wednesday as if she had forgotten something. “Oh, and your lover was looking for you earlier; she said she has something to tell you.” And with that, Enid disappeared into the crowd of dancing students with Ajax. Wednesday’s cold heart picked up at the mention of you wanting to talk to her and beat rapidly against her chest. Her eyes scanned the room for you as an all too familiar saxophone interrupted the organ.

As if it was magic, Wednesday’s dark eyes immediately found your heterochromia ones in the vast sea of swirling gowns and powdered faces. You were standing on the opposite side of the room, wearing a gothic suit that consisted of a slightly ruffled white shirt, adding a touch of romanticism to the ensemble. Over the shirt, there was a black cavalier vest adorned with mesmerizing purple tapestry, creating a captivating contrast of colors and textures. Completing the look was a sleek black jacket, lending an air of sophistication and dark allure. The suit is further enhanced by a small yet elegant collar chain featuring a black scorpion on both collars, adding a subtle yet distinctive element of gothic charm to the overall attire.

Put on your Bobbi-sox baby

Pull up your old blue jeans

There’s a band playin’ down at the armory

Know’s what rock and roll really means

You two gravitated towards each other at a slow pace before picking up as your hearts quickened with excitement, and soon, you two were standing face to face. “Hi,” you said breathlessly as you got lost in Wednesday’s eyes.

“Hi,” she replied as she looked into your beautiful eyes for the first time in seven years. She had forgotten just how beautiful they were; the green eye seemed to dance with the room's lighting while the gray one gave Wednesday a feeling of comfort, the dark color reminding her of her own material home in New Jersey.

I want to bop with you baby, all night long

I want to bop the night away

I want to make it a night like it used to be

“May I have this dance?” You asked as you slowly started to do ‘The Twist’ from Pulp Fiction. Wednesday smiled and began doing Uma Thurman’s part of the dance as if you two were just six years old again and dancing in Wednesday’s room. You two smiled and joked the entire dance and felt the whole room disappear as the song drew to a close. “Shall we dance again, my fair lady?” You asked when the dance was finished as you stuck out your hand and slightly bowed, just as you did ten years ago.

“You’re exhausting,” Wednesday replied when the room began waltzing to the beautiful melody of ‘Merry-Go-Round of Life,’ but she took your hand. You placed your free hand just underneath her shoulder blade as her spare hand rested upon the shoulder of the arm that was under her shoulder blade. As the music played, Wednesday allowed you to lead the dance and found herself in a trance as she stared into your beautiful eyes that she missed.

“Stop staring into my soul,” you commented as you spun around with Wednesday.

She huffed at your words and playfully stepped on your foot before continuing the dance. “I’m not staring into your soul; I am just admiring your breathtaking eyes,” she confessed honestly while you two continued your fluid movements. “Why did you start covering them again?”

You tensed up at her words but continued with the graceful dance. “The only person who found beauty in them was gone,” you said shyly as you gave Wednesday a tight-lipped smile. The smaller girl frowned at your words; she didn’t know what to say without confessing her undying love for you. So she stayed quiet and let her eyes drift over to the scar on your face and let regret and pain wash over her like waves on the shoreline. “I never meant to hurt you,” Wednesday mumbled out as she let the pain show on her face. You were her best friend, her soulmate, and her home, and even though she didn’t know that it was either you or no one when she was just a child, she now wanted to wrap you in her arms and never let anything or anyone harm you again; even if that meant protecting you from herself.

So, she dropped your hand while dancing and left you out there standing. Crestfallen on the landing as Wednesday left you in the ballroom and disappeared outside.

You snapped out of your disappointed state and were quick on her heels as you followed her outside. “Wednesday, what’s wrong?” You asked as you followed her to a water fountain and watched her sit down on the side.

She was sick to her stomach; she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she had an internal battle with her heart and brain. Her brain told Wednesday to run in the opposite direction, never to talk to you again. But her heart was telling her to run toward you, to embrace you with her loving heart that seemed to only beat for you. She felt nauseous as her thoughts bounced around; what if you didn’t feel the same way toward her? The last time you two were friendly with each other was almost eleven years ago when you guys were six. What if by showing you this much softer side of her, you reject her and use her weakness as a spear to her chest? Nearly killing her but leaving her alive just enough to continue living a life of nothingness. Your heart was glass, and she dropped it.

But what if you felt the same? What if your heart only beat for her, and you would rather die than not have been able to call her yours? All the moments you two spent at each other’s throats during competitions as you sent her little glances and silently prayed she would win so that you could see her eyes light up.

“Enid said you had something to say to me, Y/N,” Wednesday finally spoke as her thoughts ran rapidly in her mind. She needed to know what you wanted to say to her; she could not die in peace without knowing.

You stared at the alluring girl who refused to meet your eyes. There were thousands of things you wanted to tell her, but you didn’t know how. “Wednesday, there’s things I wanna say to you, but I’ll just let you live,” you said quietly as Wednesday’s eyes finally met yours. Wednesday dryly laughed at your words as her eyes glossed over with tears. The last time she had cried was because she lost you, and now, she was crying because she had finally found you. All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation, was killing her. Wednesday’s hands were shaking from holding back from you. When you said her name, everything just stopped; she didn’t want you like a best friend.

Wednesday’s eyes darted across your face, looking for anything resembling rejection. When she found only love and longing in your ocean eyes, she took in a deep breath and spoke in a broken voice, “I used to look at you and see my best friend, and now I can hardly look at you without picturing our bones resting together in a grave dug for two. I left you in there because I cannot live without knowing if it meant more to you too as well. I would rather die than bear these feelings alone.”

The words that left Wednesday’s lips took you off guard; you had a speech, and now you’re speechless. “What do you mean by that, Wednesday? Are you telling me that you have feelings for me?” You asked with disbelief on your face; you needed to know if she was confessing her love for you, but you weren’t quite sure if that’s what she meant.

“The sun rises and sets with your smile. At least it does for me. You’re the only thing on this planet worth worshipping. In simpler terms: I want you. I’ve always wanted you. It just took me ten years to realize it. I’m your jazz singer, and you’re my cult leader,” Wednesday confessed as she stared into your eyes, already accepting rejection.

“Wednesday, you don’t have to bear those feelings alone,” you stated with a sigh of relief. Wednesday’s eyes smiled for her as she pushed herself off the fountain, and slowly walked toward you. She stopped a few feet in front, giving you space to run away if you desired.

“I once had someone tell me I was destined to be alone, but I would like to be alone with you. If I’m enough - if you want me, if you’ll have me - I’m yours, only yours, Y/N,” Wednesday admitted with a silent prayer.

“Wednesday, I have only wanted you since we were kids. I only wanted you as a best friend then, but now, when I look at you, I only see my other half. I would rather die than not be able to call you mine, even if it’s just for a second.”

Slowly, Wednesday stepped to you until you were close enough to touch, begging you to make the first move she has always been afraid to take. “For the past ten years, I have been trying to form a way to apologize for the way I treated you, but every time I come up with something, I only see you in that hospital bed,” Wednesday admitted.

You gently reached out to Wednesday’s hand and brought it to your cheek. You gave a small kiss on the palm of her hand before moving it to cup your cheek as your free hand wiped away the lone tear that fell down Wednesday’s cheek. “I forgive you, Wednesday. I had forgiven you the moment I moved; I thought I would never see you again,” you whispered with tears in your eyes as you brought your forehead against Wednesday’s.

Wednesday sighed in relief as she brought up her other hand and cupped your cheeks. You pulled back from her, and Wednesday wanted to cry. You placed a kiss on her forehead that felt like a promise, then kissed her nose, silently telling her everything will be alright, another on her cheek that felt like you would wait however long for her, and finally, you kissed her lips with so much love Wednesday almost died. She let a small, choked-up gasp escape her lips before gently kissing you back. For the first time in ten years, you both finally felt at home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A blanket of snow fell upon the Addams’ residence that coated the peaceful house as Morticia Addams shot up in bed. She gasped for breath as her eyes panicky shot around the room.

The action woke Gomez up, and he reached over to the bedside table to turn on the lamp before reaching out to his wife. “Cara mia, what’s wrong?” He asked with worry laced in his voice, but his worry faded when he saw a giant smile plastered on Morticia’s face that accompanied the tears of joy in her eyes.

She wrapped her arms around her husband and pulled him against her, in complete disbelief at the vision she just had of her daughter. She pulled back from the embrace before exclaiming, “Our darling viper has found someone to share her grave with!”

Gomez lit up with excitement at the mention of Wednesday having a lover; words could not express his joy when his daughter finally fell to the Addams Family Curse. “My love, this is dreadful news! I cannot wait to meet them,” he said with a smile on his face.

Morticia laughed at her husband's words before placing a hand on his cheek and stroking it with her thumb. “Don’t worry, Gomez. You have known her since she was a child.”

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AN: if you recognized ‘the sun rises and sets with your smile’ quote, I love you so much 🫶

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When you and Bradley put some pieces of the puzzle together, you realize it was a blessing in disguise that you ran into Meredith. But in the early hours of Wednesday morning, Bradley is hanging on by a thread. How could anyone try to take Noah away from him?

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley strolled out of work with Nat hot on his heels. "She's picking you up?" she asked, clearly surprised by the turn of events over the past few days. When Bradley saw you leaning against the Bronco in the parking lot, Nat gasped. "You let her drive your Bronco?"

"Yeah, I trust her," he replied, taking off at a faster pace to get to you. The expression on your face had him a little worried, and you looked tired, but he was so happy to see you. Because he'd been anxious all day.

"Hi, Natasha," you called out, waving past Bradley as he scooped you up in a hug. "And hi, Daddy," you whispered, next to his ear as he held you.

"Hi, Baby," he sighed, kissing your glossy lips. "I missed you. Did you have a good day?"

You sucked in a deep breath, but then Nat was there, and the two of you were chatting. But your face was pinched and agitated instead of smooth and perfect, and you were playing with your hands nervously. Bradley let you talk to Nat for a few more minutes, and then he softly kissed the top of your head. 

"Don't want to be late to pick Noah up," he told you, and then he gave Nat a hug and took the keys when you held them up for him. "You gonna tell me what's wrong?" he asked as he put the Bronco in gear.

"Why do you think something's wrong?" you asked casually, reaching for his hand. 

"I can tell something's bothering you, Princess. But I'm assuming since you just grabbed my hand that you're not upset with me.

There was a brief pause before you said, "I saw Meredith when I went grocery shopping this morning."

Bradley nearly swerved off the road. "This morning? You saw her this morning, and you're just telling me about it now?" he glanced your way briefly. What happened? Did you get hurt?"

"I'm fine, Bradley." You squeezed his hand and pulled it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his thumb. "I'm perfectly fine."

"I swear, she's trying to ruin my life," he growled. "Won't leave me alone. Thinks it's okay to go after you. I'm afraid I'm going to fucking lose it in the courtroom when I see her tomorrow."

"Bradley, let's just go home and have a nice dinner, and then we can talk about it in a few hours after Noah is in bed, okay? You need to stay calm."

But that proved impossible. Bradley watched you with his son, just as patient as ever. You alternated between making dinner and coloring with him while Bradley silently panicked. He had no idea how he could give this up. Even looking at Noah right now was painful for him. And when Noah asked him to get all three of the paper crowns, Bradley actually started crying.

"Sure, bub. Come help me find yours." Noah took Bradley by the hand and led him down the hallway to his bedroom. 

"It's in here, Daddy," he said, reaching for the yellow crown on his dresser and putting it on his own head before giving the bigger green one to Bradley. "Let's get the purple one for Princess." 

Noah climbed up on Bradley's bed, but he still couldn't reach it. Bradley pulled it down and handed it to his son. "Why don't you give it to her, but only if she's not trying to cook dinner, okay?" It was hard to speak with the lump in his throat as Bradley carried his son back into the kitchen. He had his nose buried in Noah's soft hair, inhaling his scent and holding back tears. "I love you," he whispered as Noah handed you the purple crown.

"Oh, are we all matching tonight?" you asked with a soft laugh. But your smile didn't quite reach your eyes as you looked at Bradley. 

"Yep!" Noah said as you slipped your crown onto your head. 

And then dinner was mostly silent. And if you thought it was strange that Bradley held Noah on his lap the entire time, you didn't say anything. The night was going too quickly. Bradley had spent weeks trying not to think about this day, but now here it was, and it was worse than he could have ever imagined. He could barely stomach the food you made even though it was perfect. 

"It's going to be okay," you whispered across the table. 

"How do you know that?" he asked in response. "How do you know this isn't the last night I get to do this?" Bradley kissed Noah's cheek and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

You stayed silent after that, only whispering something sweet to Noah before you said goodnight to him. Then you let Bradley have some privacy to give Noah a bath and get him dressed for bed. He read seven books to Noah, and he was already asleep by the end of the last one. But he stayed on his knees next to the bed, brushing Noah's curls softly back from his forehead and kissing him a million times.

"I love you," he said, tears filling his eyes as he wandered back out into the hallway. You were cleaning up the kitchen, but when he found himself in the doorway, you gathered him into your arms.

"It's hitting you hard, I can tell," you told him, and Bradley didn't care if you saw him crying.

"I just feel like... all of this shit is beyond my control. I can only do my best. But that's still not good enough to ensure I get to raise my son, which is completely fucked up."

You guided him to one of the chairs and then climbed onto his lap. Your voice was so soft, Bradley could barely hear you. "I just don't see how anyone could take him away from you."

"Do you have any idea how often judges side with mothers over fathers? It's so unsettling, I don't even want to think about it right now."

You tightened your grip on him. "Then let's think about something else."

"I still can't believe Meredith was at the grocery store this morning," he groaned, rubbing his face.

You were quiet for a few minutes, and then you looked at him with your pretty face scrunched in frustration. "She said the strangest things to me."

Bradley was on high alert now. "What? What did she say?"

"Well, she made a comment about how your car is worth a lot of money."

"It's a Bronco, Princess. Not a car." He realized this was the first time he'd really smiled in hours, and it felt good. 

"Yes, I'm so sorry. She mentioned that your Bronco was worth a lot, and she said she was surprised you let me drive it."

He rolled his eyes. "Just because I never let her touch it doesn't mean you can't. She used to wreck up her little sports cars annually and then buy a new one. Doesn't appreciate the classics like you do." Bradley kissed your shoulder and listened to you sigh. "But I guess it's kind of odd that she said that to you. And honestly, I have no idea how much the Bronco is worth. Maybe like sixty thousand? I try to keep her running nice."

You scoffed at him, and then Bradley could practically see the wheels turning in your head. "I looked it up against your VIN number. In pristine condition, your Bronco is worth almost one hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

"It is?" he asked, completely shocked.

"It is," you confirmed. "You didn't know that?"

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"Meredith also mentioned some life insurance money?" you said a little reluctantly. "In an account for Noah?" He watched your eyes go wide as you quickly added, "I'm not trying to pry, and we don't need to talk about it-"

"From my mom," he replied, kissing you softly to let you know it was okay to talk about it. "I have my mom's huge life insurance payout. I never touched a cent, because it was too depressing. After Noah was born, I decided to save it for him. He can use it for college or for a house or.... I don't know, he can sail a fucking yacht around the world with it or something. But it's for him."

You gasped and said, "Bradley, I think Meredith just wants your money."

-------------------------

You watched him slowly shake his head as you scrambled off his lap and went to go get his computer from where you left it charging in the living room. When you brought it back to the kitchen, Bradley said, "Princess, she makes more money than I do. I just don't see how that could be the case. You should see where she lives in Oceanside. It looks like a mansion."

"No," she replied, opening up the tabs she had saved. "She doesn't live in Oceanside any longer."

"How do you know that?" he asked, wrapping his arms around you as you sat perched on his thigh.

You pulled up some property records you had found when you searched Meredith's name earlier. "She went into foreclosure last year and had to sell. She lives in an apartment in San Diego now."

You looked at Bradley over your shoulder, but he was completely silent now.

"What was the name of her company?" you asked, turning back to the computer.

"Coastal Business Development," he said quietly. And a shiver ran through your body. You had been correct in what you found. But now you kept opening tab after tab as he sat there with you. More new information was popping up left and right. She had tried to hide her name by using an LLC, but Bradley knew enough of the missing pieces to help you put it all together.

"She's bankrupt," you whispered, and he gently pushed your hand out of the way to open one last tab himself. You skimmed the court documents and said, "It sounds like she married her business partner, and he left her high and dry."

"Damn," Bradley gasped, going back through each tab about Meredith's real estate foreclosure, business bankruptcies, and personal interviews. You tried to push the computer away, but Bradley kept going back to the same tab, and now he wouldn't even let you minimize it.

"Don't read it," you whispered, pulling his hand away and turning to look at him.

His eyes were void of emotion now as he looked at you. "She was quoted saying she doesn't have any children."

"She doesn't," you insisted, taking his face in your hands. "Not really. But you do. Noah is your son, Bradley."

He let his forehead come to rest on your shoulder, but a minute later, his phone was ringing in his pocket.

"It's probably Nat," he said, shaking his head. "I can't talk to anyone else right now."

He handed you his phone, but you looked at the name and said, "I think you should answer. It's your lawyer."

"Tracy," he grunted, holding the phone up to his face and closing his eyes. You tried to slip off of his lap after a moment, but he held you in place. And then his tone sounded sharp and angry as he scrambled to put the call on speakerphone. "Can you please repeat that last part?"

You heard Tracy's voice clearly say, "You remember how I told you Meredith was in breach of contract with her lawyer? Well, she never paid the law firm. Not a cent. The firm dropped her at the last minute when her funds never materialized. I just found out today. Do you know if she has any sort of history of financial mishaps?"

"Yes!" you said before you could consider if Bradley wanted Tracy to know you were there with him.

Tracy was quiet for a beat. "Are you at home? I'll come to you."

--------------------------

When Tracy arrived after ten o'clock on Tuesday night, Bradley was practically having a nervous breakdown. The hearing was tomorrow. He and Noah were supposed to be at the courthouse in twelve hours. He felt like he was going to throw up.

But at least you were there, touching his hands and his shoulders and trying to make him feel better. You actually were helping him feel better. And then Tracy was in his kitchen with a huge bag, wearing gym clothes and eyeing you a little suspiciously.

Then she looked at Bradley and said, "Ignoring my legal advice, I see."

He sighed deeply. "Tracy, this is my babysitter turned girlfriend."

"Do not call her that tomorrow in the courtroom under any circumstances!" she said hastily. "Promise me, Bradley! I don't want us to end up looking like a pack of idiots when you point her out as your girlfriend."

"Wait..." you said, eyes wide. "You want me there tomorrow?"

"Yes," Tracy said, unloading folders onto the kitchen table along with her computer and a protein shake. "I already have a call in with the judge to have you added as a character witness. So be prepared to answer questions and give a statement if called upon."

"That's too much to ask," Bradley mumbled looking from Tracy to you. "I can't ask you to do that."

You looked at him like he was very slow and maybe a little naive. "You didn't ask me to. Tracy just told me I was. And I want to. If there's a chance I can do anything that might help, I'm doing it."

Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose and tried not to panic too much as you and he showed Tracy what'd you had found online. "Fucking hell," Tracy muttered, scribbling down notes. "I didn't know this was going to turn into a criminal hearing, but here we are." She scrolled through the property records and matched up tax identification numbers, taking everything a step beyond what you and Bradley had been able to do.

"A criminal hearing?" Bradley asked cautiously, but Tracy seemed to be in her own world now.

"Oh... she's slick," Tracy murmured. "Or she believes she is. You would think she'd have known her lawyer wouldn't fall for this. I wonder if she'll even have a lawyer tomorrow..."

Bradley reached for your hand on the table. "Can we just backtrack a moment? What kind of statement will she need to make?" he asked Tracy as he nodded at you. "And what will Meredith's lawyer be allowed to ask her?"

Tracy looked at his fingers intertwined with yours. "You'll just have to answer my questions honestly, without using the word girlfriend! And then Meredith's legal team is going to think it's open season on you as soon as they see your name was added to the docket. If we can even manage to have you added. So if you can't manage to answer their questions calmly and without crying as they try to shred you to pieces, then I suggest you learn how to overnight."

Bradley wanted to put an end to this entire thing, but you cut him off before he could start talking. "Do you honestly think I'll be helpful?"

"Absolutely. Could be the nail in Meredith's coffin, given all this new information."

"Then I'm in. Seriously Bradley, do not argue with us again," you told him, kissing his cheek while Tracy typed away. 

"Okay, I need some coffee. And then let's go over everything from the top," Tracy said, clapping her hands.

----------------------------

It was well after midnight by the time you coaxed Bradley into bed. These last minute revelations were something Tracy insisted were good for Bradley's case, but he was looking extremely apprehensive now. He was raking his fingers through his hair nonstop and pacing around. 

"You need to try to sleep," you whispered, pulling him down the hallway. "Let Tracy do what she needs to do, okay? She's going to be in charge tomorrow. She's good at this."

But he stopped short in front of Noah's door and let go of your hand. "You go get ready for bed. I'll be there in a minute." His voice was flat and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed before ducking inside the dark bedroom. You were worried, mostly about him. And about how Noah would do when being questioned by the judge tomorrow. You didn't have time to worry about yourself, so that was at least one good thing you thought of while you brushed your teeth. 

You were dressed in one of Bradley's oversized shirts and waiting in bed for a while before he came in. You helped him change out of his clothes, and he climbed into bed next to you. He didn't say anything except, "I love you, Princess," after he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. But he let you pull him into your arms, and pretty soon you were dozing off to the feel of his soft breaths on your forehead and his heart beating beneath your palm. 

When you woke to a pitch black room, you could tell he was no longer in bed with you. You found him sitting on the floor in Noah's room, watching his son sleep, and when you walked in, your bare feet silent on the floor, he looked up at you. Even in the dim glow from the nightlight, you could tell he had been crying again. But he didn't ask you to leave. He reached for you. 

"You're a good dad," you told him with a soft sob as you climbed onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Noah is lucky. And I don't believe they could take him away from you. Away from all this love."

He kissed your cheek, and then he smiled softly as you brushed Noah's curls from his forehead with one hand and Bradley's with the other. "I feel like I can't breathe right," he whispered, and you could feel his pulse racing as you pressed your lips to his neck. "I don't know what I'll do if they take him from me."

"Stop it. They won't."

He was silent again after that, and the two of you ended up sleeping right there on the floor. When you woke up as Noah climbed out of bed just after sunrise, your hip was a little sore, and Bradley was still sleeping. 

"Morning, Noah," you whispered, standing and scooping him into your arms. You took him to the kitchen, kissing his chubby cheeks on the way.

"Do you live here now?" he asked, yawning as you turned on the coffee maker. 

"No. I don't," you said, hoping he wouldn't say anything like that when he was questioned by the judge in a few hours. "I'm just your babysitter." He just blinked at you before asking for breakfast.

About twenty minutes later, when Bradley walked in rubbing his back, he made a beeline for Noah while you scrambled some eggs and made coffee. Even the mug that said My Other Car Is a Super Hornet didn't make you smile today. You burned your mouth on the coffee, and you nearly knocked the pan onto the floor. Because every time you looked at Bradley, you were on the verge of tears. Maybe you weren't capable of being as strong as you needed to be today. Now the idea of standing up in the courtroom was laughable. You were going to ruin everything.

Bradley was calling your name, and when you snapped out of your daze, he said, "You need to eat, too."

"I can't," you whispered, shaking your head. "I can't." You left them alone and went to take a quick shower, happy you'd packed a variety of clothing when you stopped home the other day. You were supposed to have a mock interview with one of your peers over a FaceTime call today, so you'd packed a blazer and some nice pants. You'd just have to skip the interview. Honestly, school and searching for a job had been the last things on your mind recently anyway.

You let Bradley get Noah ready to go, and when it was time to leave, you looked at him, so handsome in his navy blue suit. "Will you drive? Please?" he asked, holding out the Bronco key for you to take. You simply nodded, but a moment later, you felt tears in your eyes again. He was sitting in the backseat next to Noah. You backed carefully out of his driveway and headed to the center of the city and the courthouse and Meredith and everything else that you wished Bradley and Noah didn't have to see today. 

--------------------------

The fact that Tracy was chugging a Red Bull and looked like she hadn't slept at all was only making Bradley feel worse as he carried Noah up the stairs in front of the courthouse. 

She rushed toward them and pointed at you. "You're on the docket. Get ready. Meredith supposedly has a lawyer, and I'm sure they've seen the docket update by now."

"Okay," you replied. You were nodding, but you looked as nervous as Bradley felt.

Then Tracy was patting Noah on the head. "Remember me?  I'm Tracy. We're going to do something a little different today, okay Noah? It might seem a little silly at first, because you'll be the only kid here! But you'll be allowed to color when we get inside."

You gasped. "I didn't pack him any coloring books!"

"I have some," Tracy said, patting her briefcase. You immediately looked a little calmer, and Tracy added, "But that's the sign of a good babysitter if you usually pack them."

"She brings me coloring books when she babysits me," Noah told Tracy. 

Bradley held Noah a little tighter. "Made sure I got you the best babysitter around, bub."

Just as Tracy cracked open another can of Red Bull that she procured from somewhere, she said, "Time to go in." Bradley didn't stand too close to you, and he didn't touch you. He followed you inside the front doors at a respectable distance, and you seemed to understand what needed to be done today. 

When Bradley's eyes settled on Meredith, she was already looking at him. And she was standing next to a tall man in a suit. "Well, would you look at that? She does have a lawyer today," Tracy whispered, crushing the now empty can in her fist and throwing it away before walking over to introduce herself to him. 

Bradley had to turn his gaze away from his ex, and he walked a little further away from you. The desire to touch you was strong, but he instinctively wanted to get Noah as far away from Meredith as he possibly could. Bradley's heart was pounding, and a wave of nausea passed through him. 

"Daddy, can we go home?" Noah whispered, wrapping his arms around Bradley's neck. "I don't like it here."

Neither did Bradley. He held his son and thought about Carole, and how she never let anything scary happen to him when he was a kid. He thought about losing everything by the time he was a teenager and about the fact that Noah had given him a fresh start. A reason to be happy. And it was because of Noah that he met you. When he glanced over his shoulder, you were watching the two of them with a soft gaze. 

"Pretty soon, bub," he replied, squeezing his son and pressing his lips to his forehead. "I'll take you home soon. I hope."

--------------------------

Next up is the showdown! Get in my asks with questions and concerns, but we may be nearing the end. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 25

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[aceyalonso]

xi - She's my girl

chapter summary : sienna's parents invite you and oscar's family to have dinner and spend the night at their house, what happens when marietta does something that ruins her friendship with you?

alternative summary : fluff, angst, smut, the holy trinity in one

warnings : y/n is a history nerd, angst, swearing, fighting, drinking (mentioned and implied), slight miscommunication, marietta is a BITCH, smut, dom!oscar hair pulling, fingering, pussy slapping, mirror sex, edging, overstimulation, spanking, bondage (belt), squirting, face sitting, breeding kink lowkey, creampie, oral (both receiving), gagging, praise kink, degradation kink, unprotected sex (use a condom guys!)

word count : 23.3k

a/n : only 1 more chapter till this series ends :( | I AM SHOCKED WITH THE SMUT LIKE NO WAY I WROTE THIS BRO WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS SO FREAKY IM SCARING MYSELF

song : can't help falling in love - elvis presley

Wednesday, 9:10 AM

The next morning, both Y/n and Oscar's family gather at the breakfast table in the house. The room is filled with the scent of eggs, bacon, and coffee, and the atmosphere is a mix of cheerfulness and familiarity.

Y/n sits at the table, a plate of food in front of her, her hair slightly messy from sleep. Across her, sits Oscar, his plate also loaded with food as he engages in the conversation around him.

The family members are chatting amongst themselves, discussing plans for the day ahead. Y/n is chiming in occasionally, her eyes darting to Oscar every now and then, a private smile playing on her lips as she secretly remembers the events of the previous night.

Oscar, for his part, seems his usual charming self, engaging with the others in conversation while occasionally throwing a discreet peek in Y/n's direction.

As the family is chatting, Y/n's mom mentions that she ran into Sienna and Marietta's mom at the supermarket the day before. She explained that they had started talking and chatting, so she had gotten home a bit later than expected.

Y/n's mom then says, "Oh, and get this! While we were chatting, they invited us over for dinner. ALL of us. How nice of them, right?" Y/n's mom finishes, her voice filled with her usual cheerful energy as she relays the invitation.

Y/n looks up from her plate, a slice of bacon halfway to her mouth. She hesitates for a moment, a small frown creasing her forehead as she processes the information. Then she asks, her voice tinged with slight apprehension. "When is this dinner party happening?"

Her mother beams at Y/n's question, her cheerful disposition unperturbed. She takes a bite of toast before responding, "Oh, it's on Saturday. Your father will be back from the countryside on Friday, so it works out well." her voice filled with her usual enthusiasm

Y/n looks at her mom, a puzzled expression on her face. She sets the slice of bacon down on her plate and asks her mom a question. "Why is dad in the countryside anyway? Is there some sort of work he's doing there?"

Y/n's mom reaches for her coffee mug, taking a small sip before explaining. "Ah, the vineyard. Your Tia Lidia asked him to take care of the vineyard for a few days while she goes on a trip- I'm not quite sure if it's a business trip or not but either way, your father is there." Her voice is nonchalant, as if the the reason is obvious.

Y/n nods in understanding, her memory being jogged by her mother's words. She says, her voice a bit sheepish, "Right, the vineyard. I forgot about that. It's been a while since we've been there."

May, who had been listening in on the conversation, suddenly chimes in. She turns to Y/n and her mom, her voice a tad bit anxious. "What's the dress code? I only packed summer clothes..."

Y/n's mom chuckles at May's question, her laughter light and reassuring. She says, "Don't worry, casual is fine. We don't need to be too dressy. But if you don't have anything suitable, you and Y/n can always go shopping and find something nice to wear. How does that sound?" her voice warm and understanding

Y/n nods in agreement, appreciating her mother's suggestion. "That sounds good. A little shopping spree could be fun," she adds, her voice lighter now that the wardrobe issue is sorted out.

After breakfast, Y/n heads up to Oscar's room, the events of last night and the anticipation of seeing him again add a slight skip in her step.

Once she reaches his room, she goes inside and closes the door behind her, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She waits patiently, excitement thrumming through her veins as she eagerly awaits his arrival.

Oscar soon walks into his room, expecting to find it empty, only to be jumpscare when he sees Y/n patiently waiting on his bed. He lets out a small involuntary gasp, surprised by her presence there. But the surprise quickly melts into a warm smile as he crosses the room to where she is sitting.

He approaches her, his eyes lingering on her face for a moment before he speaks. There's a mix of curiosity and affection in his voice as he questions her presence there.

"I wasn't expecting to find you here," he says, his voice affectionate and quiet. "What brings you to my room, all alone and patiently waiting for me, hm?"

Y/n looks up at him, a cheeky smile on her lips as she responds. "Just wanted to spend some alone time with you, is that a crime?" She pats the spot next to her, silently inviting him to join her on the bed. "Come here, sit with me."

Oscar chuckles, his eyes sparkling with affectionate mischief. He settles down beside her, his body pressed against hers as he responds to her cheeky comment.

"True, wanting to spend with me isn't a crime, but entering my room unannounced could be considered trespassing. I might have to call the police," he teases, a playful sparkle in his eyes.

Y/n grins as she pulls Oscar towards her, her movements quick and sure. They both fall back onto the bed, their bodies now lying side by side, separated only by a sheet of air. Y/n's heart is pounding, and her breath hitches as the closeness between them electrifies the room.

Y/n giggles as they lay there, the memories of her childhood room flooding back. She nuzzles closer to him, her voice light and playful as she points out, "By the way, you know what? This room used to be mine. So technically, I'm not really trespassing. I'm just revisiting my old territory."

Oscar laughs loudly at her statement, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he teases her, drawing from the iconic werewolf characters from the Twilight series.

"You sound like a werewolf from Twilight right now! Your old territory, huh? I can practically hear the howling and the transformation music in the background." He grins, enjoying the banter between them.

Y/n playfully smacks his arm, feigning mock offense at his comparison. Her voice is filled with exaggerated indignity as she responds. "Hey! Don't compare me to those sparkly vampires and werewolves! I'm a normal human, thank you very much. No transforming during the full moon for me."

They both laugh again, their shared humor creating a lighthearted atmosphere. Oscar then grins at her, his eyes sparkling with affection as he responds.

"Alright, alright, no more werewolf comments. My apologies. I guess you're just a normal human with a hint of possessive territory instincts, right?"

Y/n nods in playful agreement to Oscar's comment about her possessing territory instincts. She then moves a bit, adjusting her position to get more comfortable. She turns slightly, snuggling up against him, her head resting on his shoulder, her leg lazily thrown over his.

Y/n suddenly remembers the mention of the shopping spree. She lifts her head from Oscar's shoulder, looking up at him.

"Hey, you heard my mom talking about the shopping trip, right? Do you think we can find anything decent to wear for the dinner party there?"

Oscar nods thoughtfully, his mind already working on possibilities. "Yeah, I heard her mention it. And yeah, I bet we can find something decent to wear there. The city has plenty of stores to explore. We'll definitely find something suitable."

Y/n winces slightly as she shifts her weight, her shoulder getting sore. She looks at Oscar apologetically. "Hey, can we switch positions again? My shoulder's starting to hurt from this angle."

Oscar immediately nods, his tone concerned as he notices her wincing. "Sure, of course. Let's change positions. You don't want to end up with a sore shoulder, right?" He moves carefully, shifting his body so that she can adjust her position, accommodating her needs.

Y/n smiles gratefully, appreciating his consideration. She readjusts herself, now lying on her back as her legs intertwined with his. She lets out a sigh of relief, the pain in her shoulder subsiding now that she's more comfortable.

Y/n suddenly switches gears, starting a totally random conversation. She glances at Oscar, her tone suddenly casual and lighthearted.

"Hey, speaking of shopping, do you ever get sick of wearing clothes? I mean, sometimes I just wish I could be naked all the time. It's so freeing, you know?"

Y/n suddenly switches gears, starting a totally random conversation. She glances at Oscar, her tone suddenly casual and lighthearted. "Hey, speaking of shopping, do you ever get sick of wearing clothes? I mean, sometimes I just wish I could be naked all the time. It's so freeing, you know?"

Oscar looks at her, a smirk playing on his lips, as he playfully responds. "Are you secretly a nudist or something? Wanting to be naked all the time sounds a bit… risqué, don't you think?"

Y/n laughs, shaking her head in denial. She replies, her voice light and carefree. "No, I'm not a nudist, I swear. I was just kidding. Though I do love the feeling of being in nothing but a silky robe, with the fabric gliding over my skin, feeling the coolness of the air against my body."

Oscar's fingers find their way into Y/n's hair, gently running through the silky strands as he responds, his voice low and slightly huskier than before. "A sight I'd love to see, you in only a silky robe, the fabric hugging your curves, and nothing between your body and the cool air? That sounds… intriguing, to say the least."

Y/n laughingly slaps his arm, feigning annoyance at his thoughts taking an amorous turn. Her voice is a mix of playful sternness and lightheartedness. "Hey, focus! We're having a philosophical moment here, in case you forgot. Don't ruin it with your dirty thoughts."

Oscar chuckles, defending himself, his voice filled with mock innocence. He points out. "Hey, you were the one who brought up the topic of nudity first. I was just trying to follow the conversation, you know."

Y/n rolls her eyes, a small smile on her face, before playfully replying. "Okay, fine, I'll take some responsibility for bringing up the subject. But you didn't have to immediately go there, you know. We could've had a purely intellectual conversation about clothing-optional lifestyles."

Y/n suddenly brings up a historical fact, her curiosity about the Romans sparking a new topic. "Hey, did you know that the Romans were surprisingly open about nudity? They even had public bathhouses where people would just casually walk around naked as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But there were exceptions, though."

Y/n suddenly begins ranting about the Roman Empire, her passion for history shining through as she starts listing facts. "The Roman Empire was so ahead of its time, you know? They had an amazing road system and an advanced drainage system, and they practically invented the calendar we still use. Plus, their architecture was breathtaking. Buildings like the Colosseum and the Pantheon are still standing, over two thousand years later!"

Oscar listens intently to her passionate rant, occasionally interjecting with a question or making a comment to keep the conversation going. He's amazed by her fervor, her enthusiasm contagious as she speaks about the Romans. "So, they had all these incredible inventions and architecture, but what about their society? What was daily life like for an ordinary citizen?"

Y/n stops her tirade briefly to ponder Oscar's question, before launching into a thorough explanation. "Well, for your average Roman citizen, life would've been a mix of work, religion, and entertainment. Most people would have been involved in manual labor, agriculture, or trades. The Roman Empire was a huge society, with a complex social hierarchy. At the top were the rich and powerful, while the lower classes would've led more austere, hardworking lives."

As Y/n continues her passionate explanation about the Romans, she's suddenly interrupted by the unexpected kiss from Oscar. She looks at him, surprised for a moment, a smile slowly forming on her face as she realizes his gesture.

"Hey, I was talking, you know?" She says, a mixture of mock annoyance and amusement in her voice.

Instead of continuing her historical rants, Y/n now finds herself slightly distracted by the kiss. She can't help but be amused by Oscar's interruption, but she soon finds herself returning the kiss, losing herself in the moment.

Y/n breaks the kiss, her mind quickly snapping back into historical mode. Despite the distraction, her passion for the Roman Empire remains unbroken

"Right. Sorry, I got sidetracked for a moment. So, as I was saying, the Romans had this really interesting system of government…."

Oscar laughs loudly, his amusement growing by the second as he watches Y/n seamlessly switch from a passionate kiss back to historical facts. He grins, finding her enthusiasm endearing and endearing and adorable.

"You know, most people would get distracted and forget what they were saying after a kiss like that. But not you. You're back to talking about the Romans like nothing happened."

Y/n grins, defending her dedication to history, her voice filled with nostalgic joy.

"Of course, I didn't have a Percy Jackson-themed sweet 16 party for nothing. That event was the pinnacle of my teenage obsession with ancient civilizations. I mean, who needs a typical birthday party when you can have a full-blown historical tribute?"

Oscar's laughter continues, his face now buried in Y/n's chest as he playfully calls her a nerd. His voice is slightly muffled. "You're such a nerd, you know that? Most people would just get some typical birthday party for their sweet sixteen, with cake and balloons and stuff. But you had to go all out with a Percy Jackson theme. Only a true history enthusiast would do that."

Y/n grins, accepting the title of nerd with a hint of pride, and continuing her historical dialogue. "But yes, thank you, I am a nerd, as you've pointed out. Anyway, let's continue our discussion from where we left off. The Roman Empire, and its surprisingly casual approach to nudity…"

Thursday, 10:31 AM

Oscar, Y/n, and May are now browsing through the racks of dresses in the store. As they move through the aisles, Oscar has already collected a few shopping bags, holding onto them with practiced ease. He seems to be adapting to the shopping task quite well, his earlier reluctance replaced by mild curiosity.

Y/n turns to Oscar, holding a couple of dresses in her arms, and announces her plan to head to the changing room. "I'm going to the changing room to try on these dresses. Mind waiting here for a bit?" She says, a smile on her face.

Y/n looks at Oscar, a playful glimmer in her eye as she suggests something. "Do you want to come with me and wait outside the door? That way, you can give me your honest opinions on the dresses as I change."

Oscar looks at her for a moment, considering her suggestion, before nodding. He grins, clearly up for the task. "Sure, why not? I'll keep watch outside the door and offer my fashion critique as needed."

Y/n grins back, happy that he agreed to her request. She leads the way towards the changing rooms, finding an empty one. She turns back to Oscar before going inside. "Alright, give me a moment. I'll come out and show you the dresses one by one, okay?"

Y/n emerges from the changing room with the first dress on, a smile of excitement on her face. She twirls slightly for Oscar, giving him a full view of the red dress. It complements her figure well, hugging her curves in all the right places.

"Well? What do you think of this one?" she asks, her voice displaying a slight sense of discomfort.

Oscar looks at her, his gaze taking in the bright red dress. He scans her from head to toe, his gaze appreciative and slightly playful. He grins as she twirls, appreciating the way the dress hugs her curves. "Red looks good on you. It really emphasizes your figure. You look… stunning."

Y/n smiles at Oscar's complement, but then adds a note of skepticism as she assesses the comfort of the dress. "Thanks, I appreciate the compliment. But comfort-wise, it's not exactly the most comfortable dress. The fabric is a bit too stiff, and it doesn't really breathe well." she complains, fidgeting with the straps of the dress.

Y/n disappears back into the changing room, leaving Oscar waiting outside. After a few moments, she steps out in a different dress. This one is a flowing, light blue sundress, with spaghetti straps and a gathered bodice. It hugs her curves loosely, accentuating her figure in a more subtle and breezy manner.

She twirls once again, giving Oscar a glimpse of the second dress. The soft blue fabric floats around her, moving gracefully with her movements. She looks at him, gauging his reaction. "Here is the next one. What do you think of this one?"

Oscar's eyes widen slightly as he sees Y/n in the second dress. The light blue fabric of the sundress complements her figure nicely, and the loose, flowing style seems far more comfortable than the red dress. He smiles, his gaze appreciative, his voice a bit softer than before.

"That one looks great, really great. It's much more comfortable and breezy, isn't it? The color suits you, too. You look really lovely."

Y/n giggles slightly at his comment, pointing out a concern she has about the dress. She gestures towards the spaghetti straps, her tone lighthearted but slightly wary.

"Yeah, I really like the style of this one, but there's one issue. The straps are pretty thin. I mean, what if one of them breaks and a wardrobe malfunction happens? I don't want to flash a titty at the dinner party, you know?"

Oscar bursts into laughter, unable to contain himself as Y/n points out her concern about the spaghetti straps. His laughter is loud and uncontrollable, drawing the attention of a few people nearby.

Y/n shushes him, a mix of embarrassment and amusement on her face. "Shh, quiet. People are staring. You're going to get us kicked out."

Oscar tries to control his laughter, but his body still shakes from suppressed chuckles. He takes a moment to compose himself before responding."Sorry, sorry… just the imagined scenario of you accidentally flashing us in that dress was too much for me."

Y/n rolls her eyes at Oscar's comment, but can't help but find his reaction amusing. She retreats back into the changing room to change into the last dress she has. After a few moments, she emerges for the third time, this time dressed in a beautiful champagne white knee-length dress.

The A-line dress shows just a hint of cleavage to catch Oscar's attention, making her look elegant and sophisticated. The bodice is cinched at the waist, and the fabric falls gracefully to a slight flare at the knee. Y/n steps out, twirling slightly for Oscar, gauging his reaction to the final dress.

Oscar's eyes widen as he sees Y/n in the last dress. The champagne-white fabric shimmers slightly in the lighting, and the cinched waist accentuates her figure beautifully. The hint of cleavage draws his gaze, making it difficult for him to look away. "Damn, that dress looks amazing. It fits you perfectly. You look… gorgeous."

Y/n smiles, satisfied with Oscar's compliment, and looks down to admire the dress herself. Her tone is filled with genuine praise for the third dress. "Yeah, I really like this one. It's classy but not overly formal, and it's actually more comfortable than the other two. Plus, the champagne white color looks really nice on me, right?"

Oscar nods in agreement, his gaze slowly trailing over her figure, appreciating how the dress hugs her curves. He grins, his voice slightly thick with desire, a hint of huskiness in his tone. "Yeah, you look incredible. Seriously. You could wear this to any fancy event and turn heads for sure. I can't take my eyes off of you right now."

Y/n grins at Oscar's compliment, her heart fluttering just a bit before she disappears back into the changing room. After a few minutes, she emerges in her regular clothes once again. She steps out, carrying all three dresses in her arms.

Oscar, who has been waiting outside, looks at her as she re-emerges in her regular clothes, holding the dresses in her arms. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his face. "So, have you made a decision? Which one are you picking?"

Y/n looks at the three dresses, her hand running over the fabric of each one. She contemplates for a moment before turning to Oscar, a smile on her face. "I think I'm going to go with the white dress. It's the most comfortable and it looks good, too. It'll be perfect for the dinner party."

Oscar's smirk transforms into a small smile as he hears her decision. He nods approvingly, his tone slightly teasing. "White dress it is, then. Good choice. You'll definitely turn heads at the dinner party. Just make sure no wardrobe malfunctions happen."

Y/n smiles at Oscar's teasing, rolling her eyes slightly. "Oh, don't worry, I'll make sure these straps hold my girls in place. No wardrobe malfunctions allowed."

Oscar grins, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Just make sure whatever you've got is strong enough. You don't want any accidents happening mid-conversation, or I might be the one to blame for distracting you and causing the malfunction."

Y/n laughs, shaking her head at him. "Oh, trust me, I have it under control. I don't need you causing any distractions. Besides, if any distractions happen, it'll be more your fault than mine."

They both laugh heartily as Y/n returns the dresses to their respective racks. They make their way towards the cashier, the energy between them light and playful after the eventful dress-shopping experience.

The dresses are put back, and Y/n turns to Oscar with a smile and a tease. "So, how about next time we go shopping, I bring you along for a change? I'll need a second opinion on what looks good on me, after all."

Oscar nods with a humorous smile, accepting the idea of accompanying Y/n on her future shopping trips. "Sure, that sounds good to me. I'm more than happy to give you my fashion advice."

Suddenly, May appears from behind them, her presence causing them to jump slightly in surprise. She grins, noticing their reaction to her sudden appearance, clearly enjoying the fact that she startled them. She chimes in, her usual cheerful tone filling the air."Hey guys! Done with the dress shopping?"

Y/n and Oscar both chuckle lightly, a bit taken aback by May's sudden appearance. Oscar replies with a smile, his heart rate slowly returning to normal."Yeah, we just finished. Y/n picked out a dress for the dinner party. You should see it, it's really nice."

May smiles wider, clearly interested in the details. "Oh, really? Can't wait to see it. Y/n, you always pick out the best outfits. I'm sure this one will look amazing too."

Y/n grins and nods, her excitement for the dress clear in her expression. "Thanks, May. I really like this one. It's comfortable and looks really nice, or at least Oscar seems to think so."

May pretends to gag, an exaggerated look of disgust on her face, clearly jesting them. "Oh, please. You guys don't need to rub your couple stuff in my face. Not all of us are lucky enough to find our perfect match like you two lovebirds."

They laugh at May's fake gagging, amused by her over-the-top reaction. Then, it's their turn to pay for the dress. Y/n steps up to the cashier, pulling out her wallet to pay.

Oscar swoops in as the transaction finishes, grabbing the bag with the dress before Y/n can even protest. He grins, holding the bag, knowing she's going to argue.

Y/n raises an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and mock annoyance on her face as Oscar snatches the bag from her grasp. "Hey, what are you doing? I can carry that, you know."

Oscar grins wider, "Oh, I know you can carry it. But I thought I'd be a gentleman and carry it for you. Consider it my little act of chivalry." his voice laced with playful stubbornness.

May eavesdrops on their playful argument, a mischievous smile on her face. Seeing an opportunity, she chimes in, holding out her heavy shopping bag with a tone of challenge. "Ooh, since Oscar's so keen on carrying things, how about you carry my shopping bag, too?"

Oscar turns to May, his expression turning to one of slightly annoyed realization. He responds with a hint of playfulness still present in his voice. "Hey, now. I never said I was a carrying service for everyone. I was talking about carrying Y/n's bag because, you know, I'm her boyfriend. Your shopping bag is where I draw the line, sorry."

May laughs, finding enjoyment in teasing them both. She holds up her shopping bag with feigned innocence, her grin widening. "Aww, come on, Osc. You won't deny a poor, defenseless girl the chance to have her bag carried? What if it's too heavy for my fragile wrists?"

Oscar rolls his eyes, once again realizing that May is enjoying pushing his buttons. He responds with a mixture of mock reluctance and amusement. "Defenseless, really? Do you think I buy that act? And your wrists are as strong as an ox, don't try to play the weak card on me."

Y/n chimes in, her tone filled with playful scolding as she joins in on the banter. "Oz, just carry her bag. It's not that big of a deal, and you're being stubborn about it. Come on, be a good sport."

May jumps in with an encouraging tone, fully agreeing with Y/n. "Yeah, Oscar. Be a good sport and carry my bag for me, won't you? It's not like it weighs a ton."

Oscar lets out an exaggerated sigh, knowing he's outnumbered by the two of them ganging up on him.

He groans dramatically before giving in, playing along."Fine, fine. I'll carry your bag, May. But only because Y/n and you are both ganging up on me. No more favors after this, got it?"

may.piastri • Just Now Garfunkel and Oates • You, Me and Steve

caption : i'm steve

Saturday, 5:49 PM

The car pulls up in front of the De Cresenzo household, parked along the gravelly driveway with a mix of other vehicles belonging to the De Cresenzo family. The evening is drawing near, the sky tinged with hues of orange and pink as the sun begins to set.

Y/n steps out of the car, adjusting her hair and smoothing out her dress. She takes a deep breath, a mix of excitement and nervousness in her chest. She turns to Oscar, who has gotten out of the car as well and gives him a brief, reassuring smile.

Y/n's mother, along with Oscar's mother, approaches the front door of the house, their arms linked together in an amiable manner. Y/n's mother reaches out and gently raps her knuckles against the heavy wooden door, creating a soft, rhythmic sound. The rest of the family members trail behind them, waiting for the door to open with a mix of anticipation and curiosity.

Sienna grins as she opens the door, her warm and pleasant demeanor greeting Y/n's mother and Oscar's mother. "Hey, come on in. Sorry my mom is running a bit late, she's still getting ready upstairs but should be down in a minute. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

As the family members trickle in, Oscar and Y/n enter last, with Oscar offering a simple "Hi" and Y/n embracing Sienna in a quick hug. There's a sense of ease and familiarity between the two friends, a hint of comfort amongst the slightly formal atmosphere.

Sienna grins at Y/n, her tone affectionate and welcoming as they part from their hug."Hey, Y/n! You look great in that dress. I'm really glad you could make it." She then glances over at Oscar, her smile widening. "And hi, Oscar. You look quite sharp yourself."

Oscar gives Sienna a friendly smile, his eyes drifting down to her outfit for a brief moment. "Thanks, I appreciate it. You look really nice yourself. This is quite the event." He turns to Y/n, holding her hand as he subtly pulls her closer to him.

Y/n, standing beside Oscar, feels the warmth of his hand, his subtle gesture drawing her closer to him. She looks up at him for a moment, their proximity creating a subtle sense of intimacy as he pulls her a fraction closer. Y/n's mother, like Oscar's mother, notices the gesture but doesn't comment on it, knowing that it's a natural, romantic act between a couple.

Sienna grins mischievously and suddenly grabs Y/n's hand, pulling her gently towards the living room. Oscar chuckles at the action, following closely behind the two girls. The sound of chatter and laughter emanating from the living room can be heard as they approach.

As they enter the living room, Y/n's eyes widen in pleasant surprise. She hadn't expected to see Arthur, Sienna and Marietta's cousin, and her old neighbor from back in Monaco. A mix of nostalgia and excitement wash over her. "Arthur! I didn't know you were here?"

Arthur glances up from his conversation with his older brother Charles and spots Y/n in the doorway. A smile spreads across his face, his familiar features lighting up with recognition. "Y/n, is that you? It's been ages! I didn't know you were coming tonight."

Arthur's smile widens, and he immediately envelops Y/n in a warm hug, expressing his own surprise at seeing her. As he releases Y/n, his gaze shifts to Oscar who is standing just behind her. A brief flicker of confusion passes over his expression before a friendly smile once again forms on his face, though it's tinged with a hint of curiosity.

Arthur's recognition of Oscar is clear, and the memories of their online and offline interactions come back to him. As the boys hug each other, the surprise on both their faces is evident. They part from the embrace, a mixture of friendly acknowledgment and curiosity in their gazes.

Oscar grins at Arthur, genuinely pleased to see him. He pats Arthur's back in a warm, familiar gesture. "Arthur, man, it's been a while! I didn't know you'd be here tonight too."

Arthur grins back at Oscar, his expression mirroring the sentiment. "Yeah, it has, hasn't it? I was just as surprised to see you here. Small world, isn't it?"

Sienna and Y/n watch the exchange between Oscar and Arthur with a slight sense of confusion, wondering about the history between the two boys. Sienna glances at Y/n curiously, silently questioning if she knew about this friendship.

Y/n looks at Sienna, noticing her look of confusion and curiosity. She gives a slight shrug, silently indicating to Sienna that she didn't know about the extent of Oscar's friendship with Arthur either. For the moment, she chooses to stay silent, letting the boys chat amongst themselves.

Sienna, intrigued by the conversation between the boys and curious about their connection, decides to speak up. "Hey, Arthur, how do you know Oscar? You guys seem to know each other really well."

Arthur turns towards Sienna, his friendly smile still present as he answers her question. "Oh, me and Oscar? We actually met online through a gaming forum. We bonded over our shared interests and eventually ended up meeting in real life. We've been friends ever since."

Sienna and Y/n both let out an "ohh" in unison, their question now answered. It seems that the connection between Oscar and Arthur stemmed from an unlikely source — online gaming.

Y/n glances over at Oscar, intrigued by this revelation. She hadn't known that he and Arthur had met through online gaming. Although surprised, she finds it endearing that a common interest has forged a friendship between the two.

Oscar chuckles lightly, echoing the sentiment that Arthur had earlier shared. He affirms the coincidence and adds, his tone playful, "What a small world. Who would've thought we'd end up all being here tonight."

Marietta and her mother make their way down the stairs, and a call from inside the dining room alerts Sienna, Arthur, Oscar, and Y/n that dinner is ready. The four of them instinctively turn towards the sound, ready to head into the dining room for the meal.

The dinner progresses with a pleasant atmosphere. Smiles, laughter, and conversations fill the table as everyone enjoys their meal and each other's company. Y/n's parents, Oscar's parents, Arthur's parents, and Sienna's parents all interact with one another, finding common ground and exchanging anecdotes. Y/n, Oscar, Sienna, Arthur, and Marietta all engage in lighthearted banter and catch up on each other's lives.

As the conversation ebbs and flows, Marietta leans in close and whispers in Oscar's ear, "You know, Oscar, you're looking particularly handsome tonight."

Oscar, visibly uncomfortable under Marietta's advances, tenses up slightly at her comment. He gives her an awkward laugh, his gaze darting around the table, hoping for someone to intervene or change the subject.

Arthur, sensing Oscar's discomfort, decides to interject and shift the focus away from Marietta's relentless advances.

His relief is almost palpable, grateful for the distraction Arthur has provided. He turns towards Arthur, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

"Oh, me and Y/n? We met when they went to Melbourne, our mothers ran into each other by chance." Oscar replies, taking a sip of wine.

Arthur nods, intrigued by their story. He glances over at Y/n with a small smile, then back at Oscar. "Ah, Melbourne, huh? That's an interesting place. How long were you there for?" He says, turning the question to Y/n.

Y/n chimes in, continuing the story, their voice light and cheerful. "We were there for just a month, but it's funny how our families managed to cross paths near the end of my stay. Melbourne's a huge city, after all."

Arthur raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the coincidence. He chuckles lightly, commenting, "That's some pretty good luck to have your families run into each other right before you left. Must have made for a memorable end to the trip."

Y/n laughs softly, confirming Arthur's observation. "It sure did. It was a bit of a whirlwind, but definitely made for a memorable ending. And it was the start of me and May's friendship too."

The conversation around the dining table continues as the dinner carries on. People laugh, talk, and enjoy their food, although it's clear that Marietta is still keeping a keen eye on Oscar, the atmosphere a mix of enjoyment and subtle unease. Y/n and Oscar both try to engage in the conversation, avoiding Marietta's advances while occasionally exchanging furtive glances and smiles.

After the dinner concludes, the older adults continue chatting while the younger ones gather in the living room. The atmosphere is a bit stifling with Marietta’s constant presence but overall the group settles in as best they can.

Y/n and Oscar are sitting on the couch, close together with Oscar’s arm wrapped around Y/n in a protective and affectionate gesture. There is a slight tension in the air as Marietta keeps glancing towards them, clearly envious of their closeness.

Oscar sits next to Y/n on the couch, subtly watching her as she scrolls through her phone. His gaze occasionally flicks over to Marietta, who is sitting in an armchair across from them, her eyes fixed on Oscar in a mixture of jealousy and desire.

Y/n, blissfully unaware of Marietta's gazes, continues to scroll through her phone, tapping and swiping through different apps. Every now and then, she leans into Oscar slightly, feeling safe and comfortable in his presence.

Oscar, feeling a little uneasy with Marietta's intense stares, finds himself becoming more protective of Y/n, his arm instinctively pulling her a bit closer. He tries to refocus on Y/n, watching her phone screen and silently enjoying their proximity.

Y/n, feeling a subtle sense of unease, glances up from her phone screen and notices Marietta's relentless staring. She discreetly opens up her notes app, pretending to type something important, though her attention is more focused on Marietta's gaze towards Oscar and herself.

Oscar notices what Y/n is writing on her notes app and leans closer to her, gently kissing her temple. He whispers in her ear, his voice tinged with a hint of irritation, "Yeah, Marietta's been staring at us for a while now. She's not being exactly subtle about it."

Y/n notices Oscar's subtle irritation and responds by pouting slightly. She then exits the notes app and shifts her attention towards Gabriel, who is resting his head on her lap. She begins playing with his hair, running her fingers through it and stroking it gently. It seems like a subconscious act, a way to relax and ignore Marietta's persistent stares.

Arthur, spotting the opportunity to lighten the mood, suddenly picks up the 7-year-old boy from Y/n's lap. He swings him over his shoulder, the boy's giggles filling the air as he rides on Arthur's shoulders like a superhero. The unexpected display of playfulness breaks the tension and brings a genuine laugh from some of the group, including Y/n, while Marietta looks a bit annoyed at the distraction.

Y/n, seeing the innocent joy on Gabriel's face and Arthur's playful antics, couldn't resist capturing the moment on video. With a smile, she took out her phone and started filming, capturing the sight of Gabriel on top of Arthur's shoulders, both of them laughing and goofing around.

Y/n continued to film the two of them, her phone recording the sweet moment as Arthur continued to act like a superhero and Gabriel continued to laugh and cheer. Their innocent fun contrasted Marietta’s intense stares, creating a stark difference between the carefree spirit of childhood and the adult tension in the room.

Sienna suddenly interjects, her voice excited and light, "Hey Arthur, put Gabriel down and play just dance with me!"

Arthur laughs, setting the young boy down and turning to Sienna. "You're on!"

Sienna and Arthur both stand up, ready to engage in a dance battle. They both look at each other with determination and excitement, the others watching with curiosity and amusement.

Sienna selects a song on the game console, choosing a fast-paced tune. The music starts playing, filling the room with upbeat beats. Sienna and Arthur both begin to dance to the rhythm, their moves a mix of awkward and silly but filled with enthusiasm.

Oscar's laughter rings out loudly in the room, the sound infectious and genuine. His hand remains firmly on Y/n's waist as he watches Sienna and Arthur dance, clearly enjoying the show. Despite the lingering presence of Marietta's stares, Oscar's good mood seems unaffected by it.

Y/n feels Oscar's hand, playfully fiddling with the zipper of her dress. "Stop it," she warns.

"Why should I?" Oscar asks, his eyebrows raised out curiosity.

Y/n's cheeks flush slightly as she speaks, a mixture of embarrassment and flirtation in her voice. "Cause I'll end up flashing the entire room," she murmurs, glancing around to ensure no one else can hear them. "I don't have a bra under this dress.

Her reply shocks Oscar, her words cutting through the teasing banter and bringing him back to reality. His eyes widened slightly at her admission, and the realization of what could happen if he were to go any further suddenly dawned on him.

With a mixture of surprise and slight embarrassment, Oscar quickly removes his hand from her back and lets out a soft chuckle. "Oh… well, maybe I better keep my hands to myself then." He glances around the room, ensuring no one else overhears their conversation.

Y/n can't help but smirk at Oscar's reaction, clearly enjoying the effect her words had on him. They both know the risk of his hands exploring further, and the knowledge of her lack of undergarments adds an extra level of intimacy to the moment.

Despite the lighthearted banter between them, there is an undercurrent of tension, an unspoken understanding that they are on the edge of crossing a line in front of the others. But for now, the tease is enough, and they both continue to watch Sienna and Arthur's playful dance routine, each aware of the other's presence in a way that the rest of the room is blissfully oblivious to.

Oscar, sensing the need for a moment of respite, stands up from the couch. He gives Y/n a small smile before excusing himself, claiming that he needs to use the restroom. With a casual stride, he leaves the living room and heads down the hallway towards the bathroom.

With Oscar gone, Y/n decides to join in the fun with Arthur and Sienna. She stands up from the couch and moves over to them, eager to participate in the game.

Arthur and Sienna welcome Y/n to their just dance session, and soon the three of them are engrossed in the game, moving to the rhythm of the music, laughing, and trying to outdo each other with their dance moves.

With the three engaging in their game of Just Dance, Marietta manages to slip out of the living room, swiftly going the same way Oscar went.

As Oscar exits the bathroom, his hands still wet from the water, he shakes his hands, accidentally flicking droplets of water onto Marietta who had suddenly showed up.

"What the-" Marietta says, startled by the drops of water landing on her dress and face.

Marietta, regaining her composure, looks up at Oscar and says, "I need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere private?" Her voice is firm and urgent, her eyes locking onto his with a purpose and intensity.

Oscar is taken aback by Marietta's sudden appearance and her insistence on a private conversation. He hesitates for a moment, wondering what she could possibly want to discuss with him, but eventually nods and gestures towards a closed door nearby that leads to a small study room.

They both enter the study room, Oscar closing the door behind them. The room is small and dark, only illuminated by soft lamplight. The sound of laughter and music from the living room can be heard faintly in the background, which contrasts with the sudden seriousness of the atmosphere in the study room.

Marietta, now alone with Oscar in the small study room, takes a deep breath and gathers her thoughts, her gaze fixed on his face.

"I wanted to talk to you because… because I need to get something off my chest," she begins, her voice softer now but still carrying a hint of determination.

Marietta swallows hard, steeling herself before continuing. "I've been watching you… with Y/n. I've seen how close you two are, how close she is with your family, and it's been… eating away at me."

She looks up at him, her eyes searching his face for a reaction, any sign that he may somehow reciprocate her feelings.

Marietta continues, her voice growing slightly strained as she pours out her feelings. "I've tried to ignore it, to push it down, but I can't anymore. The way you look at her, the way you touch her… it's like she's everything to you."

She pauses, tears welling up in her eyes. "Do you… do you feel anything for me, Oscar? Anything at all?"

Oscar listens to Marietta's confession with a mixture of surprise and sadness. He knows that he can't return her feelings, not when he's completely in love with Y/n. Still, he doesn't want to hurt her, and he chooses his words carefully, trying to be gentle yet firm in his rejection.

"Marietta," he begins, his voice filled with empathy, "I'm flattered that you have feelings for me, but… I can't reciprocate them. Y/n and I are together, and she means the world to me. I care about you as a friend, but that's all it can be."

Marietta's anger rises upon hearing Oscar's rejection, her frustration and jealousy bubbling to the surface.

"What do you mean 'that's all it can be'?" she shoots back, her voice laced with bitterness. "I can be so much more for you, Oscar. I can make you happier, I can make you feel loved in ways she never could."

The words hang heavy in the air between them, the truth in their implication hanging over the room. But no matter how much Marietta protests, no matter what she says, Oscar can't bring himself to see her in that way. His heart, his entire being, belongs to Y/n, and no amount of persuasion or pleading can change that.

Marietta, fueled by her anger and desperation, continues to plead with Oscar, her voice growing louder with each passing moment. "I can be whatever you want me to be, Oscar. I can be your partner, your confidant, your everything. You don't need her; you need me. Don't you see that?"

Just as Oscar opens his mouth to respond, the door to the study room suddenly swings open. Y/n stands in the doorway, surprise and confusion etched on her face as she sees the tense scene before her.

Y/n, lost in the music and enjoying herself with Arthur and Sienna, continues to dance with them, laughing and having a great time. The dance game goes on, the rhythm of the music filling the room and creating a fun and carefree atmosphere.

Arthur, Sienna, and Y/n continue to dance, the competitive spirit between them fueling their movements. They all laugh and cheer each other on as they try to out-perform one another, creating a lively and entertaining sight for anyone watching.

The Just Dance session continues, the three of them getting into the music and dancing with all their energy. The room is filled with laughter, with the occasional cry of "I did it better!" or a cheer from someone who nailed a particularly complicated move. It's a moment of pure fun and relaxation among friends.

Y/n suddenly pauses in her dance, her breath a little heavy from the intense moves. She looks at Sienna and asks, "Hey, I need to use the restroom. Where is it again?"

Sienna replies, "It's just down the hallway to your right."

Y/n nods, thankful for the directions. She excuses herself from the game, knowing that she'll rejoin them in a moment. She makes her way out of the living room, turning right and heading down the hallway towards the bathroom.

As Y/n heads down the hallway, her attention is abruptly drawn to a voice coming from the nearby study room. The sound of Marietta's voice is unmistakably loud and emotional, even through the closed door.

Y/n stops for a moment, a sense of unease settling in the pit of her stomach. What is Marietta doing in there? Who is she talking to? Y/n hesitates for a brief moment before her curiosity gets the better of her, and she quietly moves closer to the study room door, trying to listen in on the conversation inside.

She presses her ear to the door, her heart racing a little with curiosity and a hint of worry. The muffled voices and exchange of words carry faintly from the other side, but it's too indistinct to make out anything specific.

Y/n's heart sinks as she opens the door and finds the most unexpected scene unfolding before her eyes. Marietta, pressed up against Oscar, is kissing him on the lips, her hands gripping his shirt fervently. Oscar caught off guard, is frozen in surprise.

As Y/n turns to run out of the room, her heart is pounding in her chest. She doesn't look back, her mind still trying to process what she's just seen. Just as she leaves, Oscar finally pulls away from Marietta, pushing her off him as the shock of the situation sets in.

Oscar, completely stunned and furious, turns on Marietta once Y/n has left the room. He swears at her, his voice booming with anger. "What the fuck were you thinking, Marietta?! That was absolutely out of line!"

He doesn't wait for a response, his thoughts solely on Y/n and the hurt he knows she must be feeling. Without another word, he dashes out of the room, determined to find her.

In his panic, Oscar urgently turns to Arthur who is still playing Just Dance. "Arthur! Where did Y/n go?!" He desperately looks around for any sign of her, his voice urgent.

Arthur, startled by Oscar's sudden outburst, pauses their game and looks around. "I'm not sure, man. She said she was going to the bathroom, but that was a few minutes ago. Why?"

Despite his panic, Oscar's observant eye catches the sight of something through all the chaos. Glancing towards the door that leads to the garden outside, he sees it left slightly ajar.

"Hey, the door." he points out to Arthur without finishing his sentence. Understanding immediately, Oscar heads towards the door, knowing that Y/n might have gone outside.

Y/n hurries outside, her vision blurred by the tears streaming down her face. She's on the verge of breaking down, the image of Marietta kissing Oscar still fresh in her mind. She feels betrayed and hurt, the weight of the situation bearing down on her as she seeks solace in the solitude of the outdoors.

The cool night air stings her flushed cheeks as she move aimlessly, the dim lamp posts casting long shadows across the garden paths.

Her steps falter as she hears Oscar's voice calling out to her from behind. The sound of his voice only serves to deepen the ache in her heart, a mix of anger and sadness welling inside her. Despite her urge to keep walking, she finds herself pausing, torn between the need to confront him and the desire to just keep running away.

Y/n steps into the small hedge maze, she moves with swift determination. Growing up alongside Sienna and Marietta, she had spent many hours playing in this maze, and it seemed that the memory of it was ingrained in her mind. She navigates through the dark twists and turns, knowing instinctively which path to take to reach the center.

All the while, Oscar follows close behind her, his footsteps audible in the midst of Y/n's sniffles and the quietness of the night. The maze seems isolating and yet eerily intimate, as if nature itself is enclosing them within it's emerald green walls.

The labyrintine path of the hedge maze seems to trap the sounds of their steps, creating and almost eerie effect as they move towards the center. Every few seconds, Y/n can hear Oscar's footsteps behind her, reminding her that he is still there, and they're getting closer to the heart of the maze, which feels more like a trap than a place of refuge.

Y/n increases her pace, desperately trying to lose Oscar in the maze. As her heart races, her tears fall even faster, creating a steady stream down her face. At last, she reaches the heart of the maze, a decent sized, circular clearing where two lone benches and limestone statue reside beneath the shadows of the tall hedges.

As Y/n regains her breath and looks around the clearing, her gaze falls upon the statue in the center. It is a sight that holds beauty and pain - for her at least. The statue depicts Marietta and Sienna's parents dancing on their wedding night, a frozen moment of joy and celebration carved out in stone.

The sight only serves to make Y/n's heartache deepen, the knowledge that the very garden she's standing in is Marietta's only adds another layer of complexity to her emotions.

Y/n curls into a tight ball on the bench, her knees pressed against her chest. The tears fall relentlessly, staining her face and pooling against the material of her dress, leaving dark patches on the otherwise pristine fabric. In this moment, she doesn't care about her appearance or the state of her clothes. It all seems trivial compared to the pain she's feeling.

Her soft sobs echo through the otherwise silent garden, creating a somber atmosphere. The shadows around her seem to wrap around her, almost as if they are trying to comfort her, but their efforts are in vain. The grief and hurt she feels are far too deep to be comforted by mere shadows of the night.

For the next several minutes, Y/n's emotional pain is her reality. Her tears flow freely, and her body shudders with each sob. There's no one else around to bear witness to her pain, only the silent, unfeeling stone of the statue and the endless night that seems to press down on her from all sides.

Y/n's tearful sobs are abruptly interrupted by the sudden appearance of Oscar, materializing from behind the statue like a ghost in the night. She hadn't expected him to reach the center from the opposite entrance, and her eyes widen slightly at his arrival.

Oscar approaches Y/n, his steps cautios and unsure. He's keenly aware of the turmoil he's caused, the hurt he's inflicted, and the sight of her tear-stained face only increases his guilt. He takes a seat next to her on the bench, his movements tentative and careful.

He hesitates as he stands next to the bench, his eyes on Y/n. He waits a beat before he musters up the courage to ask, his voice low and pleading, "Can I sit down too?"

Y/n doesn't respond immediately, her tear-streaked eyes remain fixed on the limestone statue. After a few moments, she gives a slight nod, indicating that he can sit beside her.

Oscar takes her silent gesture as permission, and slowly lowers himself onto the bench next to her. He leaves a small gap between them, respecting her need for space but still wanting to be close enough to talk to her.

Y/n finally speaks up, her voice slightly shaky and raw from crying. "That statue... It's Sienna's mom and dad on their wedding night."

She glances at the statue, her expressio unreadable. The sight that once seemed beautiful now only adds to the pain and hurt she's feeling.

Her words hang in the air between them, the statue's frozen dance of joy and celebration serving as a stark contrast to the despair and heartbreak that now pervades the center of the maze.

Y/n continues, her words laced with a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. "Tio Marcello, Sienna and Mariettas dad, he had this statue commissioned a little while after their wedding. He said it was a token of love and happiness, to forever remember that night..."

Her voice quivers a bit as she continues, the story taking on a ore poignant tone. "Especially because of what happened after... Tio Marcello and Tia Inez- Marietta's mom, got a divorce. Tio found out she was cheating on him with another man. It was a messy divorce, especially with Marietta still a toddler at that time."

Y/n's voice gains a hint of a smile as she continues. "He eventually found Tia Genevieve, and through her, he discovered what true love really means. That's why he had this statue made, to symbolize the love that endures, despite the heartache of the past."

She looks at the statue once more, her eyes tracing the frozen dance of the couple, eternalized in stone. "It's supposed to be inspirational, I guess... a reminder that love can prevail, even in the face of betrayal and pain.

"It's ironic... that it's here, in Marietta's garden," she says, with a bitter edge to her voice. The symbolism of the statue, against the backdrop of Marietta's actions is cruel, barbaric almost.

Y/n's words hang heavy in the air, the irony of the statues location not on either of them. The reminder of love and resilience, standing in the shadow of a betrayal and heartache, feels almost cruel, adding yet another layer of the complex emotions that fills the silence between them.

Oscar, who had been quietly listening, finally breaks the silence. His voice is soft and measured as he looks at Y/n, his eyes holding a mix of regret and determination.

"Y/n," he says, his voice filled with earnest sincerity. "I need to explain. I need to... I know I screwed up, and I need to talk to you. Can you listen to me, please?"

Y/n's gaze slowly turns towards him, her eyes still red and puffy from crying. Her expression is guarded, the pain in her eyes still evident. But she nods, a small gesture that indicates she's willing to hear himout.

Oscar exhales, relief flooding through him at her gesture. He hesitates for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he speaks. The silence between them is tense, the weight of the unspoken words between them hanging in the air like a guillotine.

Finally, Oscar begins, his voice is low and serious. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. I'm sorry for what you saw, for what you must be feeling right now. I can't even imagine..."

Oscar looks at Y/n, his expression is earnest and open. "Y/n, I need you to know that I didn't want that kiss. Marietta kissed me, not the other way around. I didn't want it, I rejected her. I... I love you, Y/n. You have to believe me."

His words are filled with earnestness and sincerity, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. He looks into her eyes, waiting for her to respond, to see if she believes him, to know he isn't lying.

The silence between them is deafening. Oscar's heart beats in his chest, his eyes pleading for Y/n to believe him. The only sound is the distant murmur of the party still going on inside, a stark contract to the quiet, intimate bubble they've created for themselves in the garden.

"Please," he whispers, his voice hoarse. "Please, believe me. I would never... I could never do that you. I love you, Y/n."

Oscar's eyes begin to glisten with tears as he speaks, his voice filled with a raw, emotional intensity. "I love you, Y/n. I've never felt this way about anyone before. My heart, my soul, everything I am is yours. I would never do anything to hurt you, I swear. You have to believe me. Please, I need you to believe me."

His tears fall now, unrestrained, as he pours his heart out to her. He reaches out a trembling hand, wanting to touch her, to hold her, but he hesitates, unsure if she'll allow it.

Y/n rises from the bench, the sudden movement causing Oscar to withdraw his extended hand. He looks at her, his eyes pleading, hoping for some sign, any sign, that she believes him

Y/n stands in front of Oscar, her eyes meeting his. The air is filled with tension, the emotional weight of the moment almost tangible. She doesn't speak, simply looks at him, her expression hard to read.

Oscar's heart pounds in his chest, his breath coming is shallow gasps. He sits there, his eyes locked on hers, to say something, anything. The silence is deafening, the seconds passing by like hours.

He hesitantly reaches out hs hand, his hands hovering a mere inch from her arm, not quite touching, but the intention clear. He wants to hold her, to pull her into his arms and never let her go.

Y/n suddenly moves towards Oscar, her body colliding with his own and pulling him into a tight hug. The unexpected embrace catches him off guard, but he responds immediately, wrapping his arms around her as she falls to her knees.

They sink to the ground, their bodies pressed so close together it's impossible to tell where one ends, and where the other begins. He holds her tightly, his chin resting against her shoulder, feeling the tears of relief dampen his shirt.

"I love you," he whispers, the words half-muffled by her hair. "I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. Please forgive me. I love you so much."

He pulls her even closer, clutching her as if she's the last solid thing in a world that's suddenly tilted on its axis. The sounds of the party from inside the house fade to the background, their world now reduced to this quiet, hidden corner of the garden.

For a moment, they stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms, the world around them completely forgotten. The only sound is their erratic breaths, the only touch their bodies pressed so closely together that it feels like one being.

As they hold each other, he lets out a soft, shuddering breath, the relief so profound it almost hurts. Her words break through the stillness of the night, her voice quiet but firm. "Even if it was on purpose... even if you wanted it... I still would've forgiven you."

Y/n's words, whispered into his ear, hit him like a truck. Even if it had been on purpose, even if he had wanted it, she would still forgive him? The idea is both humbling and incredibly saddening.

The words hang in the air, a profound declaration of love and trust. She speaks as if there's no doubt in her mind that she would forgive him, no matter the circumstances. The implication is clear - her love for him is deep, so boundless, that she'd overlook even the most grievous of transgressions.

A soft, shaky chuckle escapes Oscar as Y/n speaks. He pulls back slightly, looking down at her with a mixture of amusement and awe. "Don't say that baby," he says, his voice still slightly hoarse. "Please, do not say that. You're making me worry for your self-respect if you say things like that.

Y/n melts into Oscar's touch as his fingers gently brush away her tears. She looks up at him, her eyes still damp with tears but a soft smile on her lips. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice so soft it's almost a sigh.

The apology is heartfelt, tinged with a note of regret. It's not just for the tears or the emotional upheaval of the evening, but for the pain, the doubt, and the fear that she'd felt in her heart, even if her head told her all along that Oscar's loyalty was never in question.

Oscar shakes his head, his eyes soft as he gazes down at her. "No, don't apologize," he says, his voice low and sincere. "I'm the one who needs to apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for."

He cups her face gently with both hands, forcing her to look up at him, to see the earnestness in his eyes. "You're perfect, Y/n," he says, his voice filled with a desperate sort of tenderness. "You have every right to be hurt, to feel betrayed, to doubt…"

He continues, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on her cheeks, his touch so infinitely tender it almost hurts. "I would've done the exact same if the roles were reversed. I would be heartbroken, too, if I thought for even a second that you were unfaithful to me."

"But I need you to know," he says softly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "That it will never happen. I will never, ever betray you. I love you more than anything in this world. You are everything to me."

As Y/n nods, agreeing with his words, her tears still fresh on her cheeks, she leans in and kisses him. The kiss is salty, the taste of her tears mixing with the sweetness of her lips, creating an oddly beautiful combination. Oscar responds immediately, eagerly, his hands still cupping her face, his lips pressing against hers with a desperate kind of tenderness.

The kiss deepens, their bodies pressing even closer together, the heat of their bodies and the cold of the night creating a strange but delightful contrast. For a moment, all the stress, all the fear, all the doubt vanishes, leaving only this — this moment of absolute, unadulterated love and connection.

When they finally break apart, they're both a little breathless, a little dazed, a lot in love. The party continues to thump and pulse inside the house, but out here, in this small bubble of intimacy they've created, it's as if the rest of the world has faded completely away.

As the sound of the thunder echoes around them, Y/n glances up at the darkening skies and turns to Oscar. "We should probably get out of the maze," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of trepidation. "It's going to start pouring any minute now."

Oscar nods in agreement, reluctantly breaking their embrace, but still holding her hand tightly in his. They stand up, the reality of the storm outside forcing them back into the present. The maze, which had earlier seemed like a magical, secluded oasis, now feels almost menacing as the storm rolls in.

The rain begins to fall suddenly, fat droplets splattering against the paved path as the storm unleashed its fury upon the night. Y/n grabs Oscar's hand tightly, the cold droplets seeping into their skin as they begin a run for the greenhouse nearby, hoping to find shelter from the storm.

The greenhouse materializes through the heavy rain as they run, its glass walls barely visible in the pitch-black night. They reach the structure moments later, their breathing ragged and chests heaving as they step underneath the shelter of the greenhouse roof.

The greenhouse, once a warm, glass sanctuary, is now dimly lit by the artificial glow of the lights. Y/n finds the light switch and flips it on, casting the inside of the lighthouse in a faint yellow light that reflects off the glass panes. She then closes the door behind them, effectively sealing them inside as the storm rages on outside.

Y/n and Oscar stand for a moment just inside the greenhouse, taking in the sight of each other, the adrenaline from the run mixing with the leftover emotion from their previous conversation. They're both breathing heavily, their clothes slightly damp from the rain, their hearts still racing with the intensity of the recent events.

The tension from the moment earlier and the wild sprint from the maze give way to uncontrollable laughter as they stand there in the greenhouse. The laughter mixes with the sound of the rain against the glass, creating a strangely beautiful and almost surreal atmosphere.

They're both bent over slightly, clutching their stomachs as giggles and laughter escape them. They're not sure if it's the absurdity of the situation they've found themselves in, the relief from the earlier emotional upheaval, or just the sheer ridiculousness of running through a storm only to end up in a greenhouse.

Y/n, still giggling a bit, spots a chair near a metal outdoor table and sits down, the laughter now slowly subsiding to soft chuckles. She leans back in the chair, the hard lines of the metal contrasting with the soft lines of her body. Her eyes are still sparkling with humor and something else - maybe affection, maybe relief - as she looks up at Oscar.

Oscar walks over, his steps loose and relaxed after the sudden burst of laughter. He moves to the side of the table, hoisting himself up to sit on its surface, facing Y/n. There's a lazy, easy smile on his face, a stark contrast to the tension from earlier.

The space around them feels almost intimate in the dimly lit greenhouse, the sound of the rain outside creating a sort of soft, rhythmic counterpoint to the beating of their hearts. They sit in silence for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say, but both just taking in each other's presence.

Oscar reaches out towards her, brushing some wayward strands of hair away from her forehead. The gesture is tender, and gentle, as he pushes the damp locks away from her face. The pads of his fingers linger against her skin, the touch so familiar and loving, yet still sparking a small spark of electricity.

In the quiet, intimate atmosphere of the greenhouse, the simple act of tidying her hair suddenly feels like the most intimate thing. His fingers trace the line of her jaw, as if committing its curve to memory.

His gaze travels over her face, taking in every feature, every line, every tiny detail. In the faint light, he sees the traces of her tears, but also the flush of her cheeks, the glimmer in her eyes. She looks so beautiful, so vulnerable, and so completely his in this moment.

Oscar leans in, his eyes still locked on hers. The kiss is soft, gentle, filled with all the love and relief he feels in that moment. His hand, still close to her face, moves downwards, cupping her chin, holding her face in place so he can kiss her thoroughly, desperately.

It's as if all the fear, all the doubt, all the uncertainty from earlier has vanished. Now, there's only this – the taste of her lips, the heat of her skin, the sound of her breath mixing with his. The greenhouse becomes a cocoon, sealing them off from the storm outside, and the rest of the world.

Their kiss breaks, leaving them both a little breathless once more. A soft, giddy laugh escapes Y/n, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of joy, affection, and residual laughter. She looks like a teenager who's just had her first kiss, with flushed cheeks and a wide, unashamed smile on her lips.

Oscar watches her, the sight of her joy and innocence filling him with a fond, almost protective kind of warmth. There's a softness in his eyes as he looks at her, his own lips curving into a smile at her reaction.

"You look like a high schooler who's just had her first kiss," he teases, the amusement clear in his voice even as his look remains incredibly fond.

Y/n, seemingly oblivious to the slight edge of huskiness in his voice, grins wider, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Do I?" she asks, her tone faux-innocent, her cheeks still a little pink.

Y/n's gaze drifts towards the corner of the greenhouse, catching sight of an old-fashioned record player sitting there. Her eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, the old piece of technology somewhat out of place in the modern setting of the greenhouse.

Her eyes linger on it for a moment, the sudden appearance of the record player piquing her curiosity. She looks back at Oscar, a question forming on her lips. "Is that thing still working?" she asks, nodding in the direction of the record player.

Oscar follows her gaze to the record player, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Only one way to find out," he replies, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

He hops down from the table, his footsteps light and almost silent on the tiled floor of the greenhouse. He crosses over to the record player, crouching down to examine it. He gives it a light tap, as if to see if it'll magically come to life.

Y/n lets out a soft, slightly tipsy giggle as she watches Oscar tinker with the record player. The effect of the alcohol in her system is still quite apparent, adding a giggly, almost carefree vibe to her behavior.

She stands up, her steps a bit less steady than usual from the earlier alcohol consumption. She moves over to where Oscar is crouched beside the record player, joining him in his inspection of the old piece of machinery.

Y/n, a little giggly but very much curious, bends down beside Oscar and rummages through the collection of records next to the player. After a moment, she pulls out a worn vinyl record, its cover slightly faded but still clearly displaying the title "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis Presley.

She holds it up, her eyes dancing with excitement as she shows it to Oscar. "Look what I found," she says, her voice tinged with an almost childlike glee.

The record is old, and clearly well-loved, and it gives off a certain nostalgia that's fitting for the greenhouse setting. The song choice is ironic, given the events of the evening, but in a way, it feels almost prophetic.

The lyrics of the song, a classic declaration of undying love, seem to echo the emotions they've been going through the entire night. It's as if the universe is playing a game, leaving hints and signs in the most unexpected places.

The song, in its simplicity and sincerity, feels like a perfect soundtrack for the night. The rain outside is still falling, the room is still dim, and yet, the mood inside the greenhouse is almost strangely romantic.

Oscar takes in the sight of the record and the song title, a slow smile spreading across his face. He glances at Y/n, the irony of the song choice not lost on him. "Elvis, huh?" he asks, his voice laced with humor and affection.

Y/n grins, the smile on her face wide and bright. "Can't help falling in love, right?" she quips, her words a little slurred but filled with a joyous, almost drunken honesty.

Oscar snorts out a laugh, the sound a mixture of amusement and fondness. "Very fitting," he replies, taking the record from her and looking it over.

Oscar takes the record from Y/n and gently places it onto the player. For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of the rain and the soft, almost expectant silence inside the greenhouse. Then, a soft crackling sound fills the air, the old record player coming to life after a beat.

A second later, the soft, melodic tones of "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis Presley start to fill the greenhouse.

Wise men say, only fools rush in But I can't help falling with you.

Oscar, with a soft, almost tender smile on his face, turns to Y/n and holds out a hand to her. "Care to dance?" he asks, his voice smooth and silky. The soft, romantic tones of the song in the background seem like the perfect invitation.

Y/n, her eyes still sparkling with a tipsy sort of glee, grins from ear to ear. She places her hand in his, her fingers fitting perfectly with his. "I thought you'd never ask," she teases, her words slurring just a bit but filled with unabashed anticipation.

Take my hand, take my whole life too, For I can't help falling in love with you.

Oscar pulls her closer, his other hand coming around to rest on the fabric of her back. She molds herself against him, their bodies pressing against each other rhythmically as they start to sway to the music.

Like a river flows, surely to the sea, Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be

The atmosphere inside the greenhouse is now almost dreamlike, the dim light, the soft rain, the old record player, and the soft music creating a scene like out of a movie. They dance together, their movements slow, intimate, their bodies responding to each other as if in a well-rehearsed routine.

There's no fancy footwork, no complicated steps. They're just swaying back and forth, the music guiding their movements. Yet, in this simple act, there's a sort of raw, vulnerable intimacy. They're not just dancing – they're holding each other, feeling each other, silently saying all the things they can't quite voice in that moment.

The lyrics of the song float around them, wrapping them in a cocoon of tender sentimentality. The words "For I can't help falling in love with you" seem to echo in the air as they spin around in slow, languorous movements.

They're not exactly graceful, occasionally tripping over each other's feet. But they laugh it off, the clumsiness of the moment adding to the charm. The song reaches its crescendo, the chorus coming back for another round. Oscar pulls her just a bit closer, his arms holding her tighter as they dance beneath the dim light.

The world outside could've fallen apart, and they wouldn't have noticed. Right now, this moment, this dance, is the only thing that matters. The rain continues to fall outside, the greenhouse protecting them from the storm, and inside, they're dancing like there's no tomorrow, their bodies pressed together, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating in sync.

The song reaches its end, the final notes of "Can't Help Falling in Love" trailing off softly. The record player clicks, indicating the end of the song, and the greenhouse is silent again, save for the sound of the rain outside and their soft breaths, a little heavier from the intensity of the dance.

They stand there, their arms still wrapped around each other, not quite ready to let go just yet. They're both a little breathless from the dance, their bodies close, their heartbeats still a little faster than usual. Y/n remains pressed against him, her cheek against his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt warm and comforting.

Oscar gently releases Y/n from his arms, reluctantly letting go of the intimacy of the moment. He carefully takes the vinyl record and places it back in its place among the others. As he does so, he glances back at Y/n, the sight of her still a little flush and out of breath from the dance stirring something protective and affectionate inside him.

The record is placed back, and the vinyl collection is neatly arranged once more. Oscar turns back to Y/n, his eyes sweeping over her, taking in the sight of her tousled hair and slightly disheveled state. There's a soft, almost tender smile on his lips as he steps closer to her, his hands itching to reach out and touch her again.

The space between them feels charged now, the recent dance leaving them both feeling a bit raw and vulnerable. Oscar takes another step closer, his eyes locked on her face, drinking in the details. The dim light of the greenhouse casts shadows across her face, making her look both vulnerable and incredibly beautiful at the same time.

Y/n looks out at the rain, which is still falling heavily, and then back at Oscar. "What should we do now?" she asks, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "It's still raining too hard to go back."

Oscar follows her gaze out the greenhouse door, peering out into the rain-soaked night. The rain is still falling with a steady intensity, the sound of it creating a soothing yet continuous white noise. He turns his attention back to her, his expression thoughtful for a moment before a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Looks like we're stuck here a bit longer," he notes, leaning against the table and crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes remain on her, taking in the sight of her, as he seems to contemplate something.

There's a certain sort of tension in the air now, the knowledge that they're trapped there together for a while longer giving the situation a new quality. The rain continues its monotonous pitter-patter against the glass panes, creating a sort of isolating atmosphere that feels almost intimate.

Oscar watches Y/n, the silence between them almost a tangible thing. The rain outside and the enclosed space of the greenhouse make the atmosphere feel secluded, almost surreal, as if they're the only two people in the world right now.

The sounds of the rain and the relative dimness of the light create a cocoon-like feeling, cutting them off from the rest of the world. Oscar's eyes remain fixed on Y/n, studying her almost, his gaze occasionally flickering down to her lips before returning to her eyes.

The moment stretches on, the silence both comforting and slightly charged. Oscar looks like he has something to say, but he remains silent, seemingly wrestling with some sort of internal debate. Y/n feels his gaze on her, his eyes lingering on her face, her lips, and occasionally on her hair.

After a beat, Oscar finally breaks the silence, his voice dropping to a low, almost gravelly tone. "You know, this rain is quite something," he mused, his words a barely-veiled attempt to keep the conversation going, to fill the silence that was settling between them.

Y/n grins, a breathless but amused laugh escaping her. "You're trying to make small talk, aren't you?" she responds, the playfulness in her tone clearly showing that she's not fooled by his attempt.

Oscar feigns innocence, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Me, trying to make small talk? Never," he replies, his tone deliberately casual, but his eyes betraying his amusement.

Y/n laughs again, her eyes sparkling with a mix of humor and affection. She knows he's bullshitting, and he knows she knows. But it's part of their bantering dynamic, and it's almost comforting in its familiarity.

The rain continues to fall outside, the sound of it providing a sort of background white noise to their conversation. Oscar regards her with a half-smirk of playful resignation, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and something a little darker, more intense.

They move over to the chairs, their movements somewhat less than graceful due to the alcohol in their systems. They both sink into the seats, a mutual sigh escaping them as they get comfortable. The rain continues to fall outside, the pitter-patter of the water against the glass adding a cozy, relaxing sort of atmosphere inside the greenhouse.

Y/n, still a bit tipsy but feeling relaxed and comfortable, looks around the greenhouse, admiring the lush plants and cozy set-up. "I've always wanted to have a greenhouse," she confesses, her tone a mix of wistfulness and satisfaction. "I love being surrounded by plants and nature. It's so calming."

Y/n's expression softens, her gaze drifting around the greenhouse as she thinks about her past. "This greenhouse, and the hedge maze outside, are honestly where some of the happiest moments in my life have taken place," she says, her voice slightly hushed, as if she's lost in memories.

Y/n snorts out a laugh, a fond smile on her face as she recalls a memory from her childhood. "You know, this is gonna sound silly, but that hedge maze outside is where Sienna asked me to be her best friend when we were five years old," she says, amusement and nostalgia mixing in her tone.

"We were just a couple of little kids, running around in that maze, giggling and chasing each other. She suddenly stopped, turned to me, and very seriously said 'I want you to be my best friend.' I remember thinking she said it with such gravitas, as if it was the most important thing in the world," she adds, her eyes going a little soft as she reminisces.

Y/n's expression turns a bit sadder now, but there's also a note of sweetness in her eyes as she recalls another memory. "And this greenhouse was where my dad danced with me the night before my 18th birthday," she says, her tone tinged with a mix of nostalgia and melancholy. "He said it was because he wanted to have some time alone with his little girl before she turned into a lady."

She pauses, a soft smile on her face. "We danced to some old, cheesy love songs, and he jokingly called me his princess. I remember feeling so grown up, special… and a little scared about what turning 18 would mean," she confesses, the memory painting a picture of a younger, more innocent version of herself.

Y/n's expression softens further, a tender, almost affectionate smile playing on her lips. "And here I am, dancing with the love of my life," she says, her words filled with an underlying note of gratitude and irony. It's a moment that feels like both a bittersweet memory and a present-day reality.

She locks eyes with Oscar, a flood of emotions clear in her gaze — affection, admiration, a hint of vulnerability. The greenhouse feels like a sort of sacred space, filled with memories and emotions that are both poignant and cherished.

Oscar smiles at Y/n, his eyes reflecting a mix of affection and curiosity. He seems to mull over a question for a moment before finally voicing it, his tone inquisitive but casual. "Can I ask you something?" he asks, his gaze drifting to her face. He waits for her to nod before continuing, "How are you and Sienna connected?"

Y/n nods, her expression taking on a nostalgic look as she explains. "Our fathers are best friends. They grew up together, just like Sienna and I did," she says, her voice carrying a note of familiarity and closeness. "So, naturally, our families are super close. We've practically grown up together. She's more a sister than a best friend at this point."

There's a fondness in her tone, a clear affection and connection with Sienna that goes deeper than just friendship. The knowledge that their families are tied together - their fathers being practically brothers - gives their relationship an extra layer of significance and history.

Y/n adds, her voice dropping to a quiet, almost reflective tone. "And you know, my mom moved to Australia to study high school, that's where she met your mom and all that. Then my mom went back to Monaco to study business, and my parents met in college. They eventually moved together to Italy."

Her words describe a life that's been somewhat chaotic but also filled with connections and meaningful moments. It's a life that's full of stories and history, a life that's shaped her in ways even she might not fully understand.

Y/n continues, a faraway look in her eyes as she recalls the events. "We only stayed here until I was 10, then we moved to Monaco because of some family issues on my mother's side," she says, her voice almost whispering the words, like they're part of a half-forgotten memory.

The mention of 'family problems' stirs up a myriad of unspoken implications, perhaps hinting at complexities and hardships in her family history.

Y/n continues, her voice taking on a more light-hearted tone. "When we moved into our new house in Monaco, it turns out that Arthur and Sienna are cousins, but neither of us- the children, knew till our families all ended up in Italy."

She chuckles a bit, the coincidence of it all adding an almost comedic element to the tale. Families, friends, and history are all interconnected in unforeseen and amusing ways.

The mention of families mixing together, with Arthur and Sienna being cousins, adds another layer to their familial web. It's a reminder that families can be as complex as they are close-knit, and sometimes, it takes moving countries to reveal these hidden connections. The humor in discovering such a connection after their move adds a touch of hilarity to the situation.

Y/n suddenly snaps out of her reminiscent state, her eyes widening slightly as she realizes how much she's said. A sheepish expression appears on her face, and she apologizes, her voice a tad embarrassed. "Oh, I'm sorry," she says, a small, self-conscious laugh escaping her. "I got a bit carried away there. Sorry for rambling so much."

Oscar, sensing her slight embarrassment, quickly reassures her. "No, it's fine," he says, his tone warm and encouraging. "Keep talking. I like hearing your voice."

His words are a testament to his interest in what she's saying, but also his desire to keep their conversation going, to keep learning more about her - her past, her thoughts, her feelings. It's a small, but meaningful gesture of interest and intimacy between them.

Y/n smiles, her embarrassment fading away a bit at his reassurance. She appreciates his interest and the fact that he actually enjoys listening to her. It gives her an unexpected boost of confidence, making her feel more comfortable and at ease.

Y/n, encouraged by his words and the comfortable atmosphere between them, continues talking. She picks up where she left off, her voice soft and thoughtful as she dives back into her recollection.

As she speaks, the rain continues to fall in a steady but less aggressive rhythm outside, adding a soothing soundtrack to their conversation.

Y/n observes the rain outside, noticing that it's started to lighten up a bit. She sighs, her expression showing a mix of reluctance and knowing. "Looks like the rain's starting to let up," she says, a note of resignation in her voice. "We should probably head back."

There's a pause, both of them seeming to acknowledge that their private sanctuary in the greenhouse is coming to an end. They'll have to return to the hustle and bustle of the party, though they both seem a little reluctant to leave the peaceful solitude they've found.

At Y/n's suggestion, Oscar starts to rise from his seat, pushing off the table and standing up. He stretches, his body a bit stiff from sitting in the same position for quite a while. As he straightens up, he runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it a bit.

As they both make their way towards the door, Oscar, ever the gentleman, opens it for her, gesturing for her to walk through first. He waits until she's outside before following her, stepping out into the night air.

Once outside, they find the rain has indeed lessened, though it's still not completely stopped. The air is cool and crisp, a welcome respite from the stifling atmosphere inside the greenhouse. The sounds of the party have lessened somewhat, but there's still a buzz of activity in the distance.

They walk side by side, their hands intertwined as they make their way back to the main house. They walk slowly, their pace leisurely, neither in a hurry to return to the party. The night air is cool against their skin, and the distant sounds of the party provide a faint, almost soothing background noise.

As they walk back towards the house, Oscar looks over at her and asks, "Do you want to go home?" His voice is casual, but his gaze is searching, hoping for a favorable response.

Oscar suggests, a hint of genuine concern laced in his words. "You can always ask your father if we can go home. You can say you're not feeling well."

Y/n pondered the thought for a moment, her expression contemplating. Oscar's suggestion was not bad; it would certainly explain their early exit from the party. But she didn't want to cause a scene or make her father worry unnecessarily.

Still, the more she thought about it, the more the idea seemed appealing. She did feel a bit drained and was slightly tipsy. But there was also a part of her that didn't want the night to end just yet.

After a moment of hesitation, Y/n nodded. "Sure," she said, her voice a bit reluctant but determined. "I'll ask my dad if we can go home."

As they enter the living room, it's clear that they've both been caught in the rain. Their clothes are a bit damp, leaving small droplets of water on the floor. The sounds of the party that were previously muffled by the rain now become clear again, the hum of conversation and soft music filling the air.

They make their way into the dining room, the hum of conversation filling their ears as they enter. The adults, including Y/n's parents, are still engaged in their discussions, wine glasses in hand and faces flushed with the effects of alcohol.

Y/n's gaze automatically drifts towards her father, who is sitting at the table, surrounded by other adults. He's engaged in conversation, sipping from a wine glass, looking every bit the successful businessman he is. Noticing her and Oscar's entry, her father looks up, a brief glance at their soaked clothes and Y/n's face giving away her slightly tipsy state.

He raises an eyebrow in question, his gaze flickering over Y/n and Oscar. Seeing their drenched state and Y/n's tipsy appearance, it's clear he's expecting an explanation.

Y/n clears her throat, her heart beating a tad bit faster under her father's scrutinizing gaze. She steps forward, her eyes holding his for a moment before speaking. "Dad," she starts, her voice steady despite the slight buzz she's feeling, "I'm not feeling too well. Can Oscar and I go home?"

Her father regards her quietly for a moment, assessing her state. His expression doesn't give away his thoughts, but his eyes seem to linger on her flushed cheeks and slightly glassy eyes. Everyone else's conversation has gone quiet, and several pairs of eyes are now on them.

After a moment, her father nods, his expression slightly stern. "Alright," he says, his voice loud enough for the others to hear. "You two can head home. Drive safely, and make sure to text me when you get there, Y/n."

The other adults offer their goodbyes and well-wishes, a mixture of amusement and concern in their faces. Y/n's mother, a bit tipsy herself, pats Y/n on the cheek a little too hard, her words slurring slightly. "Be careful, love."

Y/n nods at her mother's words, forcing a thin smile on her face. She feels Oscar's presence beside her, his hand finding hers once again, an unspoken comfort in the gesture. They take a last moment to say goodbye to the adults, before finally making their way towards the exit.

As they head towards the exit, Y/n spots Marietta, their eyes meeting across the room. Despite the distance, there's something in Marietta's gaze that makes Y/n pause for a brief moment. It's a look that's a mix of curiosity and something else that Y/n can't quite decipher. The moment is over almost as quickly as it began, and Y/n and Oscar step outside, leaving the party behind.

As they approach the car, Oscar dutifully opens the passenger side door for her, a gallant gesture that's becoming familiar between them. Y/n smiles at him, a little bit of a tipsy blush on her face, appreciating his chivalry.

She gets into the car, the soft interior enveloping her in its familiar comfort. As Oscar closes the door behind her, she leans back against the leather seat, feeling a wave of fatigue mixed with the lingering effects of the alcohol.

She watches as Oscar walks around the car to the driver's side. It's a sight she's seen countless times before, but there's a sort of domestic intimacy about it that she finds oddly soothing in her slightly inebriated state.

Once Oscar gets into the car, he starts the engine, the low hum of the vehicle breaking the silence. He glances over at her, his expression a mix of concern and affection. "You okay?" he asks, his voice betraying a slight worry.

Y/n nods, her eyelids heavy and just a little bit unsteady. She offers him a small smile, trying to appear more put together than she feels at the moment. "I'm fine," she assures him, her words a tad bit slurred but mostly coherent.

Oscar looks at her for a moment longer, his gaze searching her face for any sign of discomfort. After a moment, he seems somewhat satisfied, his eyes turning back to the road. "Alright," he says, his tone gentle, "just relax, okay? We'll be home soon."

Y/n nods again, her eyelids feeling heavier by the minute. She lets out a soft sigh, the hum of the engine and the soft light of the street lamps outside creating a drowsy atmosphere in the car.

She pulls out her phone from her purse, the screen lighting up her face in the darkened car. Her movements are a bit sluggish, and her alcohol-impaired brain takes a bit longer to process simple actions. She starts to scroll through her phone, her fingers gliding across the screen as she absently checks her notifications.

She manages to muster enough coordination to connect her phone to the car's Bluetooth speakers, her eyes still flicking to Oscar's face every now and then. A moment later, music begins to play through the speakers, filling the car with a soft, sultry rhythm.

As she's scrolling through her phone, she suddenly feels a warmth on her thigh. It takes her a moment to realize it's Oscar's hand, his fingers gently brushing against the bare skin under her dress, sending a shiver down her spine. Her eyes widen slightly, her heart rate picking up as the realization sinks in, the touch both unexpected and not unwelcome.

The sudden feeling of his hand on her skin, the warmth of his touch against her bare thigh, is a sharp contrast to the coolness of the night air that wafts in from outside. She glances over at him, his gaze focused on the road ahead, but there's a slight smirk on his lips, a hint that he knows exactly what he's doing.

The realization that he's intentionally trying to tease her, the audacity of him to do this while he's driving, combined with the alcohol-clouded state, makes her feel a mix of irritation and a strange sort of arousal. She wants to say something, to protest, but the words get stuck in her throat, the touch of his hand on her thigh making thinking difficult.

Y/n manages to summon the presence of mind to speak, her words a mixture of playfulness and feigned annoyance. "Really Oz?" she says, her voice a tad bit breathless. The hand on her thigh continues to move, his thumb lightly tracing small circles against her skin. Oscar glances over at her, that smirk still on his lips.

"What?" he asks, his tone innocent, though the look in his eyes tells her he knows exactly what he's doing. "I'm just driving," he chuckles, his hand giving a gentle squeeze.

The subtle movement his hand makes, the way his fingers seem to be purposefully tracing a path up and down her inner thigh, serves as a constant, distracting reminder of his presence. It's clear that he's enjoying her reaction, the way her breath hitches a little, the way she tries to keep her composure.

Despite her efforts to appear unruffled, the effect his touch is having on her is undeniable. Her body betrays her, the warm wave of desire pooling in her core, her mind fuzzy from the alcohol and the distraction of his touch. It's a game they often play, a silent push and pull of control and surrender, and tonight, it seems like he's determined to have his way.

He occasionally glances over at her, his eyes glittering with a mix of amusement and desire. The car glides through the quiet streets, the only sounds are the hum of the engine and their heavy breathing. His hand never leaves her thigh, his touch both a comfort and a source of delicious torment.

After what feels like an eternity, the car finally reaches the gates of Y/n's house. The imposing iron gates swing open quietly at the press of a button, and the car glides into the property, the headlights illuminating the path leading to the house.

As they pull into the driveway, the rain chooses that moment to start pouring heavily, the sound of it hitting the windows and roof of the car creating a soothing symphony. It almost seems like it's the only noise in the world, the silence inside the car adding to the intimate atmosphere.

Oscar parks the car, but it's slightly far from the house due to the crowded cars in front of the entrance. The rain beats against the windows, the soft tapping sound combining with the hum of the car's engine.

"Looks like we'll have to walk a bit," he says, his voice low and quiet. The rain is still pouring, the droplets hitting the ground and bouncing off the pavement, creating little streams that run down the driveway.

Y/n nods, the rain not really a deterrent in her slightly tipsy state. "I don't mind," she says, her voice a bit breathless. Despite her nonchalance, she's keenly aware of how her dress is sticking to her skin due to the dampness of the rain.

As the rain continues to pour, Oscar and Y/n step out of the car, both of them immediately getting drenched under the rain. The water soaks through their clothes, making the thin fabric cling to their bodies. Despite the cold, the rain seems to have the opposite effect, the feeling of the water on their skin adding an element of sensuality to the atmosphere.

With the rain falling so heavily, there's not really any time to waste. They quickly make their way to the front door, both of them running a little faster than usual, their clothes sticking to them like a second skin. The rain pelts down on them, the cold water mixing with the adrenaline of the moment.

They reach the door, both of them a bit breathless, their hair dripping with rain. Y/n fumbles with her keys for a moment, her hands shaky from both the rain and the alcohol. Finally, she manages to unlock the door, and they quickly step inside.

Despite the cold and wetness, Y/n can't help but giggle a little as she puts her purse on the table and takes out her phone. The alcohol is still humming in her veins, making her feel a bit more carefree than usual. She gives her phone a distracted glance, her attention more focused on the state of her clothes and the feeling of the rain-soaked clothes sticking to her skin.

Y/n fishes for her phone in her purse, her fingers fumbling a bit from the cold and her slightly tipsy state. Once she finds it, she quickly types a text message to her father.

"Hi Papa, we're back at home. We made it safe," she types, her words a little slurred but relatively coherent.

As she's in the middle of sending the text, she suddenly feels a pair of arms wrapping around her from behind, and a pair of warm lips brushing against the exposed side of her neck. The unexpected touch makes her gasp in surprise, the phone almost slipping from her grip.

Oscar moves his lips to her ear, whispering his words directly into it, the warmth of his breath sending little shivers down her spine. "You look beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse with desire.

His hand slides down her waist, his touch light yet possessive, as if marking his territory. He pulls her closer to him, his body pressed against hers so that she can feel the heat and hardness of him against her.

"You have no idea how you look right now," he continues, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "Dripping wet in that dress, your hair all wet and messy," he growls, his hand gripping her hip, his fingers slightly digging into her flesh through the fabric.

His words send a rush of heat through her, the combination of his touch and his words making it hard to think straight. She can feel her body responding to him instinctively, her skin prickling with desire, her breath coming in short gasps.

She leans back against him, her head lolling slightly to the side to give him more access to her neck, silently egging him on with her body. His touch is both tender and demanding, his words a mixture of praise and need.

Y/n turns around in the circle of his arms, her body still flush against his, her wet dress sticking to his shirt, creating an intimate and possessive barrier between them. Without hesitation, she kisses him, her lips meeting his in a heated and demanding embrace.

As she jumps up, wrapping her legs around his waist, he responds instantly, his hands automatically going to her thighs, supporting her weight and pulling her closer to him. The feeling of her body pressed against his, the heat and weight of her in his arms, it's all overwhelming and unbelievably arousing.

The kiss continues, their bodies pressed so tightly together that they seem to have melded into one, their mouths devouring each other hungrily. His hands run up and down her thighs, the feel of her skin, still slightly damp from the rain, driving him wild.

He takes a few steps back, leaning against the nearest wall, supporting Y/n as he does. Their mouths continue to move against each other, the kiss deep and consuming. His hands pull her closer, his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs as if he could never get her close enough.

After what feels like an eternity, Oscar finally breaks the kiss, his breath coming fast and harsh against her lips. He takes a moment to catch his breath, his hands still holding her against him.

"Your room or mine?" he whispers hoarsely, his voice a low rumble against her ear.

Y/n manages to find her voice, her words coming out a little breathless. "My room," she says, a hint of neediness in her tone. "We already did it in yours."

Oscar carries her all the way upstairs, his hands still gripping her thighs, the feeling of her body against his making it hard for him to focus on anything else. The trip up the stairs seems to take forever, each step bringing them closer to the privacy and intimacy of her room.

Y/n moaned, her hands tangling in Oscar's hair, pulling him closer. Their bodies pressed together, their clothes doing little to hide their arousal. Oscar lightly kicks the door to her bedroom, his impatience and need for her getting the better of him

He sets Y/n down gently on her feet, his hands never leaving her body. He steps back, his eyes raking over her, drinking in her curves, visible through her damp dress.

Oscar reaches behind her, finding the zipper of her dress. Slowly, he pulled it down, his knuckles brushing against her spine, sending shivers down her body. The dress falls open, revealing her bare skin, her breath hitching as the cool air hits her.

Oscar's eyes darken with desire, his hands reaching for the straps of her dress, pushing them off her shoulders, letting the material slide down her body, pooling at her feet.

Y/n stood before Oscar, her dress discarded, her body on full display. Her bare breasts rose and fell with each breath, her nipples hardened peaks, begging for touch. Her white lace panties were damp, the evidence of her arousal visible.

His eyes roamed over her, his gaze hungry, his body hungry with need. "You're beautiful Y/n," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Y/n blushed, her hands reaching for Oscar, pulling him closer. "And you're overdressed," she whispered, her voice a sultry whisper.

Oscar laughed, his hands moving to his shirt, unbuttoning it quickly. He shrugged it off, tossing it aside, his chest bare, his muscles defined.

Y/n's eyes widened, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Much better," she murmured, her hands reaching for him, her fingers tracing the lines of his abdomen.

Y/n kicked her dress aside, breaking the kiss, her eyes filled with desire. She pushed Oscar back, causing him to sit down on the edge of the bed. She followed, dropping to her knees in front of him.

Her hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it, her fingers deft as she unbuttoned his pants, lowering the zipper. She looked up at Oscar, her eyes filled with hunger. "I want to taste you," she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper.

Y/n leaned in, her breath hot against Oscar's length, her tongue darting out to lick the tip, tasting the bead of pre-cum. She smirked, her eyes meeting his. "You like that, don't you, Oscar?" she teased, her voice a low purr.

Oscar groaned, his hands fisting the sheets beneath him. "Yes, Y/n, please," he begged, his voice thick with need.

Y/n chuckled, her fingers wrapping around his base, guiding him to her mouth. She took him in, her lips stretching around his width, her tongue swirling around his shaft. She took him deeper, her throat relaxing, taking him whole, her nose pressing against his abdomen.

Oscar let out a low moan, his hands reaching for Y/n's hair, guiding her movements. "God, Y/n, you look so pretty taking my cock in your mouth," he praised, his voice filled with desire.

Y/n hummed, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through Oscar. She began to move, her head bobbing, her tongue working in tandem with her lips, creating a rhythm that had Oscar's toes curling.

His hands tightened in her hair, his hips bucking slightly, his body responding to her ministrations. "That feels so good, baby," he groaned, his voice strained.

Y/n continued, her movements becoming more enthusiastic, her suction increasing. She could feel Oscar's body tensing, his release approaching.

Suddenly, pulled her off him, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Stop, Y/n, I don't want to cum like this," he said, his voice firm but gentle.

Y/n pouted, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. "Why not?" she asked, her voice somewhat complaining.

Oscar smiled, his hands reaching for Y/n, pulling her up onto the bed with him. "Because I want to cum inside you," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Oscar moved Y/n, gently laying her down on her back, his eyes filled with desire as he looked at Y/n. "But first, I want to watch you," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Play with yourself for me, Y/n. Show me how you want to be touched."

"Show me what you like, Y/n. Touch yourself for me," Oscar urged, his voice thickening with desire. "I want to see you pleasure yourself, baby."

Y/n bit her lip, her cheeks flushing at Oscar's request. But the desire in his eyes was too much to resist. She lay back, her hands sliding down her body, her fingers hooking into the sides of her panties, slowly pulling them off.

Oscar watched, his eyes darkening with desire as Y/n stripped for him. He stood at the end of the bed, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it slowly, matching the rhythm of Y/n's movements.

Y/n spread her legs, her fingers finding her center, rubbing slow circles over her clit. She let out a soft moan, her back arching, her body responding to her touch.

Oscar's grip tightened, his strokes becoming more urgent. "That's it, Y/n, show me how you like it," he urged, his voice thick with need.

Y/n's fingers plunged into her depths, her moans growing louder, her body writhing. "Oscar, I want you," she gasped, her eyes meeting his. "I want you to fuck me, hard. I want you to fuck me until I can't remember my own name."

She switched to rubbing her clit, her movements frantic, her body chasing its release. "I want to feel you, Oscar, fill me up, make me yours. I want you to fuck me senseless."

Y/n's breathing grew heavier, her fingers moving faster, her body tensing. "Oscar, please," she begged, her voice desperate. "I need you inside me, now. I can't wait any longer. Please, fuck me, make me cum, make me scream your name."

Her body convulsed, her orgasm approaching. "Oscar, please, I need you," she pleaded, her eyes filled with desperation.

Oscar suddenly grabbed Y/n's wrists, pulling her hands away from her pussy. She let out a cry of frustration, her body arching, seeking release.

"No," Oscar said firmly, his voice a low growl. "The only way you're going to cum tonight is by my mouth, my fingers, or my cock. Understand?"

Y/n whimpered, her body trembling with need. "Yes, I understand," she whispered, her eyes filled with desire and frustration.

Oscar smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "Good girl," he praised, his voice soft. He picked up Y/n's discarded panties, holding them up to her face. "Now, be quiet for me, alright? Or else I'll have to find something to keep that pretty mouth of yours busy."

He held the panties near her lips, his eyebrow raised in warning. "Understood?"

Y/n nodded frantically, her eyes wide. "Yes, Oz," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She pressed her lips together, her body trembling with anticipation and excitement.

Oscar grinned, pleased with Y/n's compliance. He positioned himself between her legs, his hands gripping her thighs, lifting them up, opening her to him.

He leaned in, his tongue finding her center, licking her from bottom to top. Y/n let out a soft moan, her body jerking, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her.

Oscar looked up, his eyes meeting hers. "Remember our deal," he reminded her, his voice a low warning.

Y/n nodded, biting her lip to keep from making noise. Oscar smiled, his tongue delving into her depths, his fingers joining in, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come.

She struggled to remain silent, her moans building, her body writhing under Oscar's expert touch. She bit her lip, her nails digging into her palms, trying to keep quiet.

Oscar could sense her struggle, his tongue and fingers working in tandem, bringing her closer to the edge. Just as Y/n thought she couldn't take it anymore, Oscar stopped, his head lifting, his eyes meeting hers.

"Be quiet, Y/n," he warned, his voice stern. "Or else."

Y/N let out a shaky breath, her body still tingling from Oscar's touch. "I'm sorry" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. She bit her lip, her eyes filled with determination. "I'll be good, I promise."

Oscar smiled, satisfied with Y/n's apology. He lowered his head, his tongue finding her clit, sucking it into his mouth, his fingers plunging into her depths.

Y/n let out a soft gasp, her body arching, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. She bit her lip, her eyes squeezed shut, determined to stay quiet.

Just as Oscar's fingers found that sweet spot inside Y/n, she let out a loud moan, her body convulsing. Oscar immediately stopped, looking up at her with a disapproving glare.

"Naughty girl," he chided, grabbing her panties. Before Y/n could react, he stuffed them into her mouth, gagging her. "There, that should keep you quiet."

Her eyes widened, surprise and humiliation flashing across her face. She mumbled something incoherent, her body squirming, trying to remove the makeshift gag.

Oscar held her thighs down, preventing her from moving. "Uh-uh, none of that," he scolded, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "You wanted to be fucked senseless, didn't you? Well, we can't have you screaming the house down, now can we?"

He leaned back in, his tongue resuming its assault on Y/n's pussy. "And I can't have you screaming my name," he murmured, his voice muffled. "Not with your parents due home anytime. Wouldn't want to ruin my good impression."

Despite the gag, Y/n's moans and whines continued to escape, filling the room. Oscar pulled away, his brow furrowing in disapproval.

"Enough," he said firmly, giving her pussy a sharp slap. Y/N jumped, her body jerking, her eyes widening in surprise and pain. She let out a muffled squeak, her body stilling.

Oscar looked up at Y/n, his expression serious. "If you want to cum tonight, you're going to need to be a good girl," he said, his voice firm. "No more noises, understand? You can nod if you do."

Y/n hesitated for a moment before nodding reluctantly, her eyes filled with determination. Oscar smiled, pleased with her compliance. "Good girl," he praised, before diving back in, his tongue and fingers working in tandem, bringing Y/n closer to the edge.

Oscar could feel Y/n's body tensing, her orgasm approaching. He slowed his movements, his tongue and fingers retreating just as she was about to tumble over the edge.

Y/n let out a frustrated moan, her body arching, seeking release. Oscar looked up at her, a wicked grin on his face. "Not yet, sweetheart," he said, his voice a low chuckle. "We've got all night, remember?"

Oscar lifted Y/n from the bed, positioning her over his lap. She let out a surprised yelp, her body tensing as she realized what was about to happen.

"Oscar, what are you doing?" she mumbled, her words muffled by the panties in her mouth.

Oscar removed the panties from Y/n's mouth, throwing them aside. "I'm giving you a chance to redeem yourself," he said, his voice stern. "I'm going to spank you, and you're going to count. If you get the number wrong or skip it, we start again from one. Understand?"

Y/N nodded, her body tense, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yes, Sir," she whispered, her voice filled with apprehension.

Oscar's eyes widened briefly at Y/n's use of 'Sir', but he chose not to comment on it. Instead, he simply smiled, his hand raised, coming down sharply on Y/N's ass.

"One," she gasped, her body jerking at the sudden impact. "Good girl," Oscar praised, his hand rising again.

"Two," Y/n counted, her voice steady despite the sting on her ass. Oscar continued, his hand falling in a rhythmic pattern, each smack echoing through the room.

"Three... Four... Five..." Y/n whimpers, her body tensing with each strike, her ass growing warm and red. Despite the pain, she felt a strange sensation building inside her, her body responding to the punishment.

"Six... Seven... Nine!" Y/n counted, her voice breathless. Suddenly, she realized her mistake, her eyes widening. "Wait, eight!" she corrected, her voice panicked.

Oscar tsked, shaking his head in disappointment. "Too late, sweetheart," he said, his voice firm. "You skipped eight. We start again from one."

Y/n's tears started to fall, her body trembling with frustration and unshed orgasms. After several failed attempts, Oscar paused, gently pulling on her hair, and forcing her to look at him.

"Hey, hey, look at me," he said softly, his voice filled with concern. "Is this too much, Y/n? Do you want me to stop?"

Y/n shook her head, her tear-filled eyes meeting Oscar's. "No, please don't stop," she begged, her voice hoarse. "I just... I just want to cum, Oscar. I'm sorry for disobeying you. Please, just let me cum."

Oscar smiled, leaning down to capture Y/n's lips in a tender kiss. When he pulled back, he cupped her cheek, his thumb wiping away her tears. "Okay, sweetheart," he said softly. "We'll do the spanking again. This time, I'll go slow, and I'll help you. Alright?"

She nodded, her body relaxing, her eyes filled with hope. "Yes, Oscar," she whispered.

Oscar positioned Y/n back over his lap, his hand gently caressing her now-reddened ass. "Ready?" he asked, his voice soft.

Y/n nodded, bracing herself. "Yes," she said, her voice steadier than before. "I'm ready."

Oscar landed a light spank on Y/n's ass, the sound echoing through the room. "One," he said, his voice calm and clear.

"One," Y/n repeated, her voice steady. She braced herself, ready for the next one.

Oscar spanked Y/n again and again, each spank growing harder than before. "Five," he counted, his voice firm.

Y/n winced, her body tensing at the increased intensity. "Five," she echoed, her voice slightly strained. She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm and focused.

Oscar brought his hand down hard on Y/n's ass one last time, the sound of the smack echoing loudly. "Ten," he said, his voice firm.

Y/n cried out, her body jerking, her ass stinging from the force of the blow. Tears sprang to her eyes, her body trembling. "Ten," she gasped, her voice barely audible.

Oscar pulled Y/n off his lap, setting her gently on the bed. He looked down at her, his eyes softening as he saw her tears. "See?" he said, his voice gentle. "It wasn't so hard to follow such simple instructions, was it?"

Y/n sniffled, wiping away her tears. She looked up at Oscar, her eyes filled with a mix of emotions. "No, Oscar," she admitted, her voice soft. "It wasn't." She took a deep breath, her body still tingling from the spanking. "What now?" she asked, her voice filled with anticipation.

Oscar smiled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Patience, sweetheart," he said, his voice low. "All in good timing."

He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between Y/n's legs. He wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Y/n watched, her breath hitching as Oscar's cock grew harder, longer. Then, without warning, he rubbed the tip against her clit, causing her to gasp

Oscar chuckled at Y/n's reaction, repeating the motion, rubbing his cock against her clit, teasing her. "Like that, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

She nodded, her body arching, seeking more friction. "Yes, Oscar," she gasped, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. "Please, more."

Oscar continued to tease Y/n, his cock rubbing against her clit, his movements slow and deliberate. He could feel her body tensing, her orgasm approaching.

"Not yet, sweetheart," he said, his voice firm. He pulled back, denying her release once again.

Oscar looked down at Y/n, his eyes filled with amusement. "Remember, the only way you're cumming tonight is on my tongue, fingers, or cock," he said, his voice a low reminder. "So, which will it be, sweetheart?"

She looked up at Oscar, her eyes filled with desperation. "Your cock, Oscar," she begged, her voice hoarse. "Please, I need you inside me. I can't wait any longer."

Oscar smiled, positioning himself at Y/n's entrance. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with desire. "As you wish," he said, his voice low.

With one thrust, he slid his cock into Y/n's tight pussy, filling her completely. She let out a cry of pleasure, her body arching, her nails digging into his back.

Oscar began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. "Shh, sweetheart," he reminded Y/n, his voice firm. "Remember, be quiet or I'll have to use those panties again to shut you up."

He looked down at her hands, which were exploring his body. "And keep your hands to yourself, or I'll have to use my belt," he added, his voice a low warning.

Y/n's hands continued to roam, ignoring Oscar's warning. With a sigh, he pulled out of her, grabbing his belt from the floor. He flipped her onto her hands and knees, pushing her upper body down onto the bed.

"Arms behind your back," he ordered, his voice stern. Y/n complied, her arms crossing behind her. Oscar quickly tied her wrists together with his belt, securing them tightly.

Oscar looked down at Y/n, her ass in the air, her wrists bound behind her back. He ran a hand over her reddened cheeks, his voice a low murmur. "Maybe you like being used like this, hmm? Maybe that's why you're acting like such a little brat."

He gave her ass a sharp slap, causing her to jump. "Answer me, Y/n. Do you like being used like this?"

Y/n hesitated for a moment before admitting, "Yes, Oscar. I... I do like it. I like being used like this." Her voice was small, filled with shame. "I'm sorry for being a brat."

Oscar smiled, running a hand possessively over Y/n's ass. "Don't be sorry, sweetheart," he said, his voice low. "I like using you like this. And I think you deserve a reward for being honest."

He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock pressing against her. "How about I fuck you nice and hard, hmm? Would you like that?"

"Yes, please," Y/n breathed, her body tensing in anticipation. But before she could say anything else, Oscar stuffed her panties back into her mouth, gagging her.

"Then be a good girl, keep quiet and take my cock, okay?" he said, his voice firm. Without waiting for an answer, he slammed into her, filling her completely.

Y/n let out a muffled moan, her body arching as Oscar filled her. Her hands, tied behind her back, tried to grip the air, seeking something to hold onto as he began to move, his hips slamming into her with increasing force.

Oscar watched, a smirk playing on his lips as Y/n struggled to keep quiet, her body writhing beneath him. He reached around, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts.

Y/n's moans grew louder, her body tensing as her orgasm approached. Oscar could feel her pussy tightening around his cock, her body begging for release.

"Not yet, sweetheart," he growled, pinching her clit, denying her orgasm. "You know better than that."

She lets out a frustrated moan, her body bucking against Oscar's restraint. He grabbed her hips, holding her still, his cock continuing to pound into her.

"You're not in charge here, Y/n," he reminded her, his voice firm. "I am. And I say when you cum. Not a moment sooner."

Oscar's thrusts became harder, faster, the bed creaking beneath them. He could feel his own orgasm approaching, his body tensing.

"I'm gonna cum, Y/n," he grunted, his fingers finding her clit once again. "And I'm gonna cum with you. Understand?"

Y/n nodded, her body tensing in anticipation. Oscar began to rub her clit in earnest, his cock slamming into her, their bodies moving in perfect sync.

With a final thrust, Oscar came, his cock pulsing inside Y/n. She followed soon after, her body convulsing, her pussy contracting around him. As she did, she squirted a little, the liquid going unnoticed by Oscar, who was lost in his own pleasure.

Oscar pulled out of Y/n, flipping her onto her back. He looked down at her, a satisfied smile on his face. "Mmm, looks like I made a mess," he said, his voice low.

He knelt on the floor, pulling her to the edge of the bed. He kissed her thighs, his tongue licking up his cum, cleaning her up. "I always clean up my mess, sweetheart," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers.

Oscar continued to lick and kiss Y/n's thighs, his tongue moving lower and lower until he reached her pussy. He looked up at her, a wicked grin on his face before burying his face between her legs, his tongue delving into her folds.

Her cum and his mixed on his tongue, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the taste, his tongue lapping up every drop.

Y/n let out muffled moans, her body writhing as Oscar's tongue worked its magic. He looked up at her, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he watched her react to his touch.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice muffled by her pussy. She nodded, her eyes filled with pleasure. Oscar smiled, his tongue continuing its assault

"Mmm-hmm," Y/n mumbled, her hips bucking against Oscar's face, seeking more friction. "Yes, fuck," she managed to say around the panties in her mouth. "Feels so good."

Oscar chuckled, his hands spreading Y/n's thighs wider, giving him better access. "I'm glad you like it, sweetheart," he said, his voice low. "Now, be a good girl and come for me one more time, hmm?" His tongue found her clit, sucking it into his mouth.

Her body tensed, her orgasm washing over her. She let out a muffled scream, her hips grinding against Oscar's face as she came, her juices flowing onto his tongue. He lapped it up, his tongue continuing to work her clit, drawing out her pleasure.

Oscar stood up, pulling the panties from Y/n's mouth. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue.

She struggled against the belt binding her wrists, letting out a frustrated groan. Oscar gently flipped her onto her stomach, unbuckling the belt and freeing her wrists.

Y/n moved her wrists, rubbing them to restore circulation. She turned to face Oscar, reaching up to kiss him. He was slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly, kissing her back with equal fervor, his hands tangling in her hair.

Oscar pulled back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Someone's needy," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Can't get enough of me, can you?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes still glassy from her earlier tears. She straddled Oscar, her hands resting on his chest. "I can't help it," she admitted, her voice soft. "You make me feel things I've never felt before."

Oscar smiled, his hands pulling Y/n closer, his lips capturing hers in another searing kiss. Abruptly, he broke away, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Sit on my face, sweetheart," he ordered, his voice low. "Let's see if I can make you feel even more."

Y/n hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. But at the sight of Oscar's eager expression, she climbed up his body, straddling his face, her pussy hovering above his mouth.

Y/N sank down onto Oscar's face, his nose brushing against her clit. He gripped her thighs, pushing her down, holding her in place as his tongue delved into her pussy, licking and sucking, devouring her.

"Oh god, Oz," Y/N moaned, her body writhing. "Calm down, you might not be able to breathe like that." But her words were half-hearted, her body already chasing another orgasm.

Oscar chuckled, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through Y/n. "I can handle it, sweetheart," he muttered, his tongue continuing its relentless assault. "Now, ride my face like a good girl."

Y/n obeyed, her hips moving in rhythm with Oscar's tongue, her moans growing louder, her body tensing as another orgasm approached. "Oz, I'm gonna cum," she warned, her voice breathless.

Oscar growled, his hands gripping her thighs tighter, pushing her down harder onto his face. "Cum for me, sweetheart," he demanded, his tongue flicking against her clit. "Cum all over my face."

"Oz, please," Y/n whimpered, her body twitching with each swipe of his tongue. "It's too much. I can't take anymore." But Oscar ignored her pleas, his tongue continuing its relentless assault.

Finally, Y/n couldn't take anymore. She collapsed forward, her body spent, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Oscar chuckled, his hands gentling on her thighs, his tongue slowing, bringing her down from her high.

"We're not done yet, sweetheart," Oscar said, a wicked glint in his eye. Before she could respond, he lifted her, placing her in front of him, her legs spread wide, facing the mirror on her wall. "Watch, Y/n," he commanded, his cock pressing against her entrance. "Watch us."

Oscar's fingers found Y/n's clit, circling it, teasing it. Every now and then, he'd dip his fingers into her pussy, just enough to make her gasp, before retreating, leaving her wanting more. All while she watched their reflection in the mirror.

Y/n looked away, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. But Oscar wasn't having it. He grabbed her chin, turning her face towards the mirror. "Eyes on us, Y/n," he ordered his voice firm. "Watch what I do to you."

She hesitantly met her own gaze in the mirror, watching as Oscar's fingers continued to tease her. She could see the flush on her cheeks, the dilation of her pupils, and the way her body responded to his touch.

Oscar smiled, pressing kisses along Y/n's neck, feeling her shiver in response. "Good girl," he whispered, his fingers never stopping their movement. "You look so beautiful like this, all flushed and needy."

Y/n let out a moan as she felt Oscar's cock slide into her, inch by inch. She watched in the mirror as her body stretched to accommodate him, her eyes fluttering closed briefly before snapping open again, following Oscar's orders.

"Do you see that, baby?" Oscar asked, his voice low. "See how you take my cock so well? Like you were made for it."

Y/n moaned, her legs shaking as she slowly bounced on Oscar's cock. His fingers found her clit, rubbing in time with her movements, making her moan even louder. She could feel his cum from earlier leaking out of her, adding to the sensation.

"Fuck, baby," Oscar groaned, his fingers tightening on her hips, guiding her movements. "You feel so good. Ride my cock, baby. Make yourself cum again."

She whimpered, her body struggling to keep up. Her legs were weak, her muscles protesting, but she pushed through, her body chasing another orgasm. She could feel it building, her breath coming in short gasps, her vision starting to blur.

Oscar's fingers pressed firmly against Y/n's clit, pushing her over the edge. She screamed, her body convulsing, her pussy contracting around Oscar's cock, squirting her release. He groaned, his cock pulsing inside her, filling her with his cum once again.

Oscar kept thrusting, drawing out Y/n's orgasm, making her squirt again and again. The bed beneath them grew wet, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room. Y/N's screams echoed off the walls, her body completely at Oscar's mercy.

Their orgasms finally subsided, both of them breathing heavily. Oscar rested his head on her shoulder, his body still shuddering with aftershocks. "Fuck, Y/n," he panted. "That was..." he trailed off, unable to find the words.

"That was amazing," Y/n breathed, her body still trembling. Oscar laughed, lifting his head to look at her. "It really was," he agreed. "I didn't know you could squirt, sweetheart."

Y/n chuckled, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "Neither did I," she admitted. "Guess we learned something new today."

The sound of the front gate opening had both of them freezing. They sat up straight, panic setting in. "Shit, my parents," Y/N whispered, her eyes wide. "And mine too," Oscar added, quickly pulling out of her and grabbing his clothes.

She let out a hiss of pain as Oscar pulled out, her body still sensitive and sore from their activities. She quickly started gathering her own clothes, her heart pounding in her chest.

Oscar rushed to get dressed, throwing Y/n's clothes to her. "Here, put these on," he urged, helping her into a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top. "We need to clean up this room before your parents get here."

"No, I'll clean up," Oscar insisted, grabbing a towel and starting to wipe down the bed. "You go downstairs and stall them. Tell them I'm not feeling well and I went to lie down."

Y/n nodded, her steps wobbling as she made her way to the door. "Be quick, Oz," she whispered before closing the door behind her and heading downstairs.

Y/n

I quickly run down the stairs, my feet quiet on the wooden steps. My heart is still thrumming in my chest from the rush of it all, the near miss having sent a burst of adrenaline through me.

I reach the bottom of the stairs, my breath still coming a bit fast from the speed at which I came down. The realization that my parents and his parents could have caught us is still fresh in my mind, adding a bit of a thrill to the whole situation.

The sound of the front door opening catches my attention, and I freeze at the bottom of the stairs when I see who it is. My parents, my brother, Oscar's parents, and his sister. They're all chatting and laughing, the effects of alcohol present on everyone's faces except Gabriel's (who is half asleep).

I stand there, my heart rate picking up, my mind still racing as I try to process the unexpected arrival.

The sight of all our family members together is a bit overwhelming, especially given the state and Oscar and I are currently in. I take a deep breath, hoping that the flush on my skin in the aftermath of our earlier activities is not too obvious.

May, being the most sober of the group, immediately notices my disheveled state and smirks to herself, clearly aware of the situation. The rest of the group, still a bit drunk, remain oblivious to the obvious clues, chatting and laughing amongst themselves, completely oblivious to our predicament upstairs.

My dad, seeing me at the foot of the stairs, looks surprised. He notices my flushed skin and the slight sheen of sweat on my forehead, and can't help but ask, "Why are you so sweaty?"

Caught off guard by my dad's question, quickly makes up an excuse. She pauses for a moment, my mind racing for a convincing reason why I'd be so sweaty.

"Oh," I finally manage to say, "I was, uh, cleaning my room. I just finished."

The lie sounds weak even to my own ears, but thankfully the group seems to buy it, or at least not question it further. My dad just nods, still looking at her with a hint of curiosity, while the rest of the group continue their loud conversation, oblivious to the lie.

Y/n trails behind the group, her mind still a bit frazzled from the close call. She keeps her distance a bit, not wanting to call attention to her flushed skin or disheveled state. The sounds of laughter and chatter fill the air, and everyone is in high spirits.

Once everybody else has gone to their rooms, Y/n finally relaxes a little. She takes a moment to steady herself, taking a deep breath to calm her still-racing heart. Then, she approaches her bedroom door and knocks, signaling to Oscar that everything is clear.

Y/n enters the room, finding Oscar already inside, changing the sheets. The sight of him making the bed, his muscular back and broad shoulders moving under his shirt, sends a small flutter of desire through her.

Y/n gives Oscar a small smile, her eyes tracing over his form for a moment before she speaks. "The coast is clear," she says, her voice a bit softer than usual. "You can go back to your room and change now."

Oscar nods and continues changing the sheets, his focus on the task at hand. A few moments later, he finishes and stands up, giving Y/n a quick smile before leaving the room and making his way back towards his own room.

He walks over to the bed and lays down beside Y/n, the mattress shifting slightly under his weight. He turns towards her, looking at her tired face, a small smile on his lips. He reaches for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, a silent reassurance.

Oscar, seeing the exhaustion on her face, looks at her tenderly and asks, "Are you sleepy?" His voice is soft and soothing, a direct contrast to the earlier heat and passion.

As she turns to face him, her hands immediately find their way under his shirt, her slender fingers brushing against his skin. The simple touch is enough to make him shiver slightly, his body reacting to her instinctively. He looks at her, his gaze full of tenderness and desire.

Y/n's hands run over his skin, her touch lingering on his chest, seeking the warmth of his body. She cuddles a little closer, her body curving against his. "You're warm," she murmurs sleepily, her voice a bit muffled against his shoulder.

Oscar chuckles softly, amused by her sleepy murmurs. He runs a hand through her hair, gently soothing her. "Go to sleep now," he whispers, his voice a gentle command.

Y/n nods, her eyelids already feeling heavy. She snuggles closer to his chest, her body instinctively seeking his warmth and comfort. Her breathing slowly evens out as she begins to drift off, her mind succumbing to the exhaustion and the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat.

As Y/n drifts off to sleep, Oscar watches her for a moment, a tender smile on his face. Carefully, he reaches for the end of the blanket and tugs it up over her body, tucking her in snugly. He lays there next to her, the silence of the night broken only by the soft sound of her breathing.

oscarpiastrii

liked by may.piastri, hattie_pia, ediepastry and 814 others oscarpiastrii She's my girl (Some of the pics are from Y/n lol) tagged yn.jpg

yn.jpg you sap ↳ oscarpiastrii I love you too

hattie_pia wow. okay.

ediepastry my little boy is all grown up ↳ oscarpiastrii I'm older than you...?

may.piastri hattie_pia wheres my 5 bucks ↳ hattie_pia stfu im omw to ur room ↳ oscarpiastrii What do you mean 5 bucks. ↳ may.piastri oh we made a bet if you'd actually become y/ns bf (especially after you wouldn't stop talking abt her otw home when they were in Australia) ↳ yn.jpg OH???? ↳ oscarpiastrii may.piastri Delete your account.

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[littlegrapejuice]

Saved his life | LS2

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader

Summary: You come to check on Logan after qualifying at the Dutch GP, hoping to lift his spirits.

Author's Note: ok so this literally came to me in a dream😭 logan's replacement was announced on tuesday (still crying about it btw) and istg i woke up wednesday morning after having lived this plot during my sleep

You had been seeking him out after FP3, and were once again seeking him out after qualifying. Logan was nowhere to be found and you worried about the state he mentally was in since his crash. The backlash from his team as well as journalists had blown out of proportion, for they were all focusing on the damages suffered by the car before considering the health of the driver.

Similar to you, Logan's fans were doing their best to support him and wondered about how he was doing. You had seen many comments online about people complaining that neither Williams - as in James Vowles - nor commentators had expressed an interest in the well-being of the driver, only talking about ruining a newly upgraded car - which would be proven illegal later on.

Scouring the paddock, you were now going from garage to garage looking for Logan. Obviously, you had first gone to the Williams one but without any success in finding the American. You hadn't even known at first if he was actually at the track, but a quick shot of him on the TV screen had confirmed you that he was indeed in his garage.

This is why as soon as qualifying ended, you had waited for George to come back to the Mercedes garage so that you could notify him that you were leaving for the time being. You had plans together later tonight, meaning that he didn't mind you doing whatever you wanted until then.

And that's thus how you were still walking around the paddock, praying that it wouldn't take much longer to find Logan.

As you then thought you had seen him from afar, someone obviously had to come up to you and stop you in your tracks. You turned around at the tap on your shoulder and was met with a blonde driver, but not quite the one you would've rather faced.

"Hi Max," you said with a smile.

"Hey, you alright?" He asked both because he was genuinely interested in your answer and because he couldn't help but notice you frantically looking around.

"Yeah, I'm good! Congrats on P2, that's great at your home race." You gave a last glance to the side and decided to temporarily abort your mission as you had unfortunately lost sight of who you thought had been Logan.

"Thanks, I wish I could've gotten pole but I'll get the first place from turn one so that's alright."

"I'll be internally rooting for you, but you know I'll have to stick to my roots and publicly support my team."

"Of course," Max replied. "The Red Bull garage is always open if you ever feel like changing your mind. We also probably have better food than Mercedes." He let out a smile at your laugh before scratching his throat, as if he was thinking about his next words. "Listen, I-"

"Sorry Max," you apologised as you checked your watch and got afraid you would miss logan leaving the track. "I'd love to talk more with you but I was on the way to do something important so please make it quick."

"Yeah, hmm... did you have the chance to visit the city and its surroundings? I was thinking that..." Max hesitated before he saw you nodding at him, silently telling him to continue. "We could grab a drink or some food later on, and I can show you around? Seeing as this is my home country, I'm pretty familiar with it so I could give you a proper tour and you'd see things that you would never see with a regular tour guide and-"

"Sounds lovely yeah!" You felt pretty bad for interrupting him once again, but the clock was really ticking and you were getting more nervous. "I already have something planned for tonight though, so maybe another day?"

"Well, there's only tomorrow left then. After the race?" He suggested with hope in his tone.

"I'll get back to you on that. Depending on who's winning, I might be celebrating someone else you know."

"Of course, but I'm pretty confident that I can score another victory here."

"Great, then that's settled! Super cool to chat with you Max, I'll see you later." You waved at him and quickly started walking again to the direction you had last seen Logan several minutes ago.

You were gone so fast that you hadn't even heard Max telling you that he would text you his request again, as he had sensed that your focus had been on all but your exchange with him. You liked Max to be honest; he was a really sweet guy and could easily match your energy as a fellow yapper. However, he had chosen the worst moment to strike up a conversation with you. Thinking about how you could repay it to him next time you'd see him - probably tomorrow, all your stress was going away as you finally found the person you were looking for.

You stopped close enough to him that he would notice you, but a few metres away so that you had time to catch your breath without it being too obvious that you had been almost running around for him.

As he called out your name, you couldn't help the smile that lit up your face.

"You're good?"

"I am now, thanks. Been searching for you, you know? You're quite hard to find," you told him in complete honesty with a light laugh.

"Really?" Logan was surprised by your words. He hadn't expected anyone to come talk to him today, except for his teammate Alex or a couple drivers texting him for a check up.

"Yeah," you nodded. "I couldn't see you after practice earlier and I thought talking to you face to face was better than a text so yes, I was looking for you."

If you and Logan weren't surrounded by hundreds of people, he would definitely shed a tear at your kindness - not like anyone was actually paying attention to the both of you as you were on the side of the path. He didn't think a headline consisting of F1 Driver Logan Sargeant seen crying while talking with F1 Driver George Russel's long-time friend was a good idea though.

"And you wanted to talk to me about something important?" He wondered.

"That's what I said", you replied. "I wanted to talk to you, about you, I guess."

"That's not super-"

"It is," you immediately interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. You knew what he was about to say and you were definitely not letting him give voice to his thoughts. Seeing as he was still taken aback by your words, you kept going. "You're important, Logan. More than a random chassis, or an engine, or whatever they put in the shit car that they make you drive."

Hearing your own sentence, you were about to apologise for the strong opinion - Logan was driving said car so you didn't know if you were right to comment on it - but the chuckle that came from the American stopped you from doing so. It didn't last long as Logan quickly covered his mouth, thus shutting down the sound, but you suddenly wished you could hear it again.

And not because you're trash talking his team, but because you're, let's say, watching a movie together and a funny scene comes up; or because you're walking around a park and he laughs at your clumsiness when you almost trip on a random rock.

You just wished, right now, that you weren't at the track, in this paddock, with all those cars and people around. You just wanted to be with him, in a quiet place where you could just enjoy each other's presence without having to worry about a team principal that didn't take his driver's needs into account or about journalists that couldn't seem to see the human aspect of a driver behind the suit and helmet.

Your thoughts were however soon interrupted when a hand appeared in front of your face.

"Hello? Earth to whatever planet you're on?" Logan had a smile on his face. He wasn't laughing anymore but he didn't seem annoyed either at your silence. "Did you get lost in your mind?"

"Possibly", you answered with a nervous laugh. "Sorry, won't happen again."

"It's fine, don't worry."

You could see Logan was genuine in his eyes. The way they were being lit up by the sun suddenly made you wonder about what was hidden behind it. They often say that eyes are the mirror of the soul; but for now, you could only see yourself in Logan's.

"Hey Logan," you said after a few seconds of silence. He glanced down at you, which you took as a sign to continue. "Do you wanna hang out with me tonight? I- hmm I have this dinner with George, Lando, Alex, and their girls. And it could be nice of you to join. I mean, if you want to of course, and if you don't have anything planned already but yeah, that'd be cool. I'd like that."

When Logan didn't reply, you started to think that it was over and that your stress was so obvious, and that he wasn't going to accept the offer. But then:

"I'd love to." Your gaze was now filled with hope, until the next words left Logan's mouth. "But I think I need to be alone tonight. It's absolutely not against you or the others, but today hasn't been the best day for me as you obviously know and even though it could lighten up my mood, I'd rather focus on tomorrow's race."

"Oh, hmm... okay, yeah... I totally get it, no problem."

Logan was not dumb; he noticed your immediate change of attitude as you lowered your gaze, so he decided to add on to his explanation:

"It's just a raincheck, you know? I'm not going out tonight, but I'd absolutely be down for another day if we both find the time. Sounds good?"

"Yeah!" You nodded with a smile. "Raincheck, okay, got it."

"Sorry to cut this short, but I gotta go for now." Logan gave you a smile before checking his phone. "I'll get back to you for a hang out, but thanks for taking the time to talk with me. I truly appreciate it."

"It's normal, we're friends so... I wasn't really thinking twice about it."

"Then thank you for that as well. We'll see each other later, right?"

"Of course," you confirmed. "Race's tomorrow so at least then, goodbye for now Logan."

"Bye, take care."

He gave you a quick hug before departing, and next thing you knew, he was gone. You then turned around, ready to exit the paddock and go back to your hotel, so that you could get ready for your dinner tonight with your friends.

.....

"George, hey!" You called out to him as you saw him from afar. "Thanks for waiting, sorry I'm a little late."

"No problem," he replied. "I sent Alex and the girls inside to keep us a table. We're just missing Lando, but I think he'll be here soon."

As if on cue, you had received a text. Thinking it was from the curly haired man, you opened it in front of George before reading the sender and the content of the message.

Hi! Regarding our conversation from earlier, I decided to formally ask if you wanted to grab dinner with me tomorrow night after the race?

A smile unknowingly took place on your face, and George couldn't help but notice it.

"What's got you all happy?" He asked before adding a comment. "You're even blushing so I guess this is not Lando."

"It's no one," you said as you immediately locked your phone before George could look at the screen. "Just a friend I'm supposed to catch up with tomorrow."

"You have friends other than us in the Netherlands right now?" A familiar voice questioned from behind you.

"Lando!" George exclaimed as the last of your group was finally here. "Hey mate. Congrats on pole. Good quali you did there."

"Thanks man." Lando glanced at you while the three of you started walking inside the hotel, towards the restaurant. "So what's this about a friend of yours?"

"Drop it Lando," you replied, annoyed - although you could truly never be annoyed with him. "I'll tell you all about it when it's over if you still wanna know after the weekend."

"Of course I will! I'll even bring that up in the groupchat so you'll have to tell this wonderful and absolutely not suspicious story to everyone," Lando laughed as he nudged your side.

Thankfully, neither George nor Lando had brought up the topic with the others, even though they were still curious on what you were hiding. You were glad that they didn't because how could you even explain to them that you would be going out to dinner with a fellow driver? You honestly didn't think they would mind, but you also didn't want them to go and bother said driver when you knew that the paddock's walls had ears everywhere.

Hoping that it would be fine to reply to the text later, you had therefore waited until you were back in your hotel room to agree to the offer. Tonight's dinner had been amazing and you were always happy to spend time with your friends whom you didn't see much, but tomorrow's would be something even more special as it would actually be your first time hanging out one on one with the driver you were maybe fancying.

Before forgetting, you also decided to notify your friends of your plans - omitting the driver aspect of the 'friend' you would be seeing after the race - so that they wouldn't be surprised to not see you attend any celebration. Of course you would try and spend some time with the winner if he was part of your friend group, but at least you were in the clear to not go party all night with them.

.....

And you had never once regretted not attending the party that had celebrated Lando's win at the Dutch Grand Prix. He had told you that day after the race that you would have a myriad of other chances to attend another one as he was planning on winning more and more often - which he did.

Tonight's party, however, would be in your honour. As well as Logan's. And you couldn't see yourself anywhere else than here, in front of him. You truly didn't think you would one day end up in this situation, and neither did he. Logan hadn't really expected to experience such an event in his life, but he eventually did, all thanks to you.

You had saved his life. That day, when you reached out to him after qualifying, was unknowingly a turning point in his life. He had been at his lowest. He had known what would certainly happen following the Grand Prix; he had been expecting to be let go after the disastrous performances he was giving.

Knowing didn't make it less painful though.

He did get dropped by his team, Williams, which you cursed for as long as you could and still did from time to time. And even if Logan had achieved being a Formula One driver - which no one could ever take away from him, he had still felt like he was worthless after it happened.

He hadn't known how to process the sudden end of his short time on the grid and felt lost for a while, wondering about what would define him as a person now that the dream he'd had since he was a child was over.

But you had made him believe that it wasn't the end of the world and that something else was waiting for him. He could've ended it all, but you showed him a glimmer of hope and he chose to keep going, see what else was in store for him. He still had a future. And he had been right to trust you, as he was now here, facing you and about to be making you his. Only two words left to say before doing so.

'Thank you', he mouthed to you before the long-awaited sentence was to be heard out loud. "I do", he then confirmed without tearing his gaze away from your face.

..........

Okayyyy so this it lol

Hope y'all liked it🫶🏻 this was my 1st time ever writing for a driver since i got into motorsports and I feel really happy w it!! Thanks to my brain for making me dream ab logan, i think it kinda helps me cope regarding him not being the grid anymore (i miss him sm chat)

Idk when I'll write again for a driver if i ever do so, but don't hesitate to give feedback on this so that ik how to approach a future work🤍

[leviismybby]

Seven days of the week

Levi Ackerman x fem!reader

NSFW 18+, mdni, just what a week is like with your husband!Levi, filth, literally filth. I apologize.

Monday

Soft sex, he starts the week off by waking you up with gentle kisses on Monday morning. His hands run over your soft skin, lips kissing the nape of your neck as he presses his hips into yours. He enters you, cock pushing past your walls slowly as he quiets your moans with a passionate kiss on the lips. "Good morning baby." Levi nibbles on your ear as his thrusts get deeper, he holds you close, your back to his chest as his cock slides in and out of your wetness.

Tuesday

Kitchen counter, I repeat KITCHEN COUNTER. He sneaks up behind you, his hands running under your shirt and messaging your breasts as you try to cook. Levi turns the stove off and spins you around to place your body on the counter as he stands between your open legs. He is quick to slide your underwear off, his fingers ghosting on your inner thighs before he touches your pussy. A cheeky smirk appears on his face. "I had my fingers buried in your cunt so many times, yet you're always so sensitive..." He entered two of his fingers into your warmth without warning, your hips bucked off the cold surface. Levi pumped his finger in and out, faster and faster before he scissored them inside of you. You came all over his fingers, Levi pulled his fingers out and licked them. "You taste so good as always baby." He pulls your body closer. "Now let me see how you feel today..."

Wednesday

Rough, he came home from work in a bad mood. He didn't even ask you anything, just threw you over his shoulder and slapped your ass as he carried you to your bedroom. His kisses are intense as he lays you down on the soft mattress, he bites on your lips as he pulls away from the kiss. Hands undress you before you can blink. He plays with your nipples, mouth sucking them eagerly as his cock pounds into you roughly. "Such a pretty wife. You're doing so good for me." Despite his soft words, he fucks you hard. Your head is buried into the pillow as he holds you down, ass up in the air as he spanks it. He loves having you in the doggy style. A growl escapes his lips as he starts fucking you faster, feeling your walls get tighter around his cock. Pulling out, he cums all over your back and you fall on the bed. "We are not done yet, baby." He kisses down your spine before pulling your hips back up.

Thursday

Your husband is busy today, he didn't have time for you but he can always excuse a few minutes to have you drool on his cock. You bob your head up and down as Levi holds your hair in his hands. "Mhh that wicked mouth of yours..." His words make you take him further into your mouth, you gag on him a few times before swirling your tongue around his tip. Levi twitches in your mouth before you feel his load shoot down your throat. "That's it. Swallow it all." And you do, you swallow the salty taste before striking your tongue out to show your husband. Levi smiles and strokes your hair softly. "You're just the perfect wife, aren't you?"

Friday

Humiliation. Mean, as much as he loves you when you piss him off and tease him too much, he gets mean. Your legs shake from overestimation, practically begging him to stop but he only grips your thighs harder as he sucks on your clit again. "Shut the fuck up. You're nothing but a slut." You whine as you cum on his tongue again. Levi slurps up all of your juices before he kisses you on the lips. "Say you want my cock, say it." He grips your jaw and you have no choice. "Please Levi, want your cock" He bites your neck as he spreads your legs and enters you. "What a good girl you are. Just hungry to get fucked aren't you?" His hips start snapping into you in a mean pace, the bed shakes. Yeah, he won't stop until he has you ruined under him.

Saturday

Multiple creampies. He wants to have children with you and now that you're his wife, he can cum inside of you as much as he wants. "Want me to make you a mommy? Fill you up again?" He asks as if he didn't cum in you two times already, his thrusts are sloppy, and the sound almost makes you ashamed. "Fuck...fuck Levi!" Your nails dig into his biceps, hips moving with his as you ride him. "Yeah? Want another load in you hmm? Can you take more?" Your husband watches as you bounce on top of him, desperate for release. "Yes. Yes, another!" Levi takes your hips and plunges deeper into you, his cock hits your sweet spot over and over again. Your wet cunt clamps down on him as you cum and Levi holds your hips still before groaning. His cum fills your up and you drop your head on his shoulder. It drips out of you as Levi pulls out of you but he is quick to put his finger inside of you. "We can't make a mess all over my office chair now, can we?" He bites your neck sweetly.

Sunday

Both of you have a free day on Sunday, sometimes the weather allows you two to somewhere, you go but if the weather is rainy, your husband likes to tease you and deny you until you can't any longer. You're seated in front of the mirror, legs spread as Levi plays with your pussy. "Levi please..." He just pretends like he didn't hear you and just continues to run his fingers gently over your wetness. Lips nibble at your neck, his other hand circling your nipples. "Look at yourself, begging for me. What is that you want?" He slaps your wet cunt before gently rubbing it. "Want your fingers...please..." A slight snort leaves his mouth. "That's all? Common I know my pretty wife can do better.." His fingers are now just lightly ghosting over your pussy. "Please. Want to cum on your fingers..." You feel his teeth bite into your shoulder, his fingers thrust into you three times before he takes them out again and rubs your inner thighs instead. "But what's the hurry love? We have all day.." He smiles as he sees the reflection in the mirror. You were truly a work of art and he can't believe he got so lucky.

---------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @humanitys-strongest-bamf @luvjiro @levisbrat25 @youre-ackermine @yakaaamoz @the-milk-anon @mrsackermannx @sixpennydame @svftackerman @lovolee3 @loveackermannn @notgoodforlife @randomlevithoughts @sparkywrites25 @ackermendick @levismylover

[greyias]

Twitterpocalypse -- The Final Countdown(?)

*cracks knuckles*

All right. I had thought we were done. I had thought about retiring these, as the last one got a bit out of hand. I had planned on doing other things tonight, but it appears, my people need me.

And this genuinely might be the last one (at least from me). So let's see if I can sum up what's happened since our last episode, and see how many screenshots I can artfully arrange together before Tumblr breaks.

On Tuesday, things were already starting to break.

Wednesday:

Twitter 1.0 is dead. Long live Twitter 2.0!

It's just like the nineties, because it's EXTREMEly HARDCORE

Then somehow. After that was when things started getting weird.

Not content to be the technoking who is responsible for the engineering of rockets and for the technology in the exploding cars that make them successful, he decided to become a lawyer too.

He's really good at it.

And then this is what lured me into a false sense of security at *checks timestamp* almost 5pm last night.

That's right. Less than three weeks at the job, looking at the flames spreading all around him, Muskhead decided "I did good", or you know. He got bored. Things were quiet this morning, I thought maybe they'd found the tranq gun again. Nope. I shouldn't have looked away.

Because suddenly on Discord everyone's asking me about my next Twitterpocalypse update. And I'm like "??? I looked away for like A SECOND". And open up the app and...

Reactions have been mixed.

I don't know what you guys are talking about. This is HARDCORE EXTREME. Like a Rob Liefeld drawing. Which is absolutely the way to run one of the most important communication platforms in the entire world.

UMMM

RIP TWITTER 2.0

🫡

Farewell big bird. You were hilarious. You were horrible. You connected so many people, you literally ruined so many lives. Just waiting for the official return of the Fail Whale, as we all know it's coming.

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (11)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, longing, fluff, bitchy collegue

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (10)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Over the next week, you’re a busy bee. You work harder than ever before to make sure you can take Friday off. Bucky invited you for dinner at his place, and you don’t want to miss your second date for anything in the world.

“Look at our cheery co-worker,” your colleague huffs as you whistle a tune while printing more copies. Only thinking of Bucky and the perfect date you had makes you smile. She can’t ruin your mood.

“A good morning for you too,” you chirp but don’t turn around. Her sour mood is not your problem. It’s not your job to cheer her up. You tried so often, but she only got bitchier whenever you offered your help or tried to be nice.

“Why are you so cheery on a Wednesday morning,” she snarls and stands a little closer. While she looks over your shoulder at the copier, you smile to yourself. If you told her about your date, Alpine and Bucky, your colleague would find a way to ruin it for you too. “Did something good happen over the last days?”

You bite your tongue before you can tell her about your date and Bucky. She’s a nosy bitch and would spread rumors about you and your date without a doubt.

“Nothing special,” you lie, and focus on finishing your task. There’s more than enough to do today, and you don’t have time to entertain her.

“You’re chirping like a little bird, and flutter around the office just the same. I wonder what got into you, is all,” she presses on, determined to find out about the cause of your happiness.”

“I got a new plant,” you say to stop her from asking more questions. The last thing you need is that you accidentally tell her about Bucky.

“I bet it has something to do with your secret admirer. Did he send you more than flowers this time? Lingerie? Dick pics.”

You grit your teeth and exhale sharply. How can she talk like that about your secret admirer? He’d never do such a thing. Your secret admirer is a gentleman, not some creep sending your lingerie or dick pics.

Your colleague keeps on nagging about work, your secret admirer, and life in general. Just like before, you ignore her. No one is going to ruin your mood, or the happiness you feel because of your date with Bucky.

Only the thought of him makes everything better. Your day. Your nights. Your whole life.

She can’t bring you down or take your happiness away from you. Walking away, the copies tugged under your arm you smile sweetly at your colleague. “I need to go back to my desk. If you have any more questions, please make an appointment.”

She gives you the stinky eye, but you don’t care.

“Alpine, we need to clean this place. It must be sparkling clean when Y/N comes here for our date,” Bucky rummages inside the kitchen, looking for a cleaner. “Alpine, no more making the floor dirty. Stop hiding your toys in every corner, punk.”

Alpine hisses at the bucket stand on the floor. The white furball walks past Bucky to jump onto the sofa and get comfortable in their favorite spot.

“Hey, help me here. You want her to like you too, right?” Bucky cocks his head to look at his cat. “Punk, if we want to bring her into our life, you should put more effort into winning her over.”

Bucky furrows his brows. He looks at the bucket and then at the cleaner, deciding to try this new direction first. If dates and love confession won’t work out, he can still let the darker thoughts take over and bring you away.

Maybe convincing you to move in with him isn’t going to work out. Maybe, just maybe he should stick to his original plan and take you away from the life you’re living to give you a better one.

“Hmm…ladies. What do you think?” You pose in front of your plushies while trying on another dress. “No, that’s not the one.” Sighing deeply, you strip off the dress to toss it onto the bed to join the pile of clothing.

Again, you walk toward your wardrobe to get the next dress out. In a few days, you’ve got the next date with Bucky, and you want to look beautiful for him.

Grabbing another dress in fifties style you frown. What if Bucky doesn’t like your style? Maybe you should try something sexier on.  

You shake your head. No. Bucky is not like that. He’s a gentleman and admired the dress you wore for your first date more than once.

“What do you say, this one?” You take your favorite dress out. A rockabilly fifties swing dress, adorned with a beautiful cream-colored floral print and pastel green foliage on a pale salmon pink background. The dress boasts cute, capped sleeves and a ruched chest panel. It’s the perfect mix of cute and stylish. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

Your plushies can’t help you decide. Of course, they can’t. You already know that the dress is the perfect choice for your date with Bucky. If he doesn’t make a move on Friday night, you’ll be damned…

Part 12

Tags in reblog.

[wol-fica]

-ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟: ℙ𝕣𝕖-𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤-

pairings - wednesdayaddams x elemental!reader

summary - in which reader has a crush on a certain goth…

warnings - angst, pining, rude Xavier (sorry), happy ending

an - i miss writing for Nessy, so i think this would be a good addition to my bliss series; this is before they got together :) shit writing btw

—————————

Shit.

That is the word you would use to describe yourself right now.

Mornings have never been your thing, you hated getting out of your warm bed just to immediately go and sit in a boring class for a ninety minutes learning about the anatomy of a mythical horse or whatever the lesson plan was. School was an agitator for you, but you still valued your education so waking up on time was a need-to-do.

Usually though, you at least get yourself ready and look decent enough for the day, but this morning was different. See, yesterday during lunch in the quad, you were writing the final draft of your confession letter to a certain raven haired goth. Your crush had been festering for a few months now, and you had decided to write a little something for her to let her know how you feel.

Everything was going perfect, you were just about done with the letter and was going to slip it under her dorm after folding it up, but a gust of wind ruined your whole plan. The letter flew across the quad and into the hands of Xavier Thorpe, who happened to despise you.

He read the whole thing in one go, snorted at it and stared at you with a little condescending smirk before walking it straight over to his friend group. Everyone, including Enid Sinclair, Yoko Tanaka, Eugene Ottinger, Ajax Petropolus, the twins Kent and Divina, and Wednesday Addams herself all read it collectively.

Xavier was laughing his head off while they did, and Kent joined in once he finished. Ajax chuckled while Enid giggled with a little blush of her face, Eugene looked confused to who wrote it, Yoko and Divina smirked and shared a look before squinting at you, and Wednesday just looked blank.

You watched in pure horror, your body shrinking into your seat while the whole thing unfolded. You felt sick to your stomach, and to top the whole thing off, Wednesday took the letter and crumpled it into a little ball, tossing it into the trashcan next to her.

Your heart shattered, mouth dropped open in shock. Xavier turned to look back at you, pointing and leaning on his knees while laughing at your expression. Tears formed into your eyes, and with one last look at the girl you so badly liked, you snatched up your things and ran.

Fast forward to now, where you just looked dead. Your hair was disheveled, there were dark bags under your eyes, and you barely made any effort to make your uniform look fit and well kept. Your tie was loose, your jacket was unbuttoned, and your shirt was wrinkled and dusted at the collar. You had no socks on, and you didn’t even bother to put a belt on your pants.

People stared in class, whispering amongst themselves while pointing at you. At one point, you thought you saw Enid shoot you a look of pity, but you shrugged it off to being your sleep-deprived brain playing tricks on you.

You looked depressed, because you were, and it did not help when you crossed Xavier in the hallway and he said loudly to Kent, “Looks like a dirtbag!”

You sighed, glancing up at the darkening sky before hurrying to get to the quad for dinner. You planned on eating, and getting back to your dorm as soon as you could so no one would have to endure looking at you any longer.

After standing in line and grabbing your tray, you trudged to an empty table and sat down, slumping in your seat. You were exhausted from lack of sleep and crying all night, and it wasn’t a surprise to you when you leaned your forehead against the table and tears started to form again. Your tray of food was left untouched while you cried to yourself, and the stare from a certain goth went unnoticed by you.

Wednesday was watching you, her black eyes burrowing into the side of your head while your body shook slightly with each painful sob you produced. She felt a weird feeling in her stomach, one of pity and remorse she didn’t understand. Her heart was telling her to go to you, to pull you into her arms and hold you close while she comforted you, but her stubbornness refused the idea.

“Wednesday.”

She turned her head away from you, choosing ti look at Enid now, “What.”

Enid sighed, glancing at you before looking back at her roommate, “You should talk to her.”

Wednesday furrowed her brow, “There is no reason for me to.”

“Yes there is.” Enid replied, bringing her fork to her mouth and chewing on a piece of steak.

“Just because she sent me a confession letter, doesn’t make me obligated to take care of her.”

“Wednesday c’mon!” Enid said, giving her friend a look, “You read that letter, she really likes you!”

Wednesday glared back, “And? I still see no reason for me to go talk to her.”

Enid sighed, glancing around before leaning in to whisper lowly, “What Xavier did was unacceptable and rude, you should at least make sure she is okay.”

Wednesday turned to look at you for a moment, the pang of guilt returning when she saw you had lifted your head. Your face was stained with tears, eyes heavy and tired from crying. You meekly picked at your food, not even bringing the utensil up to take a bite.

“I suppose I could check in to see how she is.” Wednesday murmured, her heart beating slightly faster at the thought of talking to you.

“You should.” Enid said, turning back to her steak, “It’s the right thing to-.”

“But her sadness is not my problem.” Wednesday finished, sparing you one last glance before picking up her book and continuing to read.

“Wednesday!” Enid exclaimed, “Really? You won’t even ask her how she is feeling?”

“She’s clearly sad Enid, I don’t need to ask to see that.”

“Wednesday.” Enid growled, gaining her roommate’s attention, “Go talk to her, now.”

“You cannot make me-.”

“I see how you look at her.”

Wednesday’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes locking with Enids.

“I see how you stare in class,” Enid said, “I notice how you have her schedule in your desk, and how you blush when she walks by.”

Wednesday opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“You like her, it’s clear as day. But you can’t break her heart just because you don’t want to accept your feelings for her.”

Wednesday glared at Enid, practically foaming at the mouth in anger. She wanted to respond, a little clap back about how she barely even knows you, but nothing came forward.

“Go to her, before it’s too late.” Enid finished, nodding her head at your retreading figure as you left the quad.

Wednesday huffed, giving her roommate one last silent threat before slamming her book shut, stuffing it in her bag, and quickly following after you. Her steps were quick and quiet, not wanting you to spin around and see her before she could get to you.

She eventually followed you to your dorm, coming up the stairs right as you shut the door. Her breathing was strained, and her face was slightly flushed with color from moving so fast. She slowly approached your door, apprehensive and suddenly nervous for the first time in her life.

What should she say to you? How should she speak? Should she be defensive? Or should she just confess her own feelings and see how you react? The consequences of all the outcomes were dreadful in her mind, but she had no other option than talking to you.

So she did what she does best, lost all expression from her face, sucked in a deep, and knocked on your door. She waited an antagonizingly long moment before stepping backwards when the lock clicked.

The door swung open, revealing you in black sweatpants, a white tank top, and still looking as depressed as you were during dinner. You froze when your eyes locked with Wednesday, your lips parting and eyes widening when you realized who was in front of you.

You both stood there for a moment, the world seeming to stop while you stared at each other. Wednesday was waiting for you to move or speak, while you were thinking the same.

“Can-.” Wednesday swallowed, clearing her throat, “Can I come in?”

You closed your mouth, eyeing around behind her, and nodded. She walked past you, turning when you closed the door and locked it. Her eyes scanned all over your walls, taking in the movie posters and tapestries that you had taped up. She awkwardly placed her bag at the foot of your bed, choosing to sit on the end of it while watching you move around and clean.

“Y/N.” Wednesday said, slightly irritated with how you were trying to ignore her with doing a spontaneous house-keeping.

“Yeah?” You replied timidly, still sweeping over by your closet.

“Come here.” She requested softly, patting the spot next to her.

You gulped, your shoulders tensing before you dropped the broom and sulked over to her. You plopped down next to her, leaning back until you laid flat on the mattress while she sat next to you.

“I read your letter.” Wednesday said after a moment of silence, “It was…passionate.”

“Oh my god just say you felt uncomfortable.” You groaned, putting your hands on your face.

Wednesday paused, letting you ramble and complain about the incidents from yesterday’s lunch fiasco. She listened until she had enough, slamming her hand onto your thigh to silence you.

“I actually found your confession to be quite exceptionally written for someone like you.” She murmured, her thumb absentmindedly stroking your skin, “You should consider a writing class.”

You eyed her warily, skeptical of her words. Slowly, you sat up, trying your best to not cause her to move her hand, “You really think so?”

“Yes, and I also have some of my own things to confess…” The ravenette said, tearing her eyes away from yours to look at the floor.

You placed your hand on top of hers, a silent encouragement to speak her mind.

“I have realized that I myself have my own feelings I need to share.” Wednesday started, her hand twitching under yours, “It has come to my attention that I have gained something called a “crush” on you-.”

Her sentence was interrupted with lips crashing into her own, salty but soft and welcoming with warmth. She instantly reciprocated, her hands sliding around you neck while yours grabbed at her waist.

Her lips were plump and tasty to you, flavored like black cherries and stale burgundy lipstick from this morning. You pulled at her, guiding her into your lap so you could kiss her more properly. Her tongue slid against yours, a small whimper passing through your mouth and into hers from her hand scratching at your neck.

You soon parted for air, giggling when she chased you. She huffed, but sighed in satisfaction when you tucked your face into her neck, pressing a few kisses there that made her stomach all fluttery.

“Your heart is beating super fast.” You noted, hugging her closer when her fingers wound into your hair, “Do I make you that flustered-?”

“Be quiet.” She whispered, smirking when she heard you purring from her fingers scratching your scalp.

You complied, leaning back with her in your arms when she pushed you slightly. She murmured soft praises to you, guiding you into a deep sleep that you so desperately needed.

“Sleep Y/N.” She cooed in your ear, humming when your eyes fluttered shut, “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You felt your brain drift off into slumber, a smile etched on your face while you held the girl of your dreams.

What wonderful bliss…

——————

taglist: @cartierdreamx  @tundra1029 @red1culous @vorsdany @andsoigotabutterfly @theafterofnevermore @yomomisgay @house-of-lovin @slvt4lanadelrey @thenextdawn @nepobaby08 @dunohilly @somekindofpoet @alexkolax @cinffy23 @pedrosprincess @amberfreemansburntface @myfturn

[miraclewoozi]

hi j!! congratulations on 500!! can’t think of anyone who deserves it more than you :) hope you’re having a lovely day! just wanted to send in a request:

❛ don’t be a stranger, okay? ❜ from the fluff list with woozi?

it’s no pressure though! thank you so much <33 mwah

LEE JIHOON, YOUR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT I.T GUY. - l.jh

pair : jihoon x gn!reader prompt : “ don’t be a stranger, okay? ” wc : 2.3k heads up : coworker!jihoon. fluff. kinda silly.  notes : HI BESTIE thank u sm for sending this in!!!! i hope you like it.<3 notes 2.0 : everyone deserves an emotional support IT guy, in my unprofessional opinion. i also think that 100% of those should be woozi.

You knew Jihoon was leaving. You’ve had a lot of time to prepare for this: he told you before he even handed in his resignation that he had accepted a job offer elsewhere. But despite trying everything in your power (including, but not limited to, bribery, begging and three whole days of the cold shoulder), his decision didn’t change. When you gave him a full lecture about abandonment and betrayal, and the fact that nobody else in your work’s IT department comes close to solving some of the shit that happens with your computer…

He had the audacity to fucking laugh. 

In your moment of desperation. Your hour of need. Practically begging on your knees (all right, he was stood next to your desk while you were looking up at him from your office chair) for him not to leave you high and dry like this, he patted you on the shoulder and chuckled as he told you that you’d be fine. As if this wasn’t actually, literally, the end of the world. 

Asshole. 

And okay, whatever, maybe Jihoon isn’t ‘just’ the only person on the tech team who understands that you’ve been followed by a curse when it comes to computers since you were in middle school. Maybe he isn’t just so good at his job that him leaving has the potential to ruin your ability to do yours.

Maybe... it’s a little bit deeper than that.

You first met nearly five years ago, when he was brand new. In his first week, he came stumbling into your office, bleary eyed and coffee in hand, at 8:15 on a Monday morning to try and ‘fix’ your PC. After about 6 seconds of fumbling, your screens came to life and he flushed as he told you that a cable on one of your monitors had just come loose. Ever since, you’ve been totally taken with him: with his frowny concentrating face, his pretty, nimble fingers, his quietly delivered jokes. The way he always goes pink when the older ladies in your office coo over him and how he splutters when they tease you for practically being work-married, by now.

Not least because he’s a very nice guy, and you find him so easy to talk to, and now? Now he's leaving you. 

The guy who brings you snacks on days you have to work through your lunch breaks. The guy who comes by just to make sure you’re not about to dive out of a second floor window on a Wednesday afternoon. One of the special few people you choose to hang out with outside of work. He’s the man who meets you for coffee some weekends and lets you complain about the fact that the next closest person in your department to you in age could still be your mother, while he complains to you about bossy executives who escalate their IT jobs to a ‘critical incident’ after just five minutes. Jihoon is the guy who has brought you a silly gift to decorate your desk with every birthday and Christmas since you met. The guy who picks you up (with breakfast) when your car is in the shop getting work done. 

He even pretended to be your boyfriend one year when Johnny from accounting started to make moves on you during the annual Christmas function. (Perhaps him posessively keeping a hand on your thigh every minute you were sat down next to each other made it the best night of your life.)

All this to say… he gets you. He always has. Your weird little friendship with him works, and even though you still get butterflies every time you see him, you’ve never felt so comfortable with a colleague before. You can ignore your little crush when you start thinking about your devastation over him being gone soon. Your feelings have no part to play in Jihoon being someone you trust, someone who helps you immeasurably: someone who makes your working life a little more bearable. 

What on Earth are you going to do without him?

His last day has rolled around faster than you know what to do with, and at 3:30 on Friday afternoon, like clockwork, his head appears around your office door. An apologetic smile replaces the cheeky one he usually wears when he shows up, and you narrow your eyes at him before telling him to go away.

“Charming as ever,” he laughs, sliding into your office anyway and making a beeline for you, waving at the people who glance up and greet him. He leans against your desk and you sit back finally, crossing your arms. 

“I’m busy,” you lie, frowning at your screen. You finished everything you needed to do about ten minutes ago, but you’re not about to let him — or anyone, for that matter — know so. You’ve worked hard to master the art of looking occupied and you’re deploying every tactic you know: there’s no way you’re going to get five more projects added to your to-do list this close to home-time. “Traitor.”

“Last thing on a Friday? Like hell you are,” Jihoon chuckles, leaning down and looking at your screen too, speaking quietly enough to ensure no one around you can to hear him. 

“Blow my cover and I’ll slash your tyres,” you playfully threaten under your breath. “I’ve already rejected a meeting request this afternoon.”

“Well, aren’t you a team player,” he quips, rolling his eyes before he sits back upright and says louder, “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to drop this off.”

He places a small brown bag on top of a neatly stacked pile of paperwork on the left hand side of your desk and gestures for you to look inside. When you do, you know your attempt at a stoic gaze starts to soften and you look up at him again with a saddened pout. 

“Hey,” you say quietly. “You can’t do this to me, I’m fragile enough already.”

It’s just a muffin, for crying out loud. He’s been bringing you these from the bakery across the street every week, for as many weeks as you can remember. But something about him doing it on his last day makes your heart beat out a funny little pattern and you bite the inside of your lip as he shakes his head. 

His hair is tied low today with a few pieces left out to frame his face: it softens him, giving him a bit of a curtain to hide behind, but you can still see his cheeks flush as he glances away from you. You slip your hand into the bag and pull the muffin out, setting it on your desk and peeling the paper back. 

“I’m really gonna miss you,” Jihoon says, momentarily stopping you as you rummage through your desk drawer for the cutlery set you keep wrapped up in there. You just wanted a knife so you could cut it in two. You just wanted to share this last little treat with him.

There are a million ways you could respond. Last-ditch attempts at telling him to retract his notice to leave. Advise that it’s his own fault. Pretend like you’re not going to be miserable here without him. To name but a few. 

But the fact that he’s picked up, and started to play with, the little fidget cube you keep by your pen holder for particularly boring Teams calls tells you that he isn’t saying it in the way he does when you’re taking a week off to go on vacation.

His thumbs rhythmically play with the little clicking buttons on one side and you pull the blunt knife free from the plastic bag hidden beneath your favourite notebook. Instead of teasing him, you cut the muffin equally and pick up one piece, holding it out to him.

“I’m gonna miss you too.”

He eyes you to make sure you’re certain before he takes the slice out of your hand and holds it in his fingers. You pick up the other piece and extend it towards him, bumping the two halves together in a mock ‘cheers’ for the time you’ve spent together. 

You take bites from the muffin in unison and you know the zesty lemon flavour spills onto his tongue at the same time as it does yours. Soft hums come from the both of you and Jihoon tilts his head back for emphasis, too, sighing contentedly after he swallows. 

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” You ask of him, laying the paper bag down flat and putting your own piece on top of it. “I mean it. You better not forget about me.”

“As if I ever could,” he says.

“You might, if there’s someone at your new job more pitiful than I am,” you counter. “You’ll have a replacement ‘me’ quicker than you can blink.”

Jihoon laughs, setting what’s left of his half of the muffin down too and dusting the crumbs off his fingers into the trash can at your side. 

“Trust me,” he starts, folding his arms. The subtle flex of his muscle makes the shirt he’s wearing tighten around his biceps and you glance down at them, at how his sleeves are pushed up to the elbows and his long, delicate fingers lay over the neatly folded cotton. “My eyes are up here. Trust me — I don’t want a 'replacement you'.”

You know your eyes go wide as he calls you up for staring and you look at his face immediately, at the coy smile he’s wearing, at the way the tips of his ears — just visible through the way his hair separates — are dusted pink. You just nod. He takes another bite, savours, and swallows it before talking again.

“So, I actually… kind of lied? There’s another reason I came down here, uh—”

You know this catches the attention of your office’s resident blabbermouth by the way her eyebrows pick up from a few desks in front of you and you tap his hip with the back of your hand, darting your eyes towards the door quickly to hush him. Jihoon catches your drift, nods, and stands up; you lock your computer and lead him out. When you’re in the hallway, door secured (and checked) behind you, he turns to face you again, leaning one shoulder against the wall.

“Okay. Shoot.”

“Okay,” Jihoon nods, tilting his head forwards for a second to gather his thoughts before he shakes his hair out of his eyes and looks back up at you. “I-… I know HR have this whole thing about, like… internal… relationships, and- and stuff? So I didn’t ever… you know—”

You hold your breath, clasping your hands behind you in the hopes he doesn’t see how they start twitching. His own, you realise, are deep in the pockets of his slacks. For the same reason?

“I wanted to. Trust me. For— shit, for so long, but I didn’t know if you’d go for it, and I really didn’t want to have, like… anyway — uh-…”

The blush that was formerly only given away by its presence on his ears has migrated to his cheeks now, and is starting to spread dangerously towards his temples and down his neck. He keeps glancing everywhere around your head, as if he’s chasing pixies in the air with his eyes. It's adorable, but...

“And… I guess what I wanted to say, is—”

“Yes,” you say before he can finish. He’s never been the most outgoing but you’ve still never seen Jihoon fall over his words like this before; you’re starting to feel agonised by how long it’s taking him to get to the point. 

(Especially when said point is what you’ve been waiting a small lifetime for.)

“I didn’t even ask—”

“You didn’t have to,” you laugh. He breaks into a chuckle as well. His shoulders relax. He exhales through his pretty, pursed lips. 

“Are you busy tomorrow night?” He asks, finally, thumb tapping against his forearm. 

“Free as a bird, actually.”

“I’ll pick you up at 7?” 

“I’ll be waiting.”

He lifts one hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose, still laughing, screwing up his eyes and his nose in a way that makes him look entirely too kissable. You have to forcibly remind yourself that there’s nothing you can do about that right now, though, that someone could walk through that door any second and technically, he still works here until 5:30pm today.

Tomorrow night? Well. That’ll be a different story.

“I’ll let you go back to clicking through your emails,” he says then, pushing off from the wall. “Text me later?”

“Keep your voice down,” you grin, settling your hand back on the doorknob. “Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Jihoon bites his bottom lip as he nods and starts to back away, ultimately beginning on the walk back to his own department. You, however, need to let yourself calm down before you can so much as think about going back into your office: you fan your face with your hands and take a couple of deep breaths first, and only when you’re sure that there are no visible signs of glee left on your face do you re-enter, walking as nonchalantly to your desk as you can and pretending like every middle-aged, bespectacled set of eyes aren’t waiting for you to spill the gossip. 

You don’t need to spill anything, though. Pressed to the bottom of your keyboard, clear as day, — he must have done this as soon as you stood up — is a bright yellow Post-It. His immediately recognisable — but almost illegible — handwriting in the thick, black felt-tipped pens he always uses decorates the note, accompanied by a signature smiley face in the top corner. 

The ink is dry. The paper is a little curled. He wrote this before he came to find you, the giddy voice in your brain tells you. The words he’s written down only heighten that feeling. 

He gets you. He always has.

Don’t be a stranger, okay? Miss you already. - J.

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated.&lt;3

[rinrin-the-shark-teen]

I need all of the adults to actually take action of Steve's living conditions from the moment they realize that he has the shittiest parents ever.

After the first round with the upside down Joyce cannot comprehend when Steve tells her not to call his home since there will be no one there. His mom will certainly not take care of him, she barely even calls for important dates. He is always alone, so he will just drive home with all his injuries and make do. Steve quickly understands why neither of the Byers ever goes against her will. She checks all his injuries and makes him a makeshift bedroom in their living room until he is better. She will not take no for an answer. Steve stays for almost a month there and practically has to get a doctor's note saying he is fine now before she lets him go.

Hopper sits him down eventually and makes him explain his living situation. Steve goes in as little details as possible about it, trying to brush it off but Jim is not happy and surely not believing it. He starts building a case at the station if Steve ever needs their help and you know, prepare in case they somehow get worse. Steve will have all the evidence needed to ruin them with proof of child neglect and other much much worse.

Claudia Henderson immediately starts asking for his help as home as an excuse to have him at their place and feed him. "Steve sweetie? Can you come over and help me get the door unstuck? Can you help with the faucet? Do you think we need to repaint?" And then Steve is at their place more and more and coming back home with too much homemade food. He eventually shared it with the Munsons as he cannot eat all of that by himself before it goes bad. She also insists on teaching him how to cook and they eventually fall into a routine.

Wayne Munson immediately brings him under his wing after being Eddie's personal nurse. He asks him to come over to watch games, he calls him son knowing perfectly well the impact it has on Steve if the tears in his eyes are anything to go by. He teaches him how to maintain his car that he loves so much so he doesnt get taken advantage of for being a Harrington. He gets him his own mug to add to the collection and drinks his coffee in silence pretty much every morning with Wayne while Eddie is still snoozing in his room.

Karen Wheeler starts making 3 sets of lunches. She sends him his lunch with Mike, which kills Mike's soul every day. "First Nancy, then my mom and now Eddie? What is it with you Steve?"

Steve by S4 has a whole routine for his week. - Sundays cooking with the Hendersons. They cook together and Steve and Claudia exchange new recipes and try new ones every week. - Mondays are spent at his own place and Hopper comes by after the end of his shift and they just watch TV and chat about their day with a beer in their hands. - Tuesdays is family dinner at the Byers. Steve always brings desert (that he learned from Claudia) even tho Joyce tells him that only his presence is needed. They usually catch up while doing the dishes. - Wednesdays he has a late shift at Family Video with Robin but he always takes time to chat with her parents before they get on their way. - Thursdays is DnD night, so he brings the little gremlins home. Not without a quick chat with their mothers tho. - Fridays and Saturdays are usually nights spent with Eddie, and by proxy with Wayne as well. They have dinner and if Wayne is still up for it they watch a movie. Most of the time he is asleep halfway, but they dont mind. Wayne brings a homey feeling to the place, his soft snores a background noise to their night.

So then the Harrington's come back after everything and they throw Steve out of the house for being a disappointment and achieving nothing in life. They will not just let him live rent free while he wastes away being nobody in this dead town. He is nothing but a shame to their name.

Imagine their absolute surprise when see 4 adults basically fighting in their frontyard over who will adopt Steve. Claudia is begging Steve to choose her and that way him and Dustin can finally be actual brothers. He would have his own room and they could decorate it together and they would always be just a few meters away. Then Joyce is saying that she basically adopted him since 83 and he IS family already. Putting on paper would just be the last step to it. Hopper is saying that he has been taking care of him since the first "disaster" unlike his own parents. He doesnt insist much since they all live together with Joyce now, so she can do the fighting for him.

And then Steve turns to Wayne, waiting for his arguments to be his official son now, but Wayne just casually shrugs and looks at the others. Steve lets go of a small "oh", his heart breaking a little even tho there are literal adults fighting for him right now, he foolishly expected the same from him. and when Wayne notices this, he is very quick to correct him. "Steve, don't get this wrong son. I am not fighting with them because it would be unfair. They are trying their best to make you one of them, but I have an advantage. You will be a Munson sooner or later, no matter who adopts you. My boy will make an honest man out of you, I raised him right after all" and he squeezes his shoulder. Steve just stares at him, face bright red while his eyes begin to water.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Imagine the firsts getting competitive over queens blood

Why Queen's Blood Is Banned From SOLDIER, A List

• Some people don't know how to play fair and make up rules on the spot, which results in arguments between opponents. One time Zack made up the rule that slapping down three cactuar cards automatically wins the game, and Kunsel was so enraged he shoved a cactuar card down Zack's throat.

• Some people⏤Sephiroth⏤are too good at QB and and it angers others who don't stand a chance against them, leading to cheating accusations. This came after Angeal was so convinced Sephiroth was cheating that he called the police. This resulted in Lazard having to explain to the dispatched officers that the "cheating" in question was because of QB and not Sephiroth cheating on his apparent lover Angeal.

• Some people⏤Genesis⏤don't know how to lose, which turns the above point violent. Genesis has been known to throw entire decks out the window and set them on fire if he loses. If he loses to Sephiroth, guarantee the table will be broken in half and they end up on the ground in a fist fight.

• Sephiroth lost to Genesis once and Genesis never let him forget it, bringing it up in every conversation. Sephiroth grew tired of this, so he did the healthy thing and attempted to staple Genesis's mouth shut.

• The matches take too long because no one wants to lose, so they spend time planning their moves and strategies. One match between Angeal and Zack took three hours, they skipped a giant mission they had been prepping for weeks for, Lazard had a heart attack, and in the end Zack realized he had spent three hours pouring his concentration into the game for nothing. He had to be sedated.

• The Counterfeit Booster Pack Fiasco: Kunsel started selling shady "limited edition" QB decks behind Lazard's back⏤selling things is also banned from the 49th floor. They started selling like hot cakes, but Lazard caught wind that there was something going on. So he interrogated Sephiroth.

Lazard: I know that there's unauthorized goods being distributed amongst the program.

Sephiroth: You don't say.

Lazard: Tell me what it is.

Sephiroth: How would I know?

Lazard: Eyewitnesses claim to have seen you purchase something from Kunsel in the men's bathroom this morning.

Sephiroth, not thinking AT ALL: It was candy.

• And that's why sniffer dogs were brought in at 9 AM on a Wednesday and everyone had to do a drug test.

• Random people pop in at random times of the day to play against SOLDIERs. Reno uses this as a way to bet money and has scammed Zack out of three paychecks already. Cloud swings by on occasion to beat all three 1sts, enjoy watching them lose, and leaves.

• Deck theft runs rampant. Every day there are reports over stolen QB decks and accusations that have ruined several friendships, which hinders everyone's ability to work together. No one is safe. Sephiroth's deck got stolen, Genesis's deck got stolen, Angeal accused Sephiroth and Genesis of theft, Zack....has a suspicious amount of good cards.

• People play when they should be working.

Lazard: Angeal, where's your mission report?

Angeal: Genesis ate it.

Lazard: Excuse me?

Angeal: I beat Sephiroth in a QB match and Genesis was so jealous and enraged he grabbed the report right off my desk and chewed off a chunk.

Lazard: I'm convinced that there's crack in those apples.

• The straw that broke the camel's back and got QB officially banned, though, was the match between Sephiroth and Genesis that ended in them getting stitches because they discovered a way to effectively stab each other with the cards.

• Its rumored that the mere mention of Queen's Blood is enough to make Lazard have a nervous breakdown.

[m00nsbaby]

Do you want me (dead)?

Jake Lockley x F! Reader.

Tags & warnings. College AU, no mentions of Marc or Steven, explicit, +18, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating, no use of y/n.

Word count. 3.5k

Summary. He was childish. Unbearable.

It was as if he had a magnet to you, always bothering you, finding a way to ruin your day in some manner. 

You were going to kill Jake Lockley at any moment.

You decided not to blame anyone else but yourself for your bad mood. It had been a conscious choice to only get two hours of sleep due to your sudden desire for a movie marathon by yourself.

You didn't have many friends; you exchanged words with a couple of people, if you were lucky. On any given day, you would arrive, attend class, and then spend the rest of your time alone somewhere else. So, on a Wednesday morning, you could afford to rest your arms on your desk and hide your face there, dozing off until the class started.

Or at least, that was the plan.

"Cariño." If you were a cat, that single word would have been enough to make your fur stand on end. You didn't even bother lifting your head to see who was by your side.

He cleared his throat louder. "Cariño."

When you raised your hand to show him your middle finger, he smiled satisfactorily. Jake was content with getting even a gram of your attention. There was a personal pleasure in getting under your skin, as if his day got 200 times better.

"Did you sleep well?" He was going to keep pushing until he got more from you. "I slept amazingly, actually. Last night, I found a video where..."

"I'm not interested, Lockley." You growled, finally raising your head.

"There she is." You wanted to wipe that cocky smile off his face with a punch. You could only hope that one day he would annoy the wrong person, and someone else would take care of the dirty work. "As beautiful as always."

"I hate you."

"Ouch, my heart." He placed a hand over his chest, still smiling.

"Go to..."

"Good morning, everyone!" You nibbled on your lower lip to avoid screaming over the professor about how much you wished a truck would run over Jake Lockley.

At least with this, you were free of him for the next three hours.

It wasn't long before a poorly folded note landed on your desk.

Hey :)

With your index finger, you pushed the note, letting it fall to the floor.

Heyyyyy!!!

The next one also landed on the floor.

Hey, hey, hey, hey

You caught a glimpse of what looked like a poorly drawn cat. Next paper to the floor.

You didn't even bother opening the next one.

"Professor?" Hearing him speak again made you lift your gaze, wondering what nonsense he would come up with this time. "We have a trash bin in the classroom for a reason, right?" As he said this, he pointed at you and then at the papers on the floor.

"No, no, no! I didn't..."

"You two again?" The professor pressed the bridge of his nose with his fingers as he sighed heavily. His gaze landed on you almost immediately. "Get out of my class."

"But..."

"Out." After a few seconds of silence, you realized he was serious, and you had no choice but to make as much noise as possible with your belongings while standing up.

"Go to hell, Lockley." You said loudly, eliciting a collective 'uhhh' from the group. If you were already in trouble, it was better to have a good reason.

"You're staying for..."

"Detention, yes, yes." You growled as you slammed the classroom door.

You could still feel Jake's gaze on you, along with his triumphant smile. You didn't cross paths with him for the rest of the day.

It seemed that the next day fate was on your side because there were no signs of life from him.

Classes passed as boring as ever, in fact, even more so now that you had no one to argue or talk with. 

It was quieter without him around. Well, the good side was that you were finally free to go home.

You had no choice but to cross the edge of the football field to leave school. Both hands were in your pockets, and you had your earphones on. You were almost thanking God for getting through another day without Jake Lockley.

Almost.

At the last row of stands, there was someone. It wasn't uncommon, and you would have done your best to avoid them, except this time you recognized who it was even with his face hidden in his hands.

You rolled your eyes when you realized you couldn't even have a single day of peace.

Fortunately, not even the sound of footsteps caught his attention. In fact, it left you more intrigued how loudly he was breathing. Perhaps today was the day he finally crossed paths with the wrong person and got put in place.

You shrugged to yourself and kept walking, but your chest decided it didn't agree with you.

What if something had happened to him? Was he crying?

"Keep walking, keep walking, keep walking," you thought to yourself when your legs wouldn't move any further.

Ugh.

You retraced your steps.

"Are you okay?" It came out in a stronger tone than you would have liked.

When he lifted his head from his hands, your stomach churned. You always thought you'd enjoy the day someone finally gave Jake Lockley what he deserved, but this felt horrible.

He nodded silently when he realized it was you.

There was a cut along the bridge of his nose and another on his eyebrow. Blood was flowing from one of his nostrils and reached his lips, all on top of a black eye.

His response should have been enough for you to continue your way, but...

"You don't look good."

He laughed, not genuinely, but one of those laughs you give automatically when someone tries to cheer you up in the worst moments, even though you weren't joking.

"You should've seen the other guy." You didn't smile.

He was a jerk, even in this situation.

You hesitated a few seconds before making your decision. You took a seat next to him on the stands, close enough for your leg to brush against his.

You were silent for what felt like an eternity. Jake didn't even bother to look at you, but at least he wasn't hiding in his hands anymore; he was watching the field as if the grass were the most interesting thing on planet Earth.

"Can I see?" you whispered after a while.

"Huh?"

"Your face. Can I see?" He finally turned to you in silence, and you did the same, daring to look at him. If you noticed any hint of him about to give you that stupid smug grin he always had, you'd make him regret it even more.

But no. Those huge brown eyes were fixed on you as if he were a lost puppy.

You used your right hand to gently hold his chin, lifting his head slightly to search for any other injuries. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be more than what you noticed at first glance.

You pulled the sleeve of your sweater enough to cover part of your hand, which was such a light shade of pink it could pass for white, though you didn't care as you used the fabric to wipe away the blood running from his nose.

If only you had been aware of how Jake's heart was racing.

You licked the fabric slightly to dampen it when you noticed the blood had started to dry.

"Is this why you didn't go to class?" You tried to fill the silence that was starting to make you nervous.

He nodded without saying anything more. You never thought you'd wish to hear his annoying voice.

"Was it a fight?" Another nod. Well, knowing there was no one else bothering him was enough to give you some relief. You kept cleaning. Under his nose and upper lip. The wounds looked less dramatic without so much blood.

"Done."

He licked his lips, cleaning off any remaining blood. You adjusted your backpack on your shoulder when you finally stood up.

"It's late, Jake. Go home." you whispered. You didn't care if it seemed like you were talking to yourself. You didn't wait for a response before walking away, or at least taking two steps before his voice stopped you.

"Hey." You spun on your own feet to look at him. "Thanks, cariño."

You smiled; you couldn't have stopped it even if you wanted to.

"See you tomorrow." It was the last thing you said before continuing to walk.

And yes, you did see him the next day, against your will.

The following days were torturous for both him and you, as Jake set out to annoy you in new ways.

He asked you at least 4 times if you would spend some time with him after school, like a date or in any situation. He simply took your concern for him as a way of saying, "Maybe I don't hate you as much as you think."

You were on the verge of exploding.

You were tangling the cable of your laptop when you noticed a silhouette in front of you. You didn't have to look up to know who it was.

It was just the two of you in the classroom now that everyone had left.

"What do you want, Lockley?" You didn't look up as you packed your charger into your backpack.

"I want to know if we can hang out after school," his tone was firm, more than usual.

"I already told you, Jake, in how many languages do you want me to say it? Fortunately, it's the same in Spanish or I doubt you'd understand," you were not in the mood, not today, not now, and especially not after having rejected his invitations several times before.

"I just want to buy you an ice cream, cariño. Or do you prefer a smoothie? A frappe?" The poor guy was desperate.

"I don't want anything." You finally turned to face him with a frown, adjusting your backpack on your shoulder.

"¿Por qué tienes que portarte como una idiota conmigo?"

"I understood it, you enormous jerk!" Your voice rose almost immediately as you pushed his chest to keep him away. "We're not friends, Jake, we're nothing. I can't stand you, and you can't stand me either. What happened the other day was just some human empathy."

Your index finger kept hitting his chest again and again as you spoke, your frown remained deep.

In Jake's eyes, you looked nothing more than an annoyed kitten, hissing when someone gets too close.

"So leave me alone, seriously, because I swear if you keep this up, I'm going to..." You couldn't continue speaking because his lips were on yours, devouring them like a starving man.

Your eyes opened in surprise just seconds before you succumbed to his delicious taste of mint and cigarettes. Your hands slowly traveled up his chest until they reached his shoulders, which you held onto when your legs weakened.

It wasn't fair that he was such a good kisser.

He moved forward slowly, guiding you until your body was pressed against one of the walls of the classroom. His hands were hooked onto your waist as if you were going to run away at any moment.

You had no intention of doing that; your mind was genuinely somewhere else. However, after eliciting a delicious moan from the guy in front of you by biting his lower lip, your thoughts were momentarily disrupted.

"Please, hermosa." he whispered with a husky voice as his kisses trailed down your chin. "Please, just one date."

You couldn't hate him more. How could he do this to you?

Your eyes were closed as you tilted your head to the side, guiding Jake to your neck. You nodded without saying anything.

A moan escaped your lips when you felt him bite your skin, sucking with enough force to leave a mark.

"Fuck, Lockley," you whispered with heavy breaths as he pulled away from your neck. That stupid cocky smile. Ugh.

"Then I'll see you this afternoon." You hated him. Really, you hated him, just as much as you hated his ridiculous and soft lips now coated with your strawberry-flavored lip gloss.

"Fine." You wished your mouth had expressed what you felt, but your body was acting faster than you."

He picked you up in his car, and you would have preferred to jump out of it while it was still moving than admit that there was something about being in Jake Lockley's car that made you feel... special, especially after hearing him call it 'baby' more than once.

The car smelled like leather, cigarettes, and his cologne.

"You look beautiful." You rolled your eyes with a smile as he got in on the opposite side of the car.

"Thanks, Jake." If you were going to spend so many hours together, the least you could do was try to make it tolerable for both of you. However, you remained on guard for any stupid remarks that might come out of his mouth.

"So, ice cream?"

"I love the vanilla ice cream from McDonald's."

"McDonald's it is, then."

Was it because it was him, or were you just easily impressed to feel delighted with an invitation for a one-dollar ice cream?

"Are you going to tell me why you got beaten up the other day?"

"I didn't get beaten up." He rolled his eyes as he placed a hand on your seat to look back, reversing the car.

Oh, that was...

Oh.

"Well." You imitated his disgusted gesture. "Why did they fight you then?"

"It was over something stupid. Can we talk about something else?"

"And what could you and I talk about?"

"About school?"

"Boring." When he stopped at the drive-thru, you remained silent, smiling.

"Two vanilla ice creams, and... do you want something else?" Was this what it felt like to be the passenger princess?

"Fries."

"And some fries."

"Have you ever eaten fries with ice cream?" You asked as he drove forward to receive his ridiculously small order.

"Together? No." He frowned as he looked in his wallet for the exact 3 dollars to pay the girl at the window. "That's disgusting."

Receiving your ice cream made you confirm that this was what it felt like to be a passenger princess.

"Or maybe you just have terrible taste." You also received the fries.

You would have never imagined that Jake Lockley's idea of a date was sitting in his car, chatting and eating fast food, but you weren't complaining. He was doing an excellent job of making you feel comfortable.

You didn't even notice when the sun set, and the McDonald's parking lot emptied, leaving just the two of you.

"Jake? They'll worry at home, it’s late."

"Sorry, cariño! I didn't even notice." He quickly started the car, and you laughed because you would have never imagined that a guy like him would care about what your parents might say.

You sighed heavily as you got back into your seat. If only the day lasted longer.

And if only the way home was longer.

He opened the door for you just as he did when you got in, and you smiled in thanks. You turned on your heels to face him after stepping onto the sidewalk; you needed the extra inches to be able to look him in the eyes.

"Thanks for driving me," you whispered as he took a step closer to you.

"You're welcome, cariño."

"And thanks for the ice cream."

"You're welcome, cariño." he repeated, trying not to laugh.

"And the fries." His hands found your waist as he pulled you closer, keeping you on the edge of the curb.

"You're welcome, cariño." He finally laughed before leaning in just enough to leave a chaste kiss on your lips.

"See you tomorrow." Another kiss, short and gentle.

Both of you went to bed with the most ridiculous smiles on your faces.

You were looking around nervously, feeling a pit in your stomach at the mere idea of running into Jake. How should you approach him this time? Did you want to deal with the curious stares from your classmates?

Well, you didn't have to look for an answer because a hand pulling your arm took you out of your reverie. Before you could react, you found yourself locked inside the janitor's closet, and once again, you were about to kill Jake Lockley.

"Jake... What the fuck?" You said with almost disappointment. Just when you thought he couldn't annoy you any more.

There was no response from him. The only thing you got from him was the most desperate kiss you had ever received. His tongue was exploring every inch of you while you tried not to knock over the stack of mops and brooms next to you.

"I missed you," was all he could say between kisses. You wondered if he had always been this intense or if it was his strange fixation on you.

You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath, looking at him. Bright brown eyes, flushed cheeks, and lips now pink from kissing you.

Maybe you didn't hate him as much as you had sworn.

"Can you lock the door?" you whispered, looking at him with your lower lip between your teeth. Maybe it would be fair to give back some of the mistreatment you've put him through lately, while he looks at you with so much admiration.

Maybe he deserved it.

He stretched out a hand to obey you, when the 'click' resounded in the small closet, your hands immediately went to his jeans, you unbuttoned them without looking away.

“¿C-cariño?"

"Shhh, do you want to get caught?" You questioned with a smile that nearly made Jake faint.

You pulled his jeans down enough to free his erection, still covered by his boxers. You gathered saliva in your mouth before running your tongue along it to moisten his underwear, all without taking your eyes off of his.

He exhaled heavily causing a smile in you. You licked over the top of the cloth again a few times before slowly lowering his boxers.

You swallowed when his cock was in front of your face.

"What is it, hermosa?" He questioned with a mocking smile when he noticed the surprise in your expression.

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes as you spit into your hand to hold it. You licked its entire length again from base to tip.

You aligned it to your mouth with your hand while your lips were in charge of leaving wet kisses on the head, not caring that your lips were being stained with pre-cum.

"Hermosa." Jake repeated, his voice shaking. You already knew what he wanted but your habit of bothering him was always present in you.

"Yes, Jakey?"

"Please."

"Please, what?" You looked up at him as you traced little circles on his slit.

“Put it in your mouth. Please please please".

“You are adorable when you ask properly.” You gave a small laugh before obeying him. You took a deep breath in through your nose and you pushed it into your mouth in one movement, to the point where you felt it hitting your throat.

“Carajo.” He whispered breathlessly and finally placed a hand in your hair. He held a few strands in his fist and pushed you further against him, to the point where your nose collided with his abdomen.

You'd have to fix your makeup when you got out of there.

And although your eyes began to water, you didn't move away or make any fight to push him, first dead before letting yourself lose. After a few seconds he released you, letting you take a breath and sniff.

"Do you want to kill me?" You whispered laughing as you licked your lips.

"It seems to me that you are the one who wants to kill me, hermosa." His fingers squeezed your chin before pulling you back against his erection.

It didn't take long for you to open your lips for him, taking his entire member into your mouth for the second time.

Your gaze was still fixed on him.

"Are you going to swallow it all, mi amor?" With teary eyes you nodded, your hands resting on his thighs. "Buena chica."

Both hands went to your hair to keep you still. You obeyed and opened your mouth wide for him, even sticking your tongue out from under his cock so he could move freely.

He thrusted into your mouth without an ounce of mercy, you could feel your saliva run down your chin to your neck. When his movements became more frantic you knew he was getting closer.

The heat in his lower abdomen had him covering his mouth with one hand trying not to make any more noise.

One more hard thrust and Jake came. His hot cum ran down your throat as there wasn't enough room in your mouth to keep it there, it shot straight for you to swallow.

"Are you okay?" You questioned with a smirk as you wiped your chin with the back of your hand.

"Better than okay, cariño."

Hey :)

A note appeared on your desk, making you roll your eyes before laughing softly. You uncapped your pink pen to write underneath the horrible handwriting.

Hi! ♡

You filled in the heart before placing the paper on Jake's desk. You even winked at him when he looked surprised to receive a response.

Vanilla ice cream after classes?

And fries too? :)

[steddieas-shegoes]

hello again! here's an angsty little steddie thought for you, because I'm sad and i am putting my guys in angsty situations in my head to make me more sad because the brain is funny like that: Steve decides to swing by to visit Eddie after his shift. They've been hanging out a lot more lately,with Robin off to college and the kids preoccupied with school. It's something he looks forward to. He's been spending the day thinking bout the things Eddie says when it's just them. The way he tells Steve that people underestimate him, especially his intelligence. The jokes they share, the soft gazes over a blunt on the front porch. The best part of Steve's day. Truly the best part of his life, nowadays. Especially the soft moments they have together, where Eddie kisses his hairline with a hand resting on Steve's thigh. It's happened a few times but it never turns into a full fledged kiss, but he KNOWS it'll happen soon. He's about to knock on the trailer door when he hears Eddie chatting with his band mates, which is a surprise because band practice is on thursdays not wednesdays,but that's okay maybe he can get to know them a little bit-. "What are you even talking about, Eddie? you're practically drooling over Harrington every time he walks by" His hand freezes mid air and he blushes to himself. "Harrington? nah he is NOT my type." And that? oh. that's...not ideal. But, maybe he can switch up his style a little bit? He knows Eddie isn't the type to wear polos, that's. That's alright. "No way you're SUCH a liar!" "I'm not lying!" Maybe he's just trying to hide his crush?(Images flash in his mind of Eddie's hand creeping up his thigh, and his breath on his neck,before blushing and turning away. Placing his hands back onto his own lap. A soft smile and a blush high on his cheeks.) Maybe he's- "Okay shut up, I'll admit he's easy on the eyes. But dudes only got like two brain cells to rub together." Huh? But he told him monday that- ("You're so smart Stevie, they don't give you enough credit.") "I thought you hung out with him a bunch lately?" "Yeah,it beats watching wheel of fortune. It's funny to listen to what the king has to say, it's like talking to a door stopper." ("You always have something interesting to say.") The echoing laughter rushes through Steve's ears,grips his heart like a vice, before settling like a brick in his stomach. "Nothing behind those eyes!" (I always used to think your eyes were brown, Stevie. But there's green, and red!) Right. That's, that's. Hmm. That's. Go home. It's time to go home. "What was that?" Run back to the car. "Stevie?"Don't say anything. Get your keys get out TWOBRAINCELLS get OUT OF HERE YOU MORON. "Hey wait don't leave, did you uh overhear, of course you heard. God Steve I didn't mean it,I swear. i was just talking a big- I'm so sor-"Don'tlisten.Don'tcryyouidiot.STARTTHECARGETOUTOFHERE.ofcoursenot!ofcoursehedoesntwantyou!ofcoursehedidntthinkyouweresmart.stopcryinggohomegohomehedoesntwantyouherehedoesntwantyouatall.stopcrying.dryyour eyes(NOTHINGBEHINDTHOSEYES). just stop. Get out of here.

Hey

I’m holding your hand when I say this

how dare you (affectionate)

this broke my heart into 726251527382 pieces

in my head, Eddie follows him and begs for forgiveness and Steve makes him work for it because he’s not gonna let anyone in his life who won’t be all in even if it’s just as friends

Eddie does work for it. Harder than he worked to do anything else

he knows he fucked up so bad and just got carried away trying to get his bandmates off his back. he really genuinely didn’t believe anything he said but now he knows Steve thinks he did and he shouldn’t have even said it as a joke or exaggeration regardless of if Steve would hear or not

He even shows up the morning of Robin’s going away party to help run errands for Steve and set up in the rain that wasn’t in the forecast. Steve finds him crying on the back patio over one of the decorations that got ruined by the rain, and he apologizes a million times “I know it’s not enough it’ll never be enough but you have to know I wouldn’t do it on purpose I didn’t know there was rain coming and I would’ve kept it all inside” and then Steve is holding him and telling him it’s okay, all of it is okay

I can’t keep them sad for long it’s my most ridiculous trait

[trash-king18]

miggy hc’s

sorry for the delay on pt. 9 my loves. i just moved and things are a little hectic but here’s some head cannons i had written for mig (sfw and nsfw) pt. 9 should be up tmr or wednesday<3

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i feel like he’d absolutely convince you to get your nails done and pay for it too just so you could play with his hair and rub his back with them because he’s literally a sucker for it. like he’d be embarrassed about it at first and deny it but he’d be purring at your touch.. like literally though bc he’s half spider 

hear me out: on the lowest of keys miguel is kinda autism coded. LISTEN listen listen… the agitation, the sensory issues from heightened senses, the rigidity, the strong sense of justice, the need for seeking patterns to make sense of things that have happened, a fucking genius, (has a literal fucking rage meltdown in the movie) and would absolutely end up with an adhd golden retriever energy gf (partner if ur queer bc duh) 

would definitely think bigotry in general is “unintelligent and barbaric” homophobia especially and would defend any and all spider kids from bigots (let’s face it they’re all at least bi) even though he’s a grump he’d protect them. 

his love language is acts of service and physical touch

he likes to stay busy, even though you coax him into relaxing more, physically maybe not so much since hes always fighting bad guys…(or fucking you) but mentally. he’s reading, or watching documentaries, playing chess (he definitely programmed an ai himself that would be near impossible to beat just for the challenge and like analyzed the worlds best players. and just because i think it’s cute, you definitely introduced him to like a childish animated puzzle game on your phone that he insisted was stupid but then you wake up to find he stole your phone to play it at night. definitely gets frustrated with it and you make fun of him “it’s harder than it looks ok” 

when miguel started acting softer towards you lyla would tease him about it every chance and try to embarrass him in front of you 

if you are latina and(or) have curly hair like me i can see him getting all pouty when you straighten it. he’d tell you, you look gorgeous of course “you always do” but i feel as a latino he would just think your natural hair is absolutely gorgeous (curly or coily) 

when he comes out with you, if he does, he just holds stuff and watches over you. he will never initiate pda but he certainly doesn’t mind if you cling to him in front of all the people watching. unless you’re at work “reputations” and all that 

he’s not a dancer(but he’s extremely good at it)… unless maybe you’re walking down a shadowed street where there aren’t many people and there’s latin music he might be tempted to pull you into him to dance a little salsa or just feel your hips move when no one’s looking 

dates are more quiet, private, and thoughtful settings. 

is 100 percent not a morning person. blackout curtains and no alarms and while he will stay up all night working or wake up at the ass crack of dawn for missions he will bitch and moan about everything when you try to wake him up when he doesn’t have work and he is a pouting sulking grump when you do 

food. this man is always fucking hungry. but he cooks his own food or doesn’t eat at all and is as much a control freak in the kitchen as he is at work. and it takes you forever to convince him to let you cook, even though you’re perfectly good at it and better at certain things. definitely loves making you taste things as he cooks even when he’s made it before 

every time you pass a “mexican” place unless it’s actually authentic he’ll mutter under his voice cursing them saying they’re ruining his culture (they are). just imagine him driving/swinging past a california tortilla and rolling his eyes and scoffing 

miguel’s nightmares wake him up in a cold sweat more often then he’d care to admit. and as a light sleeper you are almost always already up stroking his face and hair and on the rare occasion you aren’t he’ll just pull you on top of him to feel and watch you instinctively cuddle into him. 

when you’re home you are glued to his side. he’s the: keep you on the kitchen counter while he cooks, shower together, literally tangle your bodies together in bed or on the couch, type of man. but his time away on missions which is frequent, gave you some breathing room. because as much as he’d presumably be the distant one he’s got domestic instincts like no other. he gets enough action at work that he’s definitely a homebody once you coax him into overworking himself less.

————

nsfw

2 word’s: cock. warming. any chance he gets to get himself inside you he takes, or he makes them. he is obsessed with the idea of making a permanent imprint of himself in your pussy and he 100 percent loves belly bulge. cuddling or working from home? you’re on his lap preferably in one of his shirts with his dick stuffed inside you. sleeping? probably ended up pulling your leg over his and (consensually!) slipping himself into your hole. one the rare occasion you sleep later than he does he’ll wake you up by lazily rutting into you. 

2 more words: panty ruin-er. and that’s all 

i don’t know exactly how to explain this one.. but he’s got a pretty dick. you can tell his hygiene is very good and he’s particular about everything and that goes for down there too.. but it’s just pretty. (idk if y’all know what i mean but sometimes you just see one and it just- idek the girls that get it, get it) 

he’s got an oral fixation and don’t tell me he doesn’t. mans a munch but he’s also perfectly satisfied to kiss, nip, lick, and suck at any other part of you. 

imo, he’s really not subby or even on the bottom he likes to be the one in control even the times where all he’s really doing is giving you everything you ask for. but dont assume that means he doesn’t absolutely love watching you ride him or give him head/hj. and when hes cranky he will sheepishly ask you for it almost like he’s embarrassed about being needy (he 100 percent is and you make fun of him for it all the time… after you fuck his soul out of course) 

he HATES being teased. give it but can’t take it. but the reason he doesn’t is because he will whimper a little and he would never hear the end of it. 

more than once he’s stopped you sucking his dick to pull you up purely to cum in you instead of your mouth (sorry bro man has a breeding kink i don’t know what to tell you) “wouldn’t want to waste that would we” 

the only thing that really truly makes him blush is when you grab/slap/poke his ass and you do it just for that reason and he will chase you around the house yelling at you(mostly playfully) after 

if you grind on him he’s usually pretty quick to try and just fuck you instead. because when you do you’ll start kissing his jaw and his neck just rubbing yourself on his bulge or his thigh and suddenly the thought and sight of you getting off just from that is enough to push back any thoughts of embarrassment at the sounds that leave his throat and he doesn’t like loosing control but he can’t help it with you 

i feel like if he found you touching yourself he would immediately worry it was because he wasn’t taking care of you well enough and ask what you wanted but you’d just laugh and tell him it was simply because you got wound up and impatient thinking about him. 

he can never finger you if he’s already wound up because.. claws 

as gentle and caring as he can be he still loves to overstimulate you. the aftercare is amazing but he will fuck as many orgasms out of you as he wants. sometimes he just can’t think straight until he gets to. 

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taglist:

@urmotherswhor3 @marcswife21 @l3laze @kirke-is-my-name @rexxesgirl @simp4miguell @urmomisafinewoman @dammittjanet