#this was all got in the first hour and a half of playing

[malereadermaniac]

Boyfriend Experience - Rodrick x Male reader

Long-form(ish) headcannons for dating Rodrick; from the start of it to the smut of it Top!Rodrick x Bottom!Reader word count: 1k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

The first time he really paid you any mind was at his party. As more and more people left, everyone kinda chilled out and decided on playing a big game of spin the bottle with a dare twist. As the only openly gay guy out of the many players, of course your dare had something to do with a guy; drunk young adults are constantly horny, so makes sense. Rodrick really took notice of you when you were made to sit on his lap for the (long) remainder of the game; and as to avoid any awkwardness, you two made quite a bit of conversation as other people kept doing dares. And after only really talking for half an hour, when the bottle landed on Rodrick, the two of you were dared to kiss - which you did do. And you both enjoyed it.

Rodrick started to crush on you after that party, he'd already debated whether or not he was straight, that experience with you just confirmed it for him really. You also started to crush on the man, who wouldn't though? He's a pretty hot guy and in a band as the drummer! Smash. However, a problem that arose very quickly into the talking stage was that Rodrick did NOT KNOW HOW TO FLIRT. It's not exactly that he didn't have the confidence to try, Rodrick was more than happy to to make many moves on you, they were all just a little awkward or corny - but you couldn't help but find that shit cute. The rocker would always walk you to classes and act as if your class was on his way, even though he wasn't even in your building. And when you'd ask him about it, Rodrick would take the opportunity to more blatantly flirt, but whatever words would come out of his mouth would always make you laugh rather than blush... "I go outta my way for ya 'cause a face like that is worth a thousand words~" "Haha... that doesn't even make sense" Rodrick's flirting did seriously improve after the two of you started dating; or maybe you're just seeing it through rose-coloured glasses. The man's flirts are still dorky or stupid but they tend to make more sense now; plus, Rodrick prefers to show his affection via physical touch anyways. You two will be at a party and your emo-of-a-boyfriend will already be hugging onto your waist and pulling you onto his lap; his arms snug around your waist, with either his head resting on your shoulder or your arms around his neck 'for balance'.

Rodrick's ego get's a ridiculous boost whenever you come over and watch his band practice, getting very excited on the inside but never letting it show (or at least he thinks he isn't letting it show...). But you don't complain, you have to admit that watching your boyfriend go ham on some drums while looking all cool and hot wasn't something you hated. It also makes your heart skip a beat when the drummer glimpses up at you as he beats the shit out of his drums, sneaking in a wink and a smirk, then going back to whatever loud ass song he was playing.

Contrary to popular belief, Rodrick is not some sex-god! Bro was a virgin before you! Sure, his confidence did fool quite a few people (you included), but confidence alone doesn't necessarily mean you pull... In fact, your boyfriend was such a virgin, that he had to wikihow tips on sex in the lead up to asking you to fuck! That being said though, after the first couple of nights together, where you mostly had to teach your boyfriend the ropes and be patient, Rodrick really got the hang of it! Like, really well, too well! His love for physical touch crosses over into intimate moments between you two, so expect many kisses along your body, fingers gliding over your skin, soft bites, a tight hold on your waist or hips or thigh. Oh and once Rodrick really gained some confidence when having sex with you? That's when your boyfriend became a fucking man, talking you through it like a pro; praising you, holding your leg up onto his built shoulder as he slowly thrusts into you, lowly singing you praises and chanting your name through his panting - holy shit this man knows how to get you off!

It's quite funny that Rodrick's mum really likes you. She finds that you're his only friend that's a good influence, meaning that Rodrick can do whatever he wants as long as he mentions you being there! You're also the only friend allowed to sleep round his; that being hilarious, because you're the only friend which Rodrick is fucking every other night. You're boyfriend's mum is blissfully unaware of you and her son doing ungodly things under her roof, and it's kind of a turn on for the both of you... Rodrick will be fingering you whilst shouting a 'goodnight' to his parents like it's nothing! Turning back around to you and giving you a small smirk and a 'shush', 'cause you wouldn't want his parents to hear you? Would you? You wouldn't want them to know how loose Rodrick gets you, you wouldn't want them to hear your hole making phallic sound of squelching, or to hear your pants and moans of their son's name. But that goes both ways! Rodrick would die if his parents heard his moaning and groaning of your name, if they saw his disheveled look as his fingers curled into your hair whilst you sucked his dick ever so nicely.

Cute little bonus: Rodrick gets suuuuuper jealous but doesn't know how to really express that... Which usually just leads to the man being a little emo in public and trying to show off! Emphasising the tiny height difference between you two by resting his head on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist, and even flexing his muscles; Rodrick pulls out all the stops in order to show off, in aims to get any small compliment from you so that he'll feel less jealous and inferior. In private though, his jealousy does come out a little more, your boyfriend becoming a soppy mess about some guy flirting with you; but don't worry, Rodrick's jealousy turns into horniness real quick!

[maryellencarter]

"and play a lot of video games" you know, I watch some video game Youtubers who are full-time streamers or video makers, that's how they make their living. Something that strikes me about the ones I watch is how welcoming they are to newbies who'd like to do what they do -- speedrunning, or bingo races, or challenge running or what have you. This is skewed, of course, because I'm generally looking for people who *are* like that, but it's still... they'd love to have more people involved, a bigger community of players doing what they love.

And I always think about, well, what if we could all do what we love without having to sell our souls to pay the bills? Because that's what UBI is about. What if people *could* sit around playing video games all day? We can see right now what that would be like, on a small scale, and the answer is "they'd put absurd amounts of effort in".

Take just one example. Breath of the Wild is famous for how fast it can be speedrun. The top BotW runner in the world, one Player5, streams five days a week, often for more than eight hours a day -- practicing frame-perfect inputs with the dedication of a professional piano player doing scales, testing out new strategies to see if they're consistent enough to use, and repeating the same runs over and over to shave off seconds. All while chatting with his viewers and making videos on how to do the glitches and run routes he shows off.

He recently became the first person to hold every main category of BotW world record at the same time, from any% (well under half an hour) to 100% (almost 15 hours). People will become experts at *anything* if you give them the freedom to do so. Dismissing a category of Things People Do as worthless or "lazy" says a lot more about the self-righteous asshats doing the dismissing than it does about the people who do that thing.

Of course, if we had UBI, not everyone who'd play video games all day would become a top speedrunner. But Player5 got into speedrunning in 2020, because the lockdown gave him the free time to try it out. If we all had the time and freedom to get into things that wouldn't necessarily make us money, we'd find out we had talents we've never even considered, or maybe we'd get to exercise talents we've stifled because we can't live off them. It would be a more artistic, more exploratory world.

My least favorite things about anti- UBI discourse is always the techbros whining that "nobody is going to work anymore! People will just watch Netflix all day!" and I have 2 responses:

1) Who the fuck cares. Who the fuck cares what people do with their time! That's kind of the fucking point!

2) People aren't going to stop laboring. Housework (look, it's right there in the word!) will still need to be done. So will maintenance on our homes and personal spaces. Children will still need carers, as will the elderly and disabled. There are millions of examples of ~work~ that we do all the time, uncompensated, that won't suddenly stop because we aren't forced to sell our labor to provide corporation's profits.

I'm not surprised that what is traditionally women's work is invisible to these dipshits, but it never fails to anger me.

Anyway. Join the IWW.

[ego13]

LOVE TALK ── yu jimin.

── finding yourself alone in paris, having found a beautiful stranger in a club who didn’t understand your language, you don’t mind hanging out with her in her car.

now playing: wayv - love talk (english ver.)

warnings, sensitive content: sex with stranger, sex in public places, marking, cunnilingus (reader recieving), dry humping, abs riding, fingering (reader recieving), hair pulling, praise kink, pet names (chéri, bonne fille, baby), making out, nipple play, spanking, cursing, cheating.

word count: 2,8k

I can hear it callin'

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

Callin'

Something in the way you wanna talk

you're finally fed up with all this, you were finally fed up with all this, all the fights with your boyfriend were going too far, because you were fed up with his baseless jealousy, lack of confidence in yourself, in you and, most importantly, in your relationship.

after another fight you sat on the floor in tears, packing your things into your backpack, while he indifferently continued playing his console, saying something to his friends on the phone, but you didn't listen to all of this, because the only thing you wanted was for it all to finally end, and for you to finally become free from him and from your relationship that was so restricting you. throwing your backpack over your shoulder, clumsily wiping the tears from your face, rubbing your makeup with your palm, you ran out of the apartment, loudly slamming the door behind you, making it clear that you're not going to look back, you're not going to ask for forgiveness and hope to make things right, you've had enough.

sitting with your friend where you were staying until you found yourself an apartment, she listened attentively to your story about what happened, shaking her head in surprise, she knew that not everything was so good in your relationship, but not to this extent...

"fuck, I told you a hundred times that he's a complete asshole!" she exclaimed, sitting closer to you, hugging you weakly, realizing that you are now in a vulnerable state, and you incredibly need support. she stroked your hair, listening to your sobs, which broke her heart, because the last thing she wanted was to see her friend like this.

"listen, you urgently need to get distracted," she said, her words made you raise your head, looking at her in surprise, because what could distract you in such a situation? "my friends are having a party in paris and you have to come."

these words threw you off track, what paris? you just broke up with your boyfriend and problems piled up on you, not allowing you to raise your head, and then she suddenly offers you to go to another country for the sake of some party? you were about to refuse, but she put her finger on your mouth, as if showing that you should keep quiet.

"keep quiet! no refusals accepted, pack your things."

to say that going to another country without knowing the language is stupid is to say nothing, because you really didn't understand a word of french, unlike your friend, who kindly translated everything for you, so at first it didn't seem like a big problem.

you stood in front of the mirror, trying on dress after dress, hoping to choose the best one, after all, it wasn't for nothing that you traveled several thousand kilometers for some party. your friend silently watched you preen, having already been dressed for a long time, waiting for you with a displeased expression.

"come on, it's been almost half an hour, we're already late! put on something already and let's go." she said discontentedly, folding her arms across her chest, which made you giggle just from the sight of her, playfully rolling your eyes and putting your makeup in her purse. finally being ready you both left the apartment, walking along the night streets of paris, heading to some club that your friend had managed to buzz your ears about over the past few days.

you got there pretty quickly, passing face control at the entrance with the same ease, finally opening the door to the club, at the same moment hearing loud music that made you shudder slightly. seeing your confusion, your friend took you by the hand, leading you to the bar counter, where there were already several people standing, looking at you with interest.

"bonjour!" one of them exclaimed, waving at you with a bright smile, your friend smiled back, hugging everyone sitting at the bar while you stood shyly to the side, realizing this, she took your hand again, moving it closer to her so that you were not standing far away.

"rencontre-moi, c'est mon amie," - meet her, shes my friend, she said, to which her friends immediately smiled, greeting you in french, but not understanding a word, you only nodded respectfully, smiling back.

it was about about an hour passed, you were all drinking, despite the fact that you couldn’t join in the conversation, because you simply didn’t understand what they were talking about. finally, the girl sitting next to you noticed your discomfort, putting her hand on your shoulder.

"chérie, ce qui s'est passé?" - darling, what happened? she asked in a worried voice, but once again, not understanding anything, you simply nodded, but her hand on your shoulder made you feel a little better, finally laying your head on her shoulder.

Falling for a stranger

Good gracious

I might even fly out to Vegas

noticing this, jimin chuckled, saying nothing, just continuing to drink the wine from her glass, chatting with the other people sitting next to her. "she has such beautiful french," you thought, realizing that you barely heard the people around you, listening only to her well-delivered speech.

the more alcohol entered your body with her, the more confident and relaxed your touches became. first her hand "accidentally" slid from your shoulder to your waist, then you just as "accidentally" touched the skin of her neck with your lips, making her sigh heavily, her eyes immediately looked at you, squeezing your waist tighter, to which you only smirked contentedly.

when your friends went to the dance floor, you both realized it was time for action, so she grabbed your hand, leading you through the drunken crowd on the dance floor, leaving the club. you immediately felt a cool spring wind blowing on your face, but her hand in yours warmed you.

you walked to the parking lot and at that very moment you saw a black supra, making your jaw drop, clearly not expecting a girl like her to have a car like that. her hand opened the passenger door, pushing you inside, climbing in after you, finally ending up with you in the passenger seat.

you immediately felt warm hands on your hips, which sat you down on her lap, causing you to instinctively place your palms on her shoulders, squeezing lightly. she tightened her embrace, one hand sliding down to possessively grope your ass while the other tangled in your locks.

"j'ai attendu ce moment toute la nuit," - I've been waiting for this moment all night, she growled into your ear, making you break into goosebumps, with that words, she crashed her lips against yours in a brutal, claiming kiss, kiss that stole the breath from the your lungs, her tongue pushed past your lips, invading, conquering, pushing it into your mouth, making you moan lowly. she was already imagining all the ways she wanted to take you right here, right now, but she knew she had to be patient.

вhe could feel the your breath, hot and heavy with anticipation, washing over her sensitive skin. yu's hands slid down to grip your slim waist, feeling the heat of your body through the thin your dress, she slid her hands up under the fabric, caressing the smooth, toned skin of her back, as could feel the goosebumps rising on your flesh as she touched you.

pulling away from the kiss, your hands lifted her shirt, revealing her well-defined abs, making you hold your breath, biting your lower lip and raising your gaze to karina, silently asking for permission.

"faites ce que vous voulez, chéri," - do whatever you want, darling, she said nodding approvingly, giving you free rein, which made you smirk, lifting the bottom of your dress, seeing this, she helped you take it off over your head, throwing it on the driver's seat, because now you won't need clothes, your underwear flew after your dress, leaving you completely naked before her hungry gaze.

she swore quietly, feeling your palm slide along her abs, causing her to break out in goosebumps, at the same moment feeling contact with your hot, wet skin of your groin, forcing her to lean her head back against the seat, placing her hands on your hips. she tightened her grip, nails digging into your soft flesh as she guided your movements.

at the same time she slid one hand up your side, tracing the curve of your breast, before roughly palming the soft mound, thumb brushed over your hardened nipple, teasing the sensitive bud, her other hand slid down to grope your ass, fingers sinking into the plump cheek, giving you a soft smack, what made you squeal, placing your hands on her shoulders.

her fingers sank into the flesh of your ass, gripping you tightly as she guided your increasingly desperate movements, she rolled her hips up to meet yours, abs rippling beneath you, her defined muscles providing the perfect and needed friction against your sensitive folds, jimin could feel how your slick arousal coating her skin, your needy whimpers music to her ears, making her feel an unpleasant wetness between her own legs, but she knew that she had to take care of you first.

she could feel your body trembling, could see your chest heaving with each desperate breath, seing how you lose yourself in pleasure, using her body for your own needs, was intoxicating, making it even harder to bear. she leaned up, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, tongue delving into your mouth swallowing all of your moans as her hands slid around to grip your ass, spreading your cheeks apart as she ground your core harder against her abs.

"tu es belle comme ça" - you look so beautiful like this, she whispered close to your lips before leaning back against the seat, watching with a smirk as you managed to cope on your own. she could tell you were getting close, your body tensing and trembling with impending release, she shuddered as she felt your hips moving with increasing desperation, your whimpers growing louder and more needy.

she slid one hand around to your wetness, fingers teasing through your soaked folds, feeling the slick arousal coating her digits, she let out a soft moan from that feeling, smirking as she watches you finally shudder at the peak of your climax.

"c'est ma bonne fille," - thats my good girl, she said with a smile, combing a fallen strand of hair behind your ear, she leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, her tongue delved into your mouth, stroking along yours, she broke the kiss to trail her lips down your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh as she panted harshly against your skin, you felt her weave her fingers into your hair, forcing you to throw your head back, giving herself more space on your sensitive skin, which at that very moment was covered with red spots from her teeth.

at the same moment she switched places with you, turning to turn off the lights in the car, moving the passenger seat to give herself more room to fit between your legs. she trailed kisses down your calves, unfastening your shoes at the same time, throwing your legs over her shoulders. the sensation of that soft, wet muscle of her tongue sliding along your slick folds sent a jolt of electricity through your body, making you back arch off the seat, your hands instantly wove into her hair, lightly pulling at the roots, causing her to let out a low moan.

your juices flowed freely, coating her lips and chin, which she didn't mind at all, squeezing your hips tighter, encouraging the way you desperately pushed towards her tongue. the musky, intoxicating scent of your sweet arousal filled the car, mingling with the faint traces of her perfume. it was damn hot in the car, the windows were already fogged up, blocking your view of the people you saw in the parking lot, but right now you didn't care about them, and you didn't care if anyone heard you or not.

your other hand slid to palm her aching for attention breast, kneading the soft mound and pinching her nipple through the thin silk of your black bra, you could feel the stiff peak of you nipple straining against the fabric, begging for more stimulation that only yu could give you.

the idyll was interrupted by the sound of a phone call, fuck, that's the last thing you need right now, who thought of calling at the moment when such a beautiful girl is between your legs fucking you with her tongue in her car? through your hazy vision you saw your friend's name on the display which made you curse under your breath, biting your bottom lip as you wondered whether or not to answer.

and yet you pressed the button to accept the call, afraid that it might raise an alarm because you had disappeared from the club so suddenly.

"hey, where have you disappeared to, are you okay?" she said in a slightly drunk but still worried voice as loud music played in the background.

"i-im fine..." you said with a trembling voice, trying your best to hold back your whining, and jimin was even more turned on by your situation, which is why she didn't even plan to stop, approaching the matter more diligently, your clit throbbed, swollen and sensitive, as her clever tongue flicked and circled the sensitive bud. your head fell back against the headrest, her eyes squeezing shut as she lost herself in the exquisite pleasure, your chest heaved with each ragged breath.

"are you sure you're okay? your voice is shaking, you disappeared so suddenly... and jimin disappeared too, are you sure everything's okay?" she said, while you were holding back with all your might, breathing heavily into the phone, "everything's fine... jimin and i stepped away for a while, i felt bad and she's just... looking after me, we'll be there soon," you said, at the same moment with these words you dropped the call, throwing the phone aside, finally allowing a loud groan to escape your lips.

your thighs trembled, the muscles flexing as you struggled to keep them spread wide, which she certainly took care of, because her strong grip prevented you from bringing your legs together, your grip on her hair tightened, holding her in place as you ground her hips more insistently, desperately fucking her face, the wet, obscene sounds of jimin's slurping and suckling filled the car, mixing with your increasingly loud moans and cries of pleasure.

you could feel the heat of her breath on your skin, could smell the faint scent of her perfume mingling with the headier aroma of your own arousal. It was intoxicating, overwhelming. your climax building fast, the coil of heat in your core winding tighter and tighter with each pass of her wicked tongue, your thighs trembled, the muscles clenching as she teetered on the brink of ecstasy, you was so close, so fucking close, and she needed jimin, needed her to make her push her to the edge, to be that one.

your pussy clenched, the walls fluttering around her tongue, trying to draw it in deeper, you cried out, voice echoing in the enclosed space of the car, with a keening moan, you finally came undone, your body convulsing as her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, your eyes rolled back, head thrown back against the seat as your rode out the aftershocks of her climax, and she with her kitten licks continued to assault on your clit, prolonging your orgasm, overstimulating you.

finally rising, she pulled you into a kiss again, pulling your lower lip, not allowing you to recover from your previous orgasm, her thumb rubbed tight circles around your aching clit, the pleasure bordering on pain, at the same moment, two fingers sliding inside you, fingers plunging in and out of her clenching heat at a brutal pace, she curled her fingers just so, brushing against that spongey spot deep inside that made you see stars.

as she fucked you harder, faster, spurred on by the desperate sounds spilling from your lips. her thumb rubbed your clit hard as she plunged her fingers into that slick, gripping heat over and over, she could feel your release surging through you, the tension snapping as you threw your head back with a guttural moan.

"allez, donne-le moi, baby," - come on give it to me, baby, she growled, pushing deeper, the obscene sound of her fingers slamming into your wet heat filled the room, punctuated by your desperate moans, you could feel your climax building, your cunt starting to flutter and tighten around her digits, your chest heaved with each ragged breath, skin flushed and damp with exertion. she could feel your pussy starting to spasm, gripping her plunging fingers like a vice, she fucked you with short, sharp jabs as you grind your clit against her palm as you teetered on the brink, your pussy clamped down, rippling and gushing around her fingers as you came hard, drenching her hand and the seet beneath you.

pulling her fingers out of you, she climbed back onto the seat, sitting you on her lap and soothingly stroking your back, leaving a light kiss on your temple.

"chérie, c'est drôle, je n'ai même pas pu te demander ton nom." darling, that's funny, i didn't even get to ask your name.

Baby we two distant strangers

I know you don't speak my language

But I love the way she's talking to me.

[gpcwsl]

r x leah/alessia grew up together and have been best friends since. they act like a couple and everyone thinks they are but they’re both completely oblivious

Warnings: a kiss?

Leah Williamson x Reader

- Last ones to know -

MasterList

The late afternoon sun streamed through the park trees as Leah kicked the football toward you. The thud of her foot meeting the ball was as familiar to you as the sound of your own heartbeat. You darted forward, trying to intercept, but she was faster. Always had been.

“Too slow!” she taunted, her grin wide and mischievous.

You groaned, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “You know I let you win, right? I just don’t want to bruise your ego.”

Leah smirked, trapping the ball under her foot. “Sure you did.” She paused, looking around. The park was empty except for the two of you, just like it had been when you were kids. Back then, you’d spend hours here, turning patches of grass into stadiums in your imagination.

“Do you ever think about when we were kids?” Leah asked suddenly, her voice softer.

“All the time,” you admitted, walking up to stand beside her. “Especially how I always carried your team in our little tournaments.”

She bumped you with her shoulder. “Delusional.”

You laughed, but your chest warmed at the familiarity of it all. Leah had always been like this—sharp-tongued but gentle, competitive but protective. The kind of person who’d tease you mercilessly but also stand in front of you if anyone else dared to try.

You’d met Leah when you were seven years old, the new kid in the neighborhood. Your first encounter had been less than graceful: she’d accidentally hit you in the face with a football while practicing in the park.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” she’d asked, wide-eyed and panicked, crouching beside you.

You’d sniffled, holding your nose, but the sight of her distressed face had made you laugh. “You’ve got a terrible aim.”

She’d grinned then, the kind of smile that made you forget your stinging nose. “Wanna play?”

From that day on, you were inseparable. Whether it was playing football until the streetlights came on or sneaking into each other’s rooms to whisper about school crushes and big dreams, Leah became your safe place.

Now, years later, that bond had only grown stronger. You and Leah were adults with busy lives, but your friendship remained the one constant.

The first time someone mistook you for a couple, it had been funny. You’d both laughed it off, joking about how people couldn’t handle a “platonic dream team.” But as it happened more often, the jokes started to sting in ways neither of you could explain.

After one of Leah’s matches, you were standing by the pitch, waiting for her. She spotted you instantly, her face breaking into a grin. She jogged over, still in her kit, and pulled you into a sweaty hug.

“God, Leah!” you laughed, trying to squirm away. “You’re disgusting.”

“Stop complaining,” she said, squeezing you tighter. “You love it.”

“Do I?” you teased, but your heart fluttered in a way you chose to ignore.

One of her teammates walked by, smirking. “Leah’s better half strikes again,” she said, giving you a mock salute.

Leah rolled her eyes, but you caught the faint blush on her cheeks. “They’re just jealous,” she muttered as the teammate walked away.

“Jealous of what?” you asked, genuinely curious.

She shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “Nothing. Forget it.”

You didn’t press her, though you couldn’t shake the way your chest tightened at her words.

Leah’s family had always treated you like one of their own. So when her mum invited you to Sunday dinner, you didn’t hesitate.

The evening was filled with laughter and good-natured teasing, as it always was. You sat next to Leah at the table, your shoulders brushing every so often.

“So,” her mum said, setting down a dish. “When are you two finally going to admit it?”

You froze, a piece of roast halfway to your mouth. “Admit what?”

Leah groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Mum, not this again.”

Her mum just smiled knowingly. “Oh, come on. You’ve been in each other’s pockets since you were kids. It’s obvious to everyone except you two.”

You laughed nervously, glancing at Leah. “We’re just friends,” you said quickly.

Her mum raised an eyebrow. “If you say so.”

Leah didn’t say anything, but she was unusually quiet for the rest of the meal.

ILater that night, as you lay in bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about her mum’s words. Were you and Leah really so obvious? And if so… why didn’t you feel weird about it?

Leah, meanwhile, was having similar thoughts. She stared at her ceiling, replaying the day in her mind. It wasn’t the first time someone had assumed you were together, but this time it felt different.

“Why does it matter?” she whispered to herself, her chest tightening.

The week after Leah’s family dinner was like any other on the surface. You still met up for your usual Friday coffee run and sent each other memes at midnight, but there was a shift in the air. Something unspoken hovered between you, neither of you daring to address it.

It started when you mentioned a coworker.

“Jamie’s been helping me with this project,” you said casually, sipping your coffee. “They’re great. Really funny, too.”

Leah froze mid-bite of her croissant. “Jamie?” she asked, trying to sound uninterested.

You nodded. “Yeah. They’ve been a lifesaver. Stayed late with me last night to finish everything up.”

Leah felt a sharp, unfamiliar pang in her chest. “Sounds… nice,” she said, though her tone betrayed her.

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Fine.” She forced a smile, though her grip on her coffee cup tightened.

Later that evening, Leah texted you:

Leah: So… is this Jamie person just a coworker?

You: Yeah, why?

Leah: No reason. Just wondering.

But it wasn’t no reason. The thought of someone else being that close to you made her stomach twist.

A few days later, the tables turned.

Leah had mentioned in passing that her teammates were trying to set her up on a date. You’d laughed it off at first, but when you saw the texts popping up on her phone—“She’s cute, Leah! Just say yes!”—you felt an ache you couldn’t explain.

“You’re actually considering it?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

Leah shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, it’s just a date, right?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Right. Just a date.”

But as you walked home that evening, you couldn’t stop picturing her with someone else. Someone who wasn’t you.

The annual weekend getaway had always been a highlight of your friendship. This year, you rented a small cabin by the lake, just the two of you. It was supposed to be an escape from the noise of your lives, but instead, it became the backdrop for the emotional storm brewing between you.

The first night, you sat by the campfire, the crackling flames casting shadows across Leah’s face.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” you said, breaking the silence.

Leah shrugged, poking at the fire with a stick. “Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

She hesitated. “Do you ever feel like… people see us differently than we see ourselves?”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Like… maybe they see something we don’t.”

Your chest tightened. “Are you talking about what your mum said?”

Leah nodded, her gaze fixed on the fire. “Yeah. I mean, why do people keep saying it? Are we… giving them a reason to think that?”

You laughed nervously. “We’re just close. People don’t get it.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Maybe.”

The conversation lingered in the air, unresolved.

The next day, you went out for a hike. The trail was quiet, the only sounds the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional birdcall.

As you reached the summit, Leah stopped and turned to you.

“Why did you ask if I was considering that date?” she asked suddenly.

You blinked, caught off guard. “I don’t know. Just curious.”

She stepped closer, her eyes searching yours. “Was that all it was?”

“Why are you asking me this?” you whispered, your heart pounding.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about it,” she admitted. “Every time someone flirts with you or sets me up, I feel… I don’t know. Weird. Like it’s wrong.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing. “Leah…”

“I think…” She hesitated, then shook her head. “Forget it.”

But you couldn’t forget it. Her words stayed with you, echoing in your mind long after the hike was over.

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you sat on the cabin porch, staring at the lake. Leah joined you, sitting so close your knees touched.

“I need to say something,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

You turned to her, your breath catching at the vulnerability in her eyes.

“I’ve been trying to ignore it,” she began, “but I can’t anymore. I think… I’ve always felt something more for you. I just didn’t realize what it was until now.”

Your heart stopped. “Leah, are you saying…?”

“I love you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not just as a friend. Not just because we’ve known each other forever. I love you in every way.”

Tears stung your eyes as her words sunk in. “Leah, I…” You trailed off, overwhelmed.

“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know.”

But you couldn’t let her think it wasn’t mutual. Reaching out, you took her hand in yours. “I love you too,” you admitted. “I think I always have. I was just too scared to see it.”

Relief and joy flooded her face as she pulled you into her arms.

The weekend at the cabin came to an end too quickly, and you found yourself driving back home, the weight of the real world creeping back in. But this time, it felt different.

Leah was in the passenger seat, her hand resting on the center console, palm up. Without thinking, you slipped your fingers into hers. She glanced over at you, her smile soft and full of unspoken promises.

“Do you think people will notice?” you asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Leah raised an eyebrow. “Notice what?”

“That we’re… different now,” you said, your voice quieter.

Leah’s thumb traced slow circles on the back of your hand. “They’ve always thought we were a couple. Now they’ll just be right.”

You laughed, her words easing your nerves. “Fair point.”

Her tone turned more serious. “We don’t have to tell anyone right away if you’re not ready. This is ours, first and foremost.”

You glanced at her, warmth flooding your chest. “No, I want them to know. I want the world to know.”

Leah’s smile widened, her cheeks tinged pink. “Good. Because I was going to have a hard time not kissing you in public.”

It didn’t take long for Leah’s teammates to figure it out. You showed up at her next match, as you always did, but this time something was different.

When Leah spotted you in the stands, she jogged over after the final whistle and pulled you into a hug—nothing unusual. But then she pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before stepping back, her grin sheepish but unashamed.

You felt your face heat as her teammates began whooping and cheering from the sidelines.

“Finally!” one of them shouted, throwing her arms in the air. “I was starting to think you two would never figure it out!”

Leah rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “You lot are ridiculous.”

“But we’re right,” another teammate said, grinning at you. “Welcome to the family, officially.”

When you showed up at Leah’s family home for dinner a week later, her mum took one look at you and grinned.

“So, it’s finally happened,” she said, hands on her hips.

Leah groaned, her face in her hands. “Mum, can we not make this a thing?”

Her mum just laughed, pulling you both into a hug. “Oh, it’s a thing, sweetheart. I’ve been rooting for this since you were kids.”

Leah’s cheeks turned red, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess we were the last ones to know, huh?”

Her mum winked at you. “Better late than never.”

A few weeks later, Leah insisted on taking you out for a proper date. She picked a cozy Italian restaurant, tucked away from the usual crowds.

You sat across from her, your hands intertwined on the table, the candlelight casting soft shadows across her face.

“You’re staring,” she teased, though her own gaze hadn’t left yours.

“Can you blame me?” you shot back, feeling bold.

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “I still can’t believe this is real,” she admitted. “That you’re mine.”

“I’ve always been yours,” you said softly.

Her eyes softened, and she squeezed your hand. “And I’ve always been yours.”

As the night went on, you couldn’t help but notice how relaxed she was, her guard completely down in a way you’d only ever seen when it was just the two of you. It felt right—like you’d both finally found the piece of your lives that had been missing.

Months passed, and your relationship only grew stronger. The transition from best friends to partners wasn’t always easy—there were moments of doubt, of learning how to navigate the new dynamic—but you faced it all together.

One quiet evening, you sat on the couch in Leah’s flat, her head resting on your shoulder.

“Do you ever think about what’s next?” she asked suddenly.

You turned to look at her. “What do you mean?”

“Us,” she said, her voice soft. “I mean, we’ve known each other forever, but now… it feels like we’re starting all over again. In a good way.”

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Whatever’s next, we’ll figure it out together. We always do.”

She grinned, leaning up to kiss you. “I like the sound of that.”

[arbitrarykiwi]

Third Times a Charm: Oral Fixation 2/3

Nam-Gyu (Player 124) x AFAB reader smut series

Summary: you ran into him three separate times. First was at a party, second time was at a club. And like his favorite drugs, he was addicted. The third time? Well he wasn’t going to let you get away so easy. Third times a charm and he was going to get his fix. ((Non-squid games au))

Warnings: Smut (18+), LONG (y'all.. I went over board: 6.4k words), id say this is significantly more debauched than the first chapter, alcohol use, drug use, substance mixing, stalker! Nam-Gyu themes (he finds your info online), porn with plot (long intro, there is a divider added for convenience if you wish to skip to the fuckin') , oral (m receiving), choking, dirty talk, name calling ((this chap. is significantly more gendered than the first one)) (pretty girl, good girl, whore and slut used once), face fucking, sugar daddy! Nam-Gyu themes, spitting, cum play, breath play, he’s nasty- got a filthy mouth on him, brief mention of death threats (he threatens somebody for interrupting y'all), proof read but I am dyslexic, there's prolly more- read at your own risk

Previous chapter: Taste Test 1/3

Next chapter: Bodytalk 3/3

AN: gonnna be so real yall, music inspo for this fic is São Paulo ft. Anitta by The Weekend…if you wanna read it with the fic be my guest 😋 (best time to start it is when yall meet again in da club)

The second time you ran into him was at a club.

It has been about two weeks since your interaction with him. Nam-Gyu. To say that he was all you thought about would be putting it lightly. The thought, the feel, the scent of him, was all you could think about.

Figuring with just a name to go off of and the drugged out crowd you often hung around, your luck of finding him was slim to none. You tried to search him up, nothing. All searches took you to was links about a ‘Club Pentagon’.

You tried to go out with some men, often finding yourself repulsed anytime they put your hands on you. Pushing them away and calling a cab to just go back home and get yourself off. None of those guys seemed worth your time- you’d just be thinking about him anyway.

His hands felt better. His lips felt better. He felt better.

You found yourself in your room, with a half smoked blunt hanging between your fingers as you scrolled through social media aimlessly. While scrolling you watched as a notification popped up at the top of your screen, your phone resonating a ‘ping’- a text from your friend asking you to go out to, none other than, Club Pentagon. You clicked the notification with a speed you didn’t know you had.

A reply is sent quick, agreeing to meet her at the club in a few hours. You stood up off your bed, taking a drag of the blunt you rolled- getting ready or not, you can’t waste it!

In the span of a couple hours you got ready, dolling yourself up in the best outfit you could think of. One of your favorite dresses, the one that was just a little too short but fit oh so perfect. You hope by some grace of the universe- he’s there. And with the chance that he may be there…you wanted to take a little extra time with your makeup.

After finishing off your blunt, taking more than a couple shots, and a excecuting perfect face of makeup- you’re calling a taxi with a nice buzz and making your way to Club Pentagon.

The night is cool when you step out the taxi. You pay and thank the cab driver, turning to find your friends in the long line of people. It doesn’t take long, they find you. They yell your name from the crowd, excitedly pulling you into the line. “God damn!! You look good!” One of your friends cheers, you laugh and give a little twirl. The group you find yourself in catches up, chatting, while walking slowly with the line of people waiting in queue for the club.

Soon you make it to the entrance, a large bouncer stands near a velvet rope that block the front door of the club. The large neon sign sporting the words ‘Club Pentagon’ flash a vibrant pint that illuminated the area outside the club.

Your group begins filling into a small cluster behind the velvet rope, waiting by the entrance for the rest of the group before heading into the club. Your friend in front of you passed the bouncer, adjusting her pink wristband sporting ‘21+’. It was the usual band bars around here used to signify the person wearing it was of age to drink.

You hand your ID to the bouncer patiently waiting to be let into the club. The bouncer looks to you then to your ID, he seems to re-read it then looks back up to you. “Wait here.” He tells you, stepping away. You look to your friend with a quirked eyebrow, wondering what the hold up is.

Your friend laughs, cupping her hands around her mouth and calling out to the bouncer. “She’s of age officer I swear!!” You reach over to swat her arm to get her to stop. “Bitch c’mon! For one, he’s not an officer. Two, that’s literally what someone with a fake ID would say.” You laugh, already tipsy from the pregame.

The bouncer returns with a chuckle at your friend’s antics. “Not worried ‘bout that girls.” He says to you and your friend with a jovial laugh. “Your name was familiar, saw it on the VIP list.” The bouncer says, to only you this time, placing a lime green wristband on your wrist, on it the acronym ‘VIP’ is printed around the entirety of the paper bracelet.

“Huh?” You say incredulously, you haven’t even been to this club before and you sure wouldn’t pay for a VIP band yourself. You look to your friend group, wondering if they had something to do with it. Their faces mimicked yours, confused, so they obviously had nothing to do with this.

“This must be a mistake- I didn’t pay for this.” You say not wanting to get overcharged. “No mistake Ma’am. One of our club promoters put you on the list personally.” He says opening the red suede rope to let you into the building.

You’re confused, you don’t know any club promoters. But you nod, in thanks to the bouncer as you join your friends. You are still wildly perplexed but not complaining- it’s a free all you can drink ticket! Your friends ‘ooo’ and ‘ahhh’ at you as you walk in with them.

“Which club promoter’s dick did ya suck to get that~” Your friend teases leaning into you, you laugh and shake your head. “Genuinely…no one’s. I have never been here before….the covers always been too high.” You say, your eyes scanning the grand entrance of the club- chandeliers covered the ceilings, various colored lasers reflecting off of the diamonds and dispersing into colored rays that flood the floor.

“Ohhh??? A secret admirer??!!” Your friends giggle as you make your way to the bar. You laugh her off, shaking your leaning on the bar. “For real I can’t imagine who would put me on the list…” You shrug as you all order your first round of drinks.

In your head you’re trying to find any possible reasoning. It’s couldn’t be him, could it?

Anytime you looked up his name, and you typed out those six letters more times than you could count over the weeks, he never came up….but this club that you find yourself at - Club Pentagon- did. Was he a club promoter here? Was he the club promoter that put you on the expensive VIP list?! Even if he was…you didn’t give him your name the last time you saw him. You were pulled away from him before you could even thank him for the mindblowing orgasm he gave you, let alone give him your name.

Your eyes darted around the place, examining the club that you never bothered to come to. Sure the cover was expensive but as you see the extravagant decoration, multiple stages lit up with flashing, multi-colored panels, and intricate carved marble columns throughout the place- the price seemed worth it.

You make good use of the VIP wristband, ordering rounds of shots that were covered by the lime green piece of paper that’s on your wrist. But you still can’t stop thinking of who would have put you on the list.

With the free VIP bracelet came an exclusive area within the club, a small lounge area that was one of many within the establishment. Each VIP with a bracelet and their group got one.

So there you found yourself, getting ready to head to the dance floor after spending some time on the plush leather couch of the sectioned off area.

You can’t count how many shots you’ve taken at the VIP table but you were feeling great. Your friends excitedly stood up, hearing one of their favorite songs come on. You laughed, standing with them to begin to head to the dance floor.

Your friends practically ran to the dance floor, leaving you there laughing at just how fast they made it- drunk and in heels nonetheless. Just when you’re about to leave your table you hear someone clear their throat.

You turn immediately to the person, your eyes widening. “Nam-gyu!” You say with a smile, walking over to him. He’s dressed to the nines, a black suit, a red undershirt that’s unbuttoned revealing his collarbones. He’s leaning against one of the columns that had intricate carvings on it.

He smiles, taking a drag from a blunt that he had. “Well, seems like you finally took advantage of your VIP privileges I gave you.” He says with a wicked grin. Under the flashing lights he looks like a snake ready to strike, it’s alluring in ways you can’t even put into words.

You gravitate towards him, your eyebrows raising as you realize he was the one to give you this VIP pass. “You’re the mysterious club promotor who gave me the VIP?” You question as you walk to him. You come close to him, standing in front of him- looking up at him.

He nods, looking you over like he’s a predator ready to catch his prey. His hand reaches out and dances along your arm in a light motion. You watch as his eyes take all of you in, his teeth catch the corner of his bottom lip. His chest heaves as he takes in a deep breath. You don’t know it but all he can think of is the way your cunt felt around his fingers and the way your cum tasted on his tongue. “Put your name on the list personally.” He responds.

“How’d you-“ You begin to say. He cuts you off, pulling you closer into him by the small of your back. “Find your name?” He says, almost mocking the way you’re sure you would have asked it. It’s a demeaning, taunting tone that does nothing to help the growing warmth in your lower stomach. You nod in response, swallowing thickly as his hand runs down the curve of your ass to grip at flesh.

He laughs, guiding you into the rhythm of the music. The hand that wasn’t gripping your ass held a lit blunt. He brought it up to his mouth and took a long drag. As he does, he doesn’t look away from you. His dark eyes are lit up in an orange hue as the cherry of the blunt rages when he draws in a hit. He drops his hand to his side again.

Smoke rolls out of his mouth in smooth streams as he looks down at you and grins. “Sweetheart, s’not that hard….” He drawls on, leaning down closer to you. A devious smirk spreads across his lips. “I didn’t just get your name, I found your phone number and address too.” He rasps, pulling back after his words to look at you.

He has a mischievous, almost wicked glint in his eyes that has you spinning. You should be freaked out, fighting against him for being some sort of crazed stalker- but you don’t. You keep grinding against him, your hands finding purchase around his neck.

Your eyes scan his, wide and trying to figure out what to do. ‘Cute’ he thinks. It was like your common sense was fighting your desire for him, and it was a battle he loved to watch. “You knew where I lived and had my number…why didn’t you-“

He cuts you off with a squeeze of your ass, once again, his ringed fingers gripping into the flesh as if you’d run away. He brings his hand up in between you two, holding the blunt so that it faces you. You can taste the wrap on your lips.

You look up at him through your lashes in a way that makes him want to forget pleasantries and fuck you here and now. But he restrains himself- nodding his head towards the blunt, his eyes never leaving yours.

When your lips wrap around the blunt and suck in the smoke, you can hear him hiss. He speaks through gritted teeth. “There you go….” He rasps. “Good fuckin’ girl.” He says, it’s a tone that makes you melt, you can hear the hunger in his voice, speaking through gritted teeth as if he was fighting himself from ruining you on the spot.

When you release the blunt and let the smoke billow out of your lips he speaks again, “You’re right,” he says, finally beginning to answer your question, grinning down at you. “I could have texted or showed up to your apartment…” He says as he spins you around against him, pressing your back into his toned chest.

“But I’m not some stalker..” He hums into your ear, hand hands all over you. “..so I just put you, my pretty little thing, on the VIP list. Hoping that you and your group of friends would show up here.” He hums in a low timbre that sends goosebumps up your skin.

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you look back over your shoulder to at him.

“How could you have been so sure I would have came here?” You say your hand reaching back around him to entangle your fingers in his hair. You find yourself inhaling his cologne, even with significantly less drugs in your system than when you first met him- the scent is just as intoxicating.

“I wasn’t sure. In all honesty if I had to wait any longer I would have showed up on your door step.” He says, the tone in his voice tells you he’s not lying.

And it just makes you hotter.

“But there’s no need to think about that..you’re here now.” He breathes into your ear, his free hand that wasn’t holding the blunt, moving inwards from your waist, traveling down your stomach to grip at the inside of your thighs.

Wherever his hands go, they leave a trail of white hot fire, the only solace is the small cool sensation from the metal rings adorning his fingers. You arch into him, a small gasp coming out of your mouth at his fingers digging into your thighs, just centimeters away from where you needed them most.

“I was thinking about you…” You squeak out in a weak attempt to respond to him. “Tried to look you up.” You say, your breath hitching, breaking up your words into pathetic syllables as you feel him drag your ass against his growing hard on.

Maybe it was the way you were more coherent, less drugs in your system this time meeting him- or maybe it was the thin fabric of your dress leaving nothing to the imagination as he pressed against you- or maybe it was the way his fingers left you a shaking mess during your last meeting so you couldn’t pay attention - but you swore you could feel his erection against your back better than the last time you had an encounter with him.

And he was thick.

He laughs, the vibration tickling at the skin of your neck. “I’m not one to run around with the best crowd, sweetheart. Don’t need people findin’ me so easy.”

He puts the blunt out in a swift motion on an ashtray nearby. His one hand remains on your hip, the one now free from the blunt runs up your back.

He pushes, causing you to bend over in front of him. It’s raunchy, it’s debauched but you let it happen. His hand continues its path up your back to grip the hair at the base of your neck. The way your hips move in tandem is sinful. Your dress has long since bunched up above your ass, allowing his cock that strains against his pants to rub against your clothed cunt in the most delicious way possible.

You’re bent over in front of him, one of his hands tangled in your hair while the other continues the rhythmic sway of your ass against his erection.

“But I had no worry, I’d knew you’d find me eventually…huh, pretty girl?” He has with a scoff in his voice. “Like you said, been thinking about me….” He growls, his hand that’s in your hair pulls you back against him in a rough movement. You can feel the way his clothed cock is spreading your pussy, allowing the tent in his pants grind up against your clit.

A whine is pulled out of your throat as you press yourself back against him even more. Your head nodding in reply to his words. A low groan resides him his throat has he throws his head back, basking in the feeling of how warm his dick feels pressed against your clothed pussy. The slow grind of your body against his is in time with the music. The loud thrum of the bass only serving to make every moment of this even better.

He pulls you back up by your hair, the arm on your hip wrapping around your torso and caging you into him. “Y’know…I played your little game last time, fair and square. I’d say I impressed you at that little party, wouldn’t you?” He says into your ear as he shifts his hips upwards, deliberately dragging his clothed cock up into you, the only thing keeping him from sinking into your velvety walls was your underwear and his pants.

You let out a choked gasp, feeling yourself clench around nothing. It was embarrassing, yet again, how quick he could get you to come undone. Your lip catches on your bottom lip as you try to grind down into his motions.

His hand releases from your hair and comes up to grip your jaw. “Answer me. Use your words.” He says, his breath ticking your ear. The low growl of his voice is smooth but devilish, a warning. You can feel the way his chest heaves with heavy breaths against your back. A sing that you had just as much of an effect on him that he had on you.

“Y-you did. You impressed me.” You say desperately your words slurred by his hand that grips your jaw. His grip loosens, his head dropping to your neck. His lips dance along your pulse point, tongue leaving a warm, wet trail along the column of your throat to under your ear.

“So then you should agree that I should get a nice little reward, for being so gracious, even after you cheated at your own little game?” He says, his lips tickling your ear. You nod frantically, reaching behind you to palm his erection over his slacks to prove a point of how desperately you needed him.

He growls into your ear, spinning you around to face him before smashing his lips on yours. You whine against him, reciprocating the kiss with equal desperation.

You don’t even realize when he leads you down a hall in a feverish mess of kissing. Your back is pressed against a closed door before he hastily fumbles with the knob.

You both stumble into office in the back of the Club Pentagon- being one of its top promoters had its perks of a private office and Nam-Gyu was going to use it.

It’s a fast paced mess of tongue and teeth. You find yourself turned pressed up against the door, closing it with a soft thud. His hands remove themselves from your waist, coming up to cradle your face, his thumbs rest on your cheeks while his pinky’s are nestled right under your ears. He pulls you to him, as is he’s trying to merge you into him.

His tongue explores your mouth in a skilled way that has your mind melting. You whine against him as he bites your bottom lip. Your hands work in clumsy, jittery movements to unbuckle his belt. He chuckles against you, finding your feeble attempt to rid him of his pants endearing.

He breaks this kiss, his forehead pressed to yours as his hands trail up your sides to your chest, stopping to grope at your breasts. “Eager are we?” He chuckles against your lips.

You kiss him again, the taste of his lips addictive. Pulling away to pout, looking up at him as your hands dance along the buckle of his belt. “Yes. And so what if I am?”

He grins, laughing at your words, his hands that massage your breasts slow their ministrations. His thumbs being to work against your nipples under your shirt. He brushes his thumbs over them in feather light touches, relishing in the feeling of your nipples beginning to harden under his touch. When your breath catches in your chest and you arch into him, he scoffs. “Pretty and sensitive…I’m going to have fun with you.” He says in a degrading tone, enjoying the small hint of an attitude you had being subbed out so quickly by him playing with your nipples.

He kisses you again fervently, hands removing themselves from under your bra to push you backwards by your hips. Your knees buckle when you hit a piece of furniture.

You fall to a sitting position onto a small couch in the room, whining when your lips part from his. He comes close to you, standing between your legs and looking down at you.

His eyes are dark. His hair was tousled, some strands still pushed back with whatever product he used to style it while others fall over his face. He smiles down at you, his hands running over your shoulders, along the sides of your neck to cradle your head.

His hands move up into your hair, tangling into the strands and cranking your neck back to look up at him. He moves even closer. Your chin is touching his lower stomach, forcing you to hold his gaze as he grinds his erection that is painfully hard against in his pants against your neck.

He looks down at you as if you’re a goddess in a renaissance painting. “Aren’t you just a sight…” he muses. His hands leg go of your hair, his warning gaze is enough to keep you in place. One of his hands comes up, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip.

You do it almost instinctively, wrapping your lips around his thumb. Eyes never leaving his as your tongue swirls around the pad of his finger.

His eyebrows raise, the breath he sucks in has your pussy clenching around nothing. “Oh…” He drawls on in a low amused hum. His eyes don’t leave your lips, it’s like he’s transfixed on where his thumb disappears into your warm mouth. “You’re fucking dangerous…” He muses in a low rumble. You can feel the way he grinds his erection into you throat as his thumb massages your tongue.

“C’mon then, I need to be inside your fucking mouth.” He growls, removing his finger from your mouth and quickly getting rid of pants and boxers. He doesn’t even have the patience to rid himself of his clothes, simply pushing them down to his knees.

His cock falls free from its confines and lands heavily in front of you, the tip smacking against your lips with a hearty sound.

Taken aback, you grip the base of his dick with one of your hands pulling your head back to look at it. It’s thick, long, the tip an angry red. The dark hairs at the base trail up his stomach in the most tantalizing line.

He hisses at the contact, you can feel it twitch in your hand. “Please, sweetheart…I’m dying…” He says, an upward cadence to his voice but his words are muffled. You look up from his cock, confused and when your eyes trail up his toned stomach to his face, your mouth is dry.

It’s a beautiful view. He has his red dress shirt is pulled up and out of the way by his teeth. His hair is disheveled, falling around his face and framing it in small shadows. His eyebrows are upturned, watching you- more specifically your mouth in a frenzied look, pleading for you to continue. His sleeves are rolled up revealing tattoos on his forearms that decorate his skin in intricate lines of black and grey.

How could you say no to him?!

Your mouth parts in a slow movement, your tongue lolling out of your mouth. You place his cock on your tongue, smacking the angry tip against your tongue a couple times. Each time, you see his stomach clench as the warm wet feeling of your tongue met his dick.

He watches as you lick him from base to tip, stoping to wrap your plush lips on his the tip of cock. It’s a tease for the feeling of heaven that is your mouth because soon you release him, running your tongue along the underside of dick. The sounds he’s making are sinful, low moans and groans of your name that has your thighs pressing together to ease the ache in your cunt.

He groans, taking his shirt out of his mouth and holing it in one of his hands. His other one makes its way to the back of your head, fisting your hair and yanking your head back.

“Enough of this teasing, sweet thing. You’re still the same slut that let me finger her on the dance floor weeks ago…so you’re gonna act like it, yeah?” He says looking down at you as he begins to jerk his cock over your face.

You smile, it’s a sight that has him gripping his dick tighter. Your mouth drops open, you nod. “That’s right…” he coos, shaking your head by the grip in your hair. “Stick your tongue out.” He demands, punctuating his words by tightening his grip on your hair.

You obey, lolling your tongue out, never breaking eye contact. He leans over you, making you watch as he sucks and then spits into your mouth. You moan out when you feel the taste of his saliva hit your tongue, your eyes rolling to the back of your head in ecstasy. “Swallow.” He demands again. “And fucking look at me when you do it.” He says through gritted teeth.

You open your eyes again, watching him continue to pump his thick cock over your face. You obey, closing your mouth and swallowing his saliva. Your gaze locked to his and its filthy. He stands over you, one hand on the back of your head, the other twisting around his length as he watches you swallow.

“Ohhh….” He coos, his eyebrows knitted together in an upturned expression as he watches you. “That’s it….” He says, taking a step closer to rub the tip of his dick over your plush lips. He grins down at you, his dark eyes trained on you as you stick your tongue back out, running it on the underside of his thick length.

“I don’t even have to ask? Y’know just what to do, huh? How fucking filthy you are…” He mocks in a condescending tone. His hips thrust forward just the tiniest bit, pushing the angry tip of his cock between your lips before pulling out. His eyes trained on the way your lips move around the ridge of his cock-head.

He hisses out a shuddering breath, biting his lip before speaking again, this time his tone drastically different- it’s softer. “You look so pretty like this..” He says in a soft hum, his hand brushing your hair back out of your face in a strangely comforting manner.

He surges his hips forward more, sinking his cock into your mouth. The sound he lets out is sinful. You look up, his head is thrown back, his hand clenching his shirt in a white-knuckled grip. “O-oh fuck…” He hisses.

You begin to bob your head in a steady rhythm, your tongue beginning to memorize every vein along his length. He isn’t quiet, he’s obscene. Every time you move your head up and down his cock he’s chanting praises followed by moans that fuel the wetness that pools in your underwear. You’re sure by this point it’s staining the fabric of the couch you sit on.

His head saga to the side, his eyes back on you. “You can do b-better than that. I know you can.” He says, panting between word, a degrading tone lacing his voice.

He moans as he feels you begin to work harder, your hand coming up to stroke at the length that you didn’t have in your mouth. His hand that’s at the back of your head moves to the side, the hand that’s holds his shirt drops the fabric to mirror his other hand.

Both hands on either side of your skull, he smirks down at you, panting. “You can take it.” He says with a chuckle, it wasn’t a suggestion.

You moan around him at his words, only spurring him on to press you down his length. As your lips inch down his cock he groans, indulging him self in the warm, wet, solace that was your mouth.

He keeps his eyes trained on you, watching as spit begins to spill at the corners of your mouth, creating a ring around his cock every time he pulled your head back and forth. He was simply addicted.

“This….” He’s cut off as you straighten your tongue out, allowing him to begin to sink in the tightness of your throat. “O-oh f-fuck….” He shudders out through clenched teeth, the words aggressive. “T-this is so much better than any fucking drug I’ve done.” He huffs out.

His hands continue to press down. His head falling backwards once more as he uses your mouth. When the head of his cock finally slips past the tight ring of your throat he lets out a moan that is so wicked it has you echoing him. You let out a sound that is between a gag and a moan, it’s debauched. Porn worthy.

His head snaps back forward watching you with a dark look. When he sees that you don’t pull away, and instead look up at him- taking more of him in your throat without the push of his hands- he laughs. It’s a soft sound, one of awe, shock and pride.

“Takin’ me so well…so fuckin’ well.” He says, punctuating his words by returning his hands to the back of your head forcing you all the way down. With your nose pressed into the coarse hairs of his pubic bone your eyes roll back into your skull as you gag and choke around him.

One of the hands on your head drops to your throat, cradling it- feeling where his cock was nestled. Your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs, the restriction of air leaving your pussy practically weeping onto the couch.

He pulls back, his cock pulling out of your throat in a messy string of saliva and his pre-cum. You gasp and cough, looking up at him with watery eyes. “Y-you’re so big…” you choke out in a raspy whine. He looks down at you with a pout, rubbing his hand over your lips, smearing your spit on your face.

“I know, pretty. But you can take it, yeah?” He says, his hand stopping at your cheek, his thumb rubbing a comforting circle. “Mhm.” You say with a nod leaning into his hand.

He smiles down at you, his hands returning to their position to cradle your head. “Gonna let me cum down your throat like my good whore, huh?” He says, the words down right depraved but he has such a soft and sweet tone it has your brain spinning.

You nod, mouth opening again, tongue stuck out- waiting so patiently for him.

The rapid pace is set instantly. His cock enters your mouth, instantly sliding to the back of your mouth. His cock bullies its way down your throat relentlessly. You swear your throat is going to be permanently molded to the shape of his dick. Your tongue flattens more, licking against his balls every time he sinks you to the base of his cock.

“F-fuck, your fucking throat is so tight.” He almost chokes out, his hands working your face against his cock at a meteoric speed. Any time he felt you gag, it just made him fuck your face harder- and you loved it.

He looks down at you, his head lolled to the size, his gaze hazy. “I needa cum in y-your throat so bad..” he says in almost a pleading whine. The desperate hitch to his voice has your eyebrows turning up and eyes rolling back. You moan and gag around him, an attempt to spur him on.

“S’gonna feel so good, balls deep in your fucking throat.” He rambles, his breathing becoming heavier and his thrusts sloppier. “And you’re gonna swallow it all.” He mumbles, more to himself than you but you moan in agreement. A few more thrusts is all he needed before he’s nearing his limit

“I’m going to fucking c-cum…” he chokes out, in a growl, his hands twisting into your hair, forcing your all the way down his cock- holding you at the base, tongue lapping desperately at his balls. He hunches over you, pressing you deeper into him in ways you didn’t think was possible.

You feel it in an instant, the warm spurts of cum that flow out of him, his hips thrusting in shallow movements as he milks his cock in your throat. Despite gagging and choking around him, you swallow, greedily, trying your best not to waste any last drop.

He pulls you off of him, a filthy web of your saliva and his cum connecting his dick to your lips. You choke and gasp, catching your breath. When you find it, you look to him. He’s smiling wide.

“Damn….” He says, his hand that’s not on your head swipes between you two, collecting some of the fluids that string the two of you together. “Messy lil thing aren’t ya?” He hums, bringing his fingers up to his lips to suck the mixture of your saliva and his cum off his fingers.

You giggle, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Not my fault you cum so much.” You tease back. He laughs again hands coming to hold your face, “Uh actually yeah it is…you I think you sucked the soul outta me…” he says, leaning down to kiss you.

It’s messy, but he takes his time, his lips moving in a soft rhythm against yours- almost as if it’s a thanks for the orgasm you gave him.

He pulls back, his hands working to readjust your dress and smooth out your hair. His thumb even swipes under your eyes- a feeble attempt to fix your makeup- but an attempt nonetheless.

You jump when you hear a loud knock on the door, you gasp- knocking the door was unlocked. Nam-Gyu moves himself completely in front of you- shielding you from the door if whoever was knocking happened to barge in. “S’okay.” He soothes, looking back to you. “Locked or not these fucking dumbasses know not to enter in here without me telling them to.” He says with a grin. You giggle, your fingernails still lightly raking against his thighs.

“Hey!” Someone shouts, then another round of knocks. “We got an issue that requires your help out here, boss.” The individual calls. Nam-Gyu groans. “Can it fucking wait?” He calls over his shoulder, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No can do! People out back are trying to lowball us for this batch.” The man calls back. Nam-Gyu looks to the door then back to you. “‘m sorry, princess. Gonna have to take a rain check…” He says, a genuine look of upset in his eyes as he realizes he’s going to have to depart from you.

He reaches down to pull you to stand, kissing you once more. This time it’s slow and deliberate, like he’s trying to memorize the feeling of your lips. You sigh into the kiss, the feeling of his lips on yours makes your body light up in ways you’ve never felt.

He pulls away, working to pull up his pants and boxers, tucking his semi-hard cock into his pants. You look at his cock, pouting, pressing your thighs together. He looks up to you, then down to your thighs. “‘M sorry sweetness, next time it’s all about you. Consider it the last of your payback for leaving me hanging the first time we met.” He says, taking a step back towards you, his hand coming to the back of your neck, pulling you to him and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You coming boss??” The voice calls impatiently from behind the door. “For fucks sake!! Yes. Give me a damn minute.” He yells over his shoulder.

“Wait I don’t have your number. I’m not going to find you again” You say, eyebrows knitted in a worried expression- you lost him once and with dick this good- you couldn’t lose him again.

He finishes up buckling his belt, looking to the wall and into the cracked and dirty mirror that hung there to straighten up his hair. Another loud knock comes at the door. “I’ll be there in a fucking second!” He seethes at the door. “Knock again and I’ll blow your fucking brains out.” He yells in an enraged voice. His face twisted in an annoyed and enraged scowl- a genuine hatred in his eyes that has you scared. The way he was saying it showed that if another knock came, there would be someone’s blood painting the wall.

However, when he turns around to you his face immediately softens. He hurries over to you, his hands cupping your face and shaking his head. “Not gonna have to worry about that, sweet thing.” He coos, brushing your hair, helping to smooth out the evidence of how much he just wrecked you. “I have your number, remember. Promise I’ll text you.” He says with a grin, kissing you once more.

He pulls away, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wad of cash. He hands you a couple 20’s. “You get home safe. Cabs on me.” He says looking at the bills in your hand before shrugging, placing even more 20’s down into the pile- way more than what you needed for cab fair. “And tomorrow get yourself a gift- on me as well.” He says winking.

Before you can respond he’s walking over to the door of his office and whipping the door open, yelling at the person who was knocking for not having any patience. He pushes the individual who was knocking back from the door way immediately so they wouldn’t see you in your less than appropriate form.

You stand there, heart thudding in your chest as you can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips. You open your phone to many missed messages and calls from your friends. Gathering your things, you call them as you walk out to hail a cab- ready to relay all the details about who exactly gave you the VIP wristband.

Tag List: @heyitsayjayy , @chxrrybomb22 , @ziallgff , @ametheslime , @hornyfordaryldixon (( let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list for the last part <3 ))

[lostintransist]

Can't Catch Me | A König One-Shot

König runs into a spot of trouble with the mob. But wouldn't you know it, his favorite barista is heading home and is willing to play along.

For @backseatsoldier *hugs, kisses, and hopefully König spends the night*

CW: 18+ Minors do not interact, kissing, ass smacking, suggestive themes

You stretched your neck as you walked the final stretch toward home. Two jobs, an early morning barista shift followed by a break, and then a half shift at a call center always left you drained. But between the two schedules, you had time to do two classes a day or settle at the school library and bust out homework before it was due. No matter the time the sun had always hidden itself away before you could leave the call center.

The shitty and small bathtub in your flat and a bath bomb someone had given you for Christmas two years back called your name. The well of the tub was so thin that water got trapped behind you as you emptied it. You forgot that until you went to stand up and a flood of water rushes over your legs and toes.

You are flung, quite literally, from your thoughts when you meet a wall nose first. Rubbing your nose you step back and look up, and up, and up. Oh! You know this wall! He comes by your coffee shop regularly enough and always gives K as his name.

“Oh! Iced chai with two espresso, sorry about that. I should have been watching where I was going.”

The tall, broad man glances behind him. His face is hidden by a surgical mask, as always. When he glances back to you a spark of something, something concerning, lights in his eyes.

“You know me, ja?” At your confused nod he continues, “How much I pay you pretend we together?”

Blinking rapidly is your only response before your mouth forms a “wha” shape.

“Five hundred enough?”

“Uh-u-sure?”

He rips the mask off, shoving it deep in his pocket before grabbing your right hand in his left and circling a long arm around you, caging you between the combined length of your arms.

“How was work love?”

He stares down at you expectantly. The sound of pounding feet reaches your ears, the volume rising with each step.

“Honestly love? It was exhausting.”

His eyes get wider the closer the footsteps get. You wrench the hat off your head, ignoring the hat hair you undoubtedly have. Slapping it down over his massive skull you have never been more thankful for what your mother always complained of as your ‘overly large, vagina-tearing noggin’. It’s a bit of a tight fit but the layer of change helps his shoulders relax a fraction.

“What made it so bad?”

You start walking as he continues the charade, tugging him along despite his clear resistance.

“So, you know how my boss is a complete asshole right?” He grunts and you continue, “Well he just hired his daughter to be the office manager, which first off is clearly a nepo choice but I’m just a part-time employee what the hell can I say about it?”

Two men dressed all in black and guns on their hips race past the two of you with barely a glance.

“Not much,” he agrees, ear tipped toward the retreating footsteps. “How much to go to your apartment until I can get a ride here?”

“Your name.”

He looks down at you, brows pinched together under the brim of your borrowed hat.

“König.”

“Thank you, König. Yes, you can come and hang out at my apartment until you get your ride scheduled.”

The stress from his shoulders and the pinched look on his face disappeared.

“Now tell me more, I thought you worked at the coffee shop.” He falls into step with you now, slower shorter steps keeping up with your slightly elongated to accommodate for him.

“I do, I work the early shift at the café and then have a few hours off for school and homework before I do my late-night job so I can make rent.” Bumping his thigh with your hip you continue, “What do you do other than running from gangsters?”

“Mobsters,” he countered, “Blow stuff up, mostly.”

“Mmm. Quite impressive.”

The sound of footsteps, speeding back toward you sent both your hackles up.

König leaned down into your ear, “How much to kiss you?”

Mind can’t keep up with all these jumps and you spit out the first number word you can think of.

“Hundred!”

He lets out a small laugh, pulling you tighter to him and moving you both forward as he directs your steps closer to the wall. Your back hits the wall as the men come into view. König’s lips are on your before you can think of much else.

Could a brain give a blue screen of death? That’s the only way you can describe the complete lack of function your brain produces when his lips meet yours. Movement happens by need alone and that need has you pulling him closer, fingers digging into the flesh at his waist as you lick the seam of his lips. His forearm lands next to your head as his knees buckle slightly.

The footsteps slow as they pass you but the wanton, and frankly, too graphic to be outside of a bedroom or a porno sounds shoot erupts out of you, sending them scurrying away. Some masculine cologne sweeps into your brain, killing off the last of your brain cells. You would climb him like a tree given half a chance.

“Six hundred,” he whispers as he pulls back slightly.

Eyes unfocused, you blindly reach out and grab him by the collar. Dragging him back to your lips you catch his lower lip between your teeth, pulling gently as you lean away. The tiniest sound escapes from deep in his throat, a spear thrown that landed directly in your needy bits.

“Seven hundred,” you breathed on his lips.

Breaths mingling König watches you watch him. The condensation of his breath warms and cools your face.

“Those kisses are worth a hundred a piece,” he whispers as if worship is his primary language.

Movement from the edge of your vision alerts you to the mob’s incoming presence.

“Pick me up, keep pretending. I can direct you to my apartment,” an edge of panic creeps into your voice as you force your eyes to not move from his.

He does as you command, hands so wide they nearly span the width of your thighs as he lifts you, knees hugging his waist and ankles locking behind his back.

The giggle that escapes you is real. You were too solid for nearly any other man to hoist you like this. He settles both arms under your butt, holding you close. Flopping onto his shoulders, kissing up and down his neck you count the doorways until you see the one before yours and bite gently on König’s earlobe. He pulls you tighter when you start to murmur.

“This next door is mine. They are still following but looking way less suspiciously at us. Smack my ass.”

König didn’t need to be told twice. The crack of his large hand across your backside made the men following flinch and turn away, confident now that the man they had followed half a block was not the person they were looking for.

You didn’t mean to, but your jaw tightened, pinching his earlobe tighter as you whine into his ear. He let out a groan that would haunt your masturbation sessions until you reached death, dildo in hand.

Letting go of his ear you rest back on his shoulder. He rubs out the sting of his smack; your inner walls clench at the care.

“First door is unlocked. Head to the top floor. I’m in six.”

He isn’t breathing hard when he tops the several flights of stairs, even despite the additional weight of your body.

When he lets you down it is with a slide down the length of his body, a slight bulge at his zipper confirms you weren’t the only one affected by the shared kisses. You spin around, focusing diligently on the task of unlocking the door. Throwing the door wide you step in and gesture to the space.

“Get comfortable, call your ride. I need to change and get ready for bed. I have to be awake in five hours for work,” you don’t turn as you stalk further into your small apartment.

Shutting the bedroom door you cover your mouth with both hands as you force the deepest breaths you can manage through your nose. After the tenth deep breath, you are calm enough to change. Your long pants and ugliest hoodie are your shields. A soft, wireless bra you pray is enough to keep the ladies from trying to claw their way to say hello and a clean, dry pair of underwear is the last of the changes.

Stepping from the bedroom you find König staring out the window and down at the street.

“Wanna watch a show while you wait for your ride?” You twist the inner portion of your hoodie pocket around one finger.

“Ja,” he nods and settles into one corner of the couch with three massive steps.

Turning on something calming, settling yourself on the other side of the couch, a pillow wedged underneath your head. You are drifting when his phone buzzes once.

He curses in what sounds like German before tapping your leg with two fingers.

“My ride is delayed. Can I purchase more kisses?”

Any sleep that might have been gathering fled like birds as a toddler ran full force toward them. You popped upright, looking over every bit of the man you could see in the shifting light of the TV.

The serious cast to his face decided your answer for you. Crawling into his lap, not unlike the way he carried you home less than an hour ago, you settle yourself pussy to penis. The layers of clothing between you would not prevent you from enjoying this stolen bit of time.

“König, I am going to do my best to bankrupt you,” your fingers creep up his arms as his hands settle on your waist.

“Gut.”

No more words are shared, only base noises, keening cries, and the wet sounds of sloppy kisses.

Preemptive tags because I know how much these two people love König: @demothers-empty-blog @machveil

Masterlist

[ennabear]

Enna you’re so sweet to me im afraid you’re spoiling me too much, im gonna tear up i love you so much, thank you so sosoosso much

^so, maybe sevika giving reader a stress relief? And please dont feel rushed to do it or like you have to, if you dont feel like it id understand^

-📝

HAIII NONNIEBEAR i’m so sorry this took forever i have no excuse i’m just lazy and slow IM SORRY 😭😭 here is the long awaited blurb hehehe i hope you like it bae <33 18+

sevika is a god when it comes to stress reliefs, so when you walk through the door after a long day, tears in your eyes, a headache pounding at your skull, and with an empty stomach, she immediately knows what to do to brighten your night.

she starts by leading you to the shower and undressing you slowly, using the softest voice she can manage to whisper sweet nothings into your ears. she’ll rub your sore shoulders and back, grab your hips and give them a little squish, and run her hands all up and down your body to ensure that you know she’s got you. even when you’re half asleep and possibly in the worst mood you’ve ever been in.

once you’re showered and dried off, she’ll throw you a set of pajamas (her clothes, she insists on it) and prioritize feeding you next. either she’ll microwave you some leftovers or order you takeout, and then sit on the couch with you and ask if you wanna tell her about your day. if you do, she’ll sit and listen attentively, nodding and rolling her eyes as you tell her every detail. and if you don’t, she’ll understand and distract you by telling you one of her own stories. something happy.

when you’re fed and sleepy, she’ll make sure you take some painkillers and then flop down in bed with you. if you’re still grumpy by this time, she’ll press a million gentle kisses to your face and tell her about every little thing that she loves about you. you’ll start to squirm as her hands wander up and down your body and she starts to describe some more private things that she loves about you. you know exactly what she’s doing.

she’ll reach straight down and run her long, soft fingers over the inside of your thighs, and she’ll move higher and higher until she’s straight up groping your cunt. as always, she’ll smile and ask for your permission, but once you tell her yes, she’s yanking the covers off of you and diving right in.

your pants fly off of your hips as she tugs them down, and before you can even blink, her mouth is hovering just above the place you need her most. her big, silver eyes twinkle up at you as she grabs onto your thighs and hips, digging her fingers into you until you’re certain that there will be 5 human shaped bruises on your thigh, and 5 spiky, metal scratches on your hip.

and she makes a huge mess as she devours your cunt. she’ll spit on your lips and mix it all around with your tongue until there’s a clear puddle dripping down your ass, her perfect lips moving up to suckle onto your clit until you’re twitching and whimpering. her teeth might come out if she’s feeling that ferocious, and you might feel a few gentle nips to your inner thighs.

it doesn’t matter to her how many times you cum. the first time, she’s playing around in it— smearing it all up and down your pussy, webbing it through her fingers, stretching them apart, and then popping them into her mouth to lick it all off— and then she’ll start again. she’ll eat you out for hours until you either tap out after what feels like the hundredth round, or she’ll peek up at you to notice that you’ve fallen asleep.

as you’re cleaned up and cozy in bed, she’ll crawl in next to you and wrap you in her arms. when your eyes flutter open at the movement, she’ll kiss you until you fall asleep, and then she’ll fall asleep on top of you, squeezing you tightly with her human arm and snoring into your shoulder.

[woobly]

THERE SHE GOES . . . 한태산 !

PAIRING. taesan x crocheter! gn reader GENRE. fluff, uni au, strangers to ??? WARNINGS. both are in uni but no scenes about school itself lol WC. 1.4k

𓂋˚˖ A/N. lichrally dunno what this is, i just word vomited 😭 i was actually gonna make another acc bc i got kinda shy to post here again but im too lazy to do that so here we are, ig im a onedoor now too 😆 𓂋˚˖ NOW PLAYING. there she goes by the la’s

THE FIRST TIME TAESAN SEES YOU, you were casually walking into the train car along with the rest of the morning rush. One of your hands was clutched onto your bag while the other was inside the pocket of your black puffer jacket.

He wasn’t thinking about anything in particular. It was too early in the morning, and the music playing in his ears drowned all his thoughts out while on the way to his first class.

But upon seeing you, he was immediately awakened from his morning daze and stood up from his seat. Watching you switch places with him to stand beside your seated figure, he thinks he saw you say thank you, but he’s not sure.

Not thinking much of his gesture of giving up his seat, he looked out toward the city passing by outside. That was until the train entered another tunnel, and he was forced to look at something else; you, in his peripheral vision, had suddenly brought out a crochet needle and some yarn.

He was pleasantly surprised. People were usually on their phones while on the train, while here you were, your hands half buried in your jacket as they worked on some yarn as if you were in your own little world.

He wasn’t actually sure if you were crocheting or knitting or what. He had only overheard from the other students in his classes about how they crocheted in their free time, but he had never actually seen anyone do it.

He tilted his head once in a while to watch you, trying his best not to act like a creep. Not that you would notice anyway. He did this until he had to step off at his stop first.

The second time Taesan sees you, it was a Saturday. He unfortunately had a class in the morning, and he was on the way home after having lunch with his friends and spending some time in the library.

You were already seated on the train, hands busy once again. It wasn’t rush hour, so Taesan took a seat across from you.

You seemed to be counting something, perhaps the stitches, based on the way your mouth was moving. You furrowed your eyebrows, looking closer at your project, before pulling at the string of yarn exasperatedly. He was curious about what just happened, smiling at your frustration.

He caught himself glancing at you from time to time again. And this time, you almost caught him looking at you.

He saw you again a few times after that, to the point that he’s learned where to sit or stand so that he can see your reflection in the window to avoid being caught looking at you directly. He’s even learned what days of the week you usually share train rides.

At first, it was a little freaky how the two of you managed to be on the same train at the same time a few times a week, let alone the same car. But after a while, he started looking for you, wondering where you had gone on days when he’d usually seen you.

Months had gone by like that, Taesan watching you work on what seemed like different projects from a distance.

However, this time it was a little different. There were no other available seats except the one right beside you. There was still some space on the metal bars to hold on to, but something told him to take that seat (perhaps it’s the voices in his head aka Leehan urging him to do something about his little train crush; Taesan always denies it by saying it’s not a crush).

This time, it was difficult to see your face, so he could only look at your hands. He tried so hard to be subtle, but he supposes he wasn’t subtle enough because you suddenly put your needle and yarn down on your lap and took something out from your bag.

“Hey, I uh… made something for you,”

You were now looking at his wide eyes, a rush of different emotions suddenly coursing through him. Ashamed because you noticed him watching; touched because you made something for a stranger like him; and shy because you were talking to a guy like him.

He finally looked at your open hand that delicately held a stuffed black cat keychain.

“Is this a cat?”

“Yeah, that’s you,” you said as you smiled tightly. You acknowledge that he was a good-looking guy, but there was still something about him that intimidated you a little. “Um, I’m sorry if that offends you. I made it based on the vibe you gave off, but I don’t mean to stereotype based on the clothes you wear. Not that I made you a black cat because you always wear black, but the dark hair covering your eyes a little also kinda—,” you rambled, stopping when you see the look on his face and realizing you might have said too much.

Taesan chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended. May I ask why…?”

“Um… no reason,” you shrugged with another tight smile, trying to mask the blatant lie you just told him.

“Well, I’m honored. This is really cute,” Taesan smiled, looking at you then at anything but you.

You finally smiled with a more relaxed expression, lips pursing to keep yourself from smiling too widely.

“I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give it to you after already making it, plus you sat here today,”

The truth is, you also noticed him that first time. You noticed his repeated presence the same way he did. When he was looking outside, you looked around the train car only for your gaze to land on him. You actually lied when you said you made a keychain for him. It’s actually a gift meant for one of your friends, but you decided at the last minute to use it to shoot your shot—you could always make another one. If he realized that you were also watching him from what you just said, then he was nice enough to not bring it up.

“This is crochet, right?” Taesan asked as he looked around his bag for a place to hang the keychain.

“Yup! I like to do arts and crafts as a pastime, and crocheting is the most… mindless one for me—for lack of a better word,” you both chuckled. “But it also keeps me from falling asleep when I commute alone. That’s why I mostly do it on the train,”

Taesan nods, his mind still processing what was happening.

“You go to Hybe U, right? Saw your ID,”

You looked down at your lanyard and held it. “Oh yeah. You?”

“I go to KOZ,” Your eyes light up in recognition as it’s the college not far from yours.

“We should—“ “If it’s—“ you both say at the same time.

Chuckling, Taesan gestures for you to go first.

“We should hang out some time… is what I was gonna say,” you smiled, looking at the boy beside you.

“Yeah, I’d like that. And I was gonna say that if it’s any help, I could wake you up at your stop,”

You frowned in confusion. “But you get off first,”

“It’s okay. I have time before class,” Taesan smiled shyly, unsure what to do with himself after making such an offer.

You looked away, realizing the boy wasn’t as intimidating as you thought.

“Well, I’ll hold you to that.”

BONUS:

True enough, by midterms season, you spent most of your train rides asleep on Taesan’s shoulder. You started falling asleep in the middle of crocheting more often to the point that you stopped carrying your projects altogether and opted to indulge in Taesan’s insistence.

The both of you were on the way home when he was reminiscing about his conversation with his friends earlier that day.

“Look at you. Who would’ve thought you out of all people would carry so many keychains on their bag?” Leehan commented after the boy in question mentioned how that first black cat keychain was apparently not even meant for him. You told him after a while that you gave it to him in the spur of the moment as an excuse to talk to him.

“Yeah, it’s kinda funny seeing you in your band shirts then you turn around and suddenly there’s a bunch of colorful animals and characters. Personally, I really like the Sanrio ones,” Sungho said teasingly. “Plus the way I just know it’s you when you enter a room because your bag is so noisy,”

“It’s not funny, Y/N made them! The plastic ones they also got for me,” Taesan blurted in faux offense, smiling and internally agreeing with the older boy.

“Yeah no, it’s cute actually,” Sungho said before bursting into laughter.

“Then ask Y/N for one. Actually no, don’t do that,” his friends chuckled at him.

“Then make one for me,”

“You know, I’ve already asked them to teach me. But I sucked so bad, and Y/N fell asleep while waiting for me.” Taesan chuckled while recalling the first time you hung out at the library.

“Man, he’s got it pretty bad.”

© woobly, 2025. all rights reserved.

[supergraphicgirl81]

Destiny is Calling Me `♡´. ₊˚ ☎︎₊˚

Pairings: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: After hurriedly being rushed to the club by Lando and Logan, Oscar grapples with flashbacks of his past relationship and ponders the idea of fate as he unexpectedly runs into his long-term ex-girlfriend in a run-down college club after over a year and a half of not talking, at a school neither of them planned on going.

Warnings: none, just some cursing

Words: ....9.7K

Authors Notes: Okay guys it's happening. I’m literally about to go out to the club but I wanted to make sure I got this out first, I finally tried writing a full story. NFBJFBOUERBGPRE I'm so nervous but this plot has been haunting my mind for ages now and I needed it in actual words, so here it is. Guys if it is bad just tell me PLEASE but other than that I really hope you guys enjoy !!!!!!!! BTW it's very long, so sorry

Oscar didn't know why he was there really.

What he did know was that he had just spent the past 7 hours studying for his Thermodynamics Exam that was on Monday and that he had to wake up at 8 a.m. to do it all over again tomorrow.

But like any good teammate, or well roommate in this case, when Lando and Logan text you in dire need of assistance at the club, you go with no hesitation, even if they failed to mention that the “emergency” was Oscar's so-called loneliness that Lando claims he could smell even from across the screen. 

Oscar met Logan on the first day of college freshman year in some random class he can barely remember now. Logan always says it was Anthropology but Oscar swears it was Humanities. 

On the first day of class, Logan had to ask Oscar for a pencil because he forgot one, which Oscar of course didn't mind giving, especially because he gave it back. So when Logan sat in the same seat right next to Oscar during their second class meeting and asked him again to borrow a pencil, an unannounced friendship was created.

After about a week of small talk between the two, Oscar learned that Logan was looking for a sport to fill up his schedule with while he was in the off-season for football. Oscar explained how he was actually looking to try out for the Ice Hockey team at the school if he also happened to be interested. He had played all throughout high school and was looking into picking it back up after taking a break. 

It's safe to say Logan didn’t know how to play hockey, but he claimed he was a fast learner, Oscar still doesn’t know exactly how true that is. 

Now, it just so happens that Logan and Oscar also ended up meeting Lando that same day. And by meeting I mean Lando ran right into Logan while riding his skateboard in a hurry to class. Lando made sure to quickly exchange his number before riding away (late) to class, sending many apologies later and even offering to hang out.

From there an odd but somewhat working trio was formed through many late-night hockey practices and class study sessions. Now in their second year and unfortunately living together, Lando and Logan are convinced about getting Oscar out of his shell and more into the scene in which Oscar always refuses. This leads him to where he is currently, at the club, on a Saturday night. Which to be fair, is probably where he should be anyway.

Unmoved by their usual antics Oscar rolls his eyes at the two before speaking up in a hurry, trying to leave as soon as possible 

“Please don’t tell me you two called me down here because I was studying, in the quiet apartment, by myself?” Oscar emphasizes looking at Lando and Logan with his eyebrows raised and a deadpanned face. 

Lando quickly looks away from staring at Oscar, quickly determining the floor to be more important as Logan tilts his head left and right, throwing his hands up in a shrug, making a weird face at Oscar.

That is exactly what they did.

After their faces and a silence that went on for a couple of seconds too long, Oscar exclaimed in annoyance, slightly throwing his hands out “Guys! I literally have a test on Monday, I’m in major study-panic mode, I can’t be wasting time here at the club.” 

Lando immediately makes a shocked face at his words, offended by his soulless dismissal of the party life “But Oscarrrrrrrrr” He cries jumping up and down erratically before Logan puts a hand on his shoulder stopping him, and continuing on “Oh come on Oscar! Let’s be realistic here, you probably weren't even studying anyways, you were just listening to your “I’m still heartbroken over my ex” playlist, AGAIN” He insinuates, rolling his eyes at Oscar, he’s never met someone quite so down bad for a girl before, well besides maybe Charles Leclerc. 

Oscar Deadpans before standing up for himself “The playlist is called Getting OVER My Ex, you know that!” rolling his eyes “And you would be too if you knew her!”

Logan lets out a loose chuckle as he moves forward to pull Oscar to the dance floor but Oscar quickly takes a step backward before any of the two boys can get him

“No. You know what?” Oscar states confidently, sticking his chest out hesitantly “I am leaving, get home safely.”

He swiftly turns around and is about to make his way to the exit, shaking his head ever so slightly when he freezes.

And there she is. Oscar sees her, clear as day. He could never mistake that familiar silhouette.

A blonde is briskly making her way through the crowded club into the bar line surrounded by two other girls. As he watches her go by from afar, he's taken aback, he still sees everything so clearly, just like it was yesterday.  

FLASHBACK

It was Oscars freshman year and the first day back after Winter break, he was currently in between classes in the hallway and just about to head to the cafeteria to eat lunch with his friends. But first, he had to shove the extra textbooks Oscar checked out from the library for an up-and-coming project he had in his Biology class, into his locker.

Now Oscar oftentimes didn't mind work, but he couldn't believe that school had only just started back and his Bio teacher was already giving out projects to start. Not only that, but it was a partner project, meaning he either had to find a friend to partner with or just get stuck with a rando in his class picked for him by the teacher.

Guess which one Oscar was going with. 

Oscar stood outside his locker messing with the lock trying to get it to open when he heard a familiar laugh. Looking up to his side at the noise he saw a group of girls walking and laughing down the halls, deep in conversation.

More importantly, he saw the prettiest girl ever, this blonde girl, Y/N L/N, he always saw her around school, she was in a couple of his classes, Biology actually being one of them.

One time in Biology she flipped her hair over her shoulder and then (accidentally) made eye contact with him and smiled, and he claims that that was the best thing to ever happen to him. 

Looking back to his locker and continuing back to grumpily shoving his textbooks in his locker, Oscar blocked out all other noises and conversations around him, just like he always did.

So much so that he even failed to hear the little ‘Hellos’ coming from his right side. To be fair she was standing directly behind the locker.

Oscar didn't even notice somebody was standing there until he shut his locker door, slamming it admittedly a little harder than intended. This caused both Y/N and Oscar to jump.

Well, she jumped because of the unexpected loud sound, Oscar jumped because Y/N L/N was currently standing right in front of him. 

After Oscar just stared at her in silence for a few seconds too long, Y/N cleared her throat and started to speak “Uh, you're Oscar right?” She asks, the slightest pink ever so dusting her cheeks. Oscar nodded his head, starting to smile ever so slightly responding with “Yeah I’m Oscar. Y/N right?”

Shocked he knew her name as well Y/N smiled even brighter, standing up straighter “Yeah! It is, You're in my biology class, right?” “I am! I was actually just putting away some extra books I picked up, just some topic points for the project coming up” Oscar responds, huffing slightly at the end, clearly annoyed at the idea of the project.

Laughing lightly at his loud, telltale emotions Y/N speaks up “How annoying right? Like we just got back from break, how are you already freaking me out about my grades.” Y/N states still laughing, rolling her eyes as she comfortably leans against the locker looking at Oscar.

He laughs along with her sentiments feeling the same way, not exactly knowing what to say next. She makes him nervous. Noticing the sudden silence, Y/N straightens up standing up off the lockers, clapping her hands before starting her proposition.

“Well! As you know the Biology project is partner work, and I know you said you kind of already started with topics and everything but I was wondering -if you didn't have one already-  if you wanted to maybe be partners?”

Oscar cuts her off, quickly responding to her question “Yes! I mean yeah, that sounds cool, I don't mind showing you the topics I’ve thought about” Oscar stutters out trailing off towards the end, blushing slightly at his own eagerness and nerves.

He soon though relaxed once he saw her smiling, laughing slightly at him.

“Alright then.” Y/N smiles at him, blushing slightly as well “Sounds good.” She finishes as she reaches into her backpack's front pocket and pulls out a pen and a sticky note, moving it to the locker so she can write her number on it as Oscar just stares at her writing her number for him and hands him the sticky note once she's done. 

Just then the bell rings signaling that Lunch is starting, Y/N smiles at Oscar one more time before saying “Bye Oscar! I’ll text you later!” and turning around, walking down the hall towards the cafeteria where her friends are. 

Oscar can't help but continue to watch her walk down the hall until she's fully gone. Smiling to himself, he then turns back around to face his locker, opening it back up once more, this time pinning Y/Ns sticky note to the locker door before he closes it for the last time and heads off to the cafeteria. His lunch just got a whole lot better, he can’t wait to tell Daniel.

It has been a full year since Oscar last saw her, maybe even longer. He can’t believe he just saw her.

Suddenly Oscar is jolted out of his trance when he feels a hand on his shoulder shaking him slightly, he hears Lando speak up “Uh Oscar, are you alright?”,

Logan asks quickly after “Yeah buddy, you kinda froze, me and Lando thought you were leaving?”

“She’s here” Oscar ominously states with slightly wide eyes.

Lando swiftly looks to his right and left scrunching up his face before speaking back up, scared of Oscar's implications, asking “Uh who’s she?” 

Oscar then rolls his eyes shaking Lando's hand off of him before turning around and facing the two boys, crossing his arms, shiftily looking over their shoulders on the lookout, “My ex, I just saw her standing right over there in line, with her friends” Oscar states as he points towards the bar line on the far left side of the club. 

The sound of the revelation causes Lando to let out the biggest gasp Oscar’s ever heard from him (and that's saying a lot) while Logan's eyes bulge out of his head, mouth agape. The two boys who were taken aback and stunned into silence quickly burst out into questions, loudly overlapping each other

“What do you mean your ex?” “Now are we sure it was her?” “Like THE three-and-a-half-year long ex?”

Oscar again rolls his eyes at the two antics (he swears his eyes really are going to get stuck like that), looking to the side towards the bar area spotting a glimpse of the familiar blonde hair now walking towards the dance floor, Oscar sighs before explaining shortly, “Of course I mean that ex, shes my only ex!” Oscar exclaims impatiently at Logan and Lando as he faces them again closing his eyes shortly,

“I’m unfortunately 100% certain that's her, I would recognize her anywhere. Literally, what do I do, she hates me! The last time I saw her she was uncontrollably crying at me. I have to leave now!” Oscar starts to ramble off, going through with his final decision, turning around and briskly starting to walk away before Lando can grab him by the shoulders and pull Oscar back to the two. After being pulled back deeper into the club, Oscar shuts his eyes tightly in order to avoid the situation at hand.  

At the sudden, and very rare moment of silence, Oscar reopens his eyes to be met with Lando looking at his face all twisting up with concern, and Logan staring at him looking more determined than ever with his fist to his mouth, deep in thought.

Lando can't help but mumble quietly in response to Oscar as he awkwardly looks around the club “Well you did break her heart, I’d be crying too.” and Oscar can't help but let out a groan at Lando's insinuation as Logan starts his new plan of action for the night. 

“Well okay now..” Oscar groans again, louder this time not wanting to hear what Logan has to say, throwing his hands up, Logan continues

“Let’s! Think about this. Oscar, what is exactly so bad about this whole thing?” Logan asks genuinely, waving his hands around towards the hand.

With a face in shock and eyebrows raised high Oscar answers “Great question Logan, Let's see! Well uh for starters we dated for three amazing years and were supposed to last throughout college, until what happened again? Oh right! Until I broke us up right when high school ended so we could” Oscar finishes with quotations “experience life individually”

At the sound of Oscar's reasoning behind his and Y/Ns breakup, Oscar could see Lando's mouth drop even further, somehow more in shock Oscar would do something like that, and he himself couldn’t agree more.

Logan slightly cringes as Oscar explains his past before speaking up again “Okay, I’m hearing the issue, but still! What about the other parts of the three years, where you weren't breaking up with her? Weren’t they good?” 

At Logan's simple but taxing question, Oscar lets out another breath he didn't notice he was holding as he answers him “Of course, they were good, being with her was the time of my life”

Oscar can’t help but smile ever so timidly as he remembers one of his favorite moments with her. God, it felt like so long ago now. 

FLASHBACK

Oscar was currently running around his room tidying it up in the last places he could as he frantically looked at the clock. 2:52. Fuck. She’s almost here.

Ever since that one fateful locker meeting where Y/N and Oscar decided to be Project partners, Y/N has been over at Oscar's house around three times a week to study, or at least that's what they were saying.

Now realistically when Y/N came over they spent about 25% doing the project, the rest of the 75% came in just talking, driving around the city, and hanging out with each other.

It started as just normal studying until Oscar asked if she wanted him to walk her home one night, and when she happily obliged, they got to talking. This led to talking during the study sessions, which then turned to talking over text, constantly, which led them to where they are today.

Not that Oscar was complaining, he has never had a better time while doing his homework.

But she's been coming around so often now that it's gotten even harder to just push his feelings aside. Especially when he's trying to explain presentation points to her and she’s just staring at him, smiling, he has a hard time staying on topic.

Sometimes he thinks he's positive that she returns his feelings, cause surely nobody wants to actually meet up that many times to go over a project, right? But some days he also realizes that you're Y/N and he's Oscar and that he's realistically never stood a chance.

So naturally, with the abundance of hanging out going on, Oscar invited Y/N, yet again, today after school to continue working on their Biology project, to which Y/N of course obliged.

Which leads him to where he currently was, frantically pacing around his room waiting for the clock to strike 3.

Just as Oscar was sorting out a couple of last loose items on his desk he heard a knock at his door, promptly causing him to roll his eyes, moving to open his bedroom door while simultaneously jokingly, but not jokingly scolding his mother “What Mom? You know Y/Ns coming over, what's so import-” Oscar stops mid-sentence as he opens his door to see Y/N standing there, in all her glory.

Making a shocked face, cheeks blushing ever so lightly, Oscar chuckles “Y/N! You are indeed not my mother” Oscar laughs it off, trying his hardest to not make things awkward as he stands frozen in the doorway. 

Y/N noticing his very obvious nerves, tilts her head to the side and laughs it off “I am indeed not your mother. That would make this a little weird.” She ever so slightly insinuates pushing past Oscar and the door, into his room immediately making her way to his bed, after carelessly throwing her backpack to the side, she jumps onto Oscar's bed and flips around, lying on her stomach, kicking her feet up in the air. 

Oscar watches in awe as she makes her way confidently through his room, straight to his bed. He shakes his head ever so slightly at her throwing her backpack before moving across the room as well, plopping down right next to her on his bed, laying down on his back.

Taking in the silence and her presence, Oscar closes his eyes briefly.

However after a couple of minutes, slightly perturbed by the silence from the usually chatty girl, Oscar reopens his eyes to check and see what she's up to. 

He was deeply surprised to be met with her eyes already staring at him, she was smiling warmly at him with the faintest pink cheeks, hair strands falling down her face, she looked kind of perfect.

Caught off guard by the hard-staring Oscar raised a brow at her already questioning actions, before vaguely smirking while squinting and asking out loud “What are you staring and smiling at” 

Feeling slightly caught, Y/Ns cheeks light up as she moves from her current position on his bed to crossing her legs. Still sitting right in front of him, she smiles sheepishly, trying, but not succeeding, to laugh it off “Nothing. Mind your business Piastri.”Y/N responds tilting her head to the side again as she continues to look down at Oscar.

This causes Oscar to smile brightly, pushing up on his forearms and resting on them so he’s closer to you before he answers your sass “I think this is my business.” Staring into Oscar's eyes you chuckle lightly at his response to you, squinting at him, it’s so Oscar. 

  There are a couple of moments of silence before Oscar lets out a large sigh and a smile, causing you to roll your eyes as Oscar then sits up from his position on his bed so he can grab his textbook at the edge of the bed saying “Alright then.” before laying back down in his same spot (maybe slightly closer to Y/N, but who’s counting).

Opening up the textbook, Oscar flips through the pages before landing on the one he's looking for, he then looks back up at Y/N asking “Ready to start?” 

Y/N stared down at Oscar for a couple more seconds, nodding ever so lightly, but instead of answering, in one quick motion, she leaned down from her position and grabbed Oscar's face softly before kissing him.

The kiss was so short Oscar didn't even have time to resonate that he should be kissing back before she pulled away. 

Moving quickly, Y/N moved to sit up relaxing slightly, sitting more on her side, smiling timidly, until Oscar carefully, but swiftly placed his hand on her face and pulled her back down again, kissing her this time. The kiss only lasted a couple of seconds longer until they were pulling away again. The pair stayed there for a couple of seconds just looking at each other. 

Both smiling like idiots, giggling softly, Y/N goes to respond to Oscar's previous question “Yeah, I’m ready.” She answers leaning slightly on him as she grabs her pencil, cheeks red and smiling widely.

Oscar chuckles along softly with her also moving closer to her before starting the project “Alright then, I think it's about time we talk about exploring the potential of biofuels for sustainable energy sources” 

Coming back to his sad reality, Oscar opens his eyes to see Lando looking at him, almost on the verge of tears, yet jumping up and down exuberantly, before he goes to speak “Osc that's great news!” He finishes with a voice crack.

Oscar feels slightly weirded out by Lando's random burst of happiness over him and his ex-girlfriend he's never met and yet he also finds it comforting.

In an attempt to make Lando understand Oscar's situation more, Oscar tries to answer Lando “I mean not really at all, but thank you-” Oscar gets quickly cut off by Logan who is now looking at Oscar deeply offended.

“Oscar! I don’t get it. Your ex-girlfriend of three great years is here and you have the chance to rekindle it! You broke it off, and now you can mend it back up! Literally save the day!” Logan exclaims, which prompts Oscar to roll his eyes, annoyed by Logan's determination to solve this

“Logan you don’t understand. I broke it off for a reason” Oscar emphasizes, the guilt from that night starting to creep up on him.

Logan sees Oscar's growing impatience and decides to take it back a notch, slowing down for a second before responding to Oscar “You're right I don't understand. Why did you really break up with her? If it was so good then why did you end things?” 

Oscar promptly goes to answer Logan “I-” Before stopping and huffing slightly, taking a couple of seconds before he decides to pull Logan and Lando further to the side of the still-busy club, making it easier for him to talk. 

“I guess I was just scared.” Oscar lets out, staring back at Logan and Lando’s so far blank faces for a couple of seconds, before speaking again “I mean I know that's probably boring of me to say but, I was scared for me and Y/N to have a future together. All we had ever known was each other and I guess I just sort of started to wonder that maybe it would be best to live our lives a little separately.”

After that first sentence, the words just started to pour out of Oscar, it was easy for him to remember, he thinks about the night he decided more than he probably should. 

FLASHBACK

Oscar sat there on the edge of his bed. He had just gotten out of the shower and was supposed to be starting on his AP English literature essay that’s due tomorrow which he had been pushing off recently.

But instead, he found himself just sitting there, thinking. He found that he often spent his life thinking these days, it felt like 24/7 to Oscar. Well you know, at least when he had the time to. 

He was always thinking about something, whether he wanted to or not.

He was thinking about the hockey practices he needed to drill and nail down. If it wasn't hockey practices, it was the handful of college applications he had to complete, deadlines were coming soon. And of course, if it wasn't applications it was always Y/N.

And while yes in the first couple of years, Oscar never minded making Y/N one of his top priorities, now, it was starting to take a toll. It was Oscar's senior year of high school and instead of partying, having fun, and just letting loose he was always on edge, freaking out about his future.

He was nervous about his future in college, nervous about his future with hockey, and most nervous about his future with Y/N, recently he had just been thinking. 

As he sits on his bed absentmindedly staring at his walls he feels his phone vibrate, looking at the message as it briefly pops up on his screen, Oscar sees Y/N's name flash across. Oscar subconsciously lets out a sigh as he stares at the screen until it goes black.

Lately, it’s almost like she's been getting on his nerves, Oscar just didn't know why.

Standing up abruptly, Oscar made his way over to his desk, picking up his backpack from the ground, and placing it on his desk. As Oscars grabs his notebook and textbook from his backpack the photos that he has had hung on his board since sophomore year catch his eye.

In particular, he focuses on the photobooth photo.

It’s a series of 4 photos of Y/N and Oscar on one of their dates, it was one of his favorites, it’s where he said I love you for the first time, cliche maybe, but it was perfect, kind of like them. Or at least kind of like how they used to be. 

As Oscar stares at the photos of him and Y/N, he smiles ever so slightly, thinking of all the good times they’ve had before the small smile drops.

There his mind goes again, Oscar sighs heavily, he doesn't understand why he's having such trouble with your guy's relationship recently, he knows you guys fight, and maybe it's been more frequent than normal, but why has this relationship been such a strain on him?

It’s probably because it just turned into an unwanted cycle, Oscar calls Y/N and something about it makes her upset, Y/N goes over to Oscars and something upsets Oscar, and probably her as well. Everything was just starting to feel like a lose-lose situation and he wondered when this started happening. 

As his thoughts start to rack up again, Oscar pauses grabbing his stuff from his backpack, and breathes slightly for a couple of seconds before moving to sit back on the edge of his bed.

He feels his phone vibrate again and he closes his eyes, thinking hard this time.

Oscar has had his eyes set on you since your guy's freshman year. Oscar has known he has wanted to be with you, for as long as you will allow, since freshman year. Oscar also knows that it has been 3 years since then and you both have grown, perhaps even differently. 

Opening his eyes and turning his head. Oscar stares back at the photobooth photo, frowning slightly.

You two will be going to college soon and will be growing in so many different ways, so different that maybe staying together will hinder those experiences.

Oscar's thoughts feel silent for a second before he recognizes it, maybe that's what he has been feeling lately. Trapped in a box.

Going to college means new experiences, new traditions, new friends, and maybe even a new girlfriend? Or at least, experiencing the individual life. He doesn’t want another girlfriend outside of Y/N, he just doesn’t want a relationship at all in general right now.

That’s a new thought for him. 

Hearing a faint noise from the kitchen, Oscar breaks out of his trance from staring at the photo. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom door, heading to the bathroom before catching himself in the mirror that hangs on the back.

He was surprised to see watery eyes staring back at him when he looked in the mirror. After standing there for what felt like an eternity, Oscar let out a little sniffle as he nodded slightly to himself, almost in agreement with what he just decided in his head.

He knew what he, unfortunately, needed to do, it was time for new experiences, right?

Lando speaks this time trying to break through to Oscar’s overwhelming silence “Okay… So now we get that part Oscar, but still, can’t you at least just talk to her about all of this? Explain it to her maybe?” Lando tries to reason before Logan speaks up “And for all you know, it's been a couple of years, you two have both probably changed so much, she knows that.”

Oscar stares at the two as they try to sound hopeful for him, Oscar feels bad for shooting the two down so fast. They just didn't understand the levels behind him and you. 

It came out of nowhere, she was so blindsided he didn't see how she could forgive him, he wouldn't.

After a couple of seconds Oscar sighs again before raining on their parades “You guys don't understand how it went down. You didn't see her face. I genuinely had never seen her so upset before.” Oscar winces as the memory replays in his head before sighing and continuing.

“And the worst part was that I was the one that caused it.” He regrets every day how it all went down, that’s not how he wanted you two to go out. 

FLASHBACK

Oscar was currently sitting on the edge of his bed, again. Frozen in something. Fear, guilt, annoyance, he didn’t know.

What he did know is that after the revelation he made Monday, he decided on a plan for himself, now it was Friday night, and he had invited you over. 

You were currently sitting on his bed as well, just much more relaxed, leaning up against his headboard, staring at him as he sat there on the edge.

See, Oscar about five minutes ago was just cuddling with you until he had to go to the bathroom, but then when he came back, instead of getting back in bed with you, he sat on the edge of the bed.

After about two minutes of silence, Y/N decides to finally see what’s happening

“Uh, hey Osc?” She questions as she moves from her position to sitting right behind Oscar, placing her hand on his shoulder blade and continuing with her question “What’s happening? Is everything okay?” 

At the sound of her last question, Oscar closes his eyes, inhaling a deep breath before opening his eyes and letting out his breath. Oscar turns his body to the side so he can look at Y/N. He sees her smiling small at him, with no clue in the world.

“I think we should break up” 

Oscar watches clear as day as Y/Ns smile slowly drops, her face quickly turning deadpan “What?” She mumbles out, wanting to make sure she actually heard him correctly.

There is absolutely no way she just heard him correctly.

At the sight of her state, Oscar starts to panic and ramble “I just think that at this stage in our life, it would be best to live our own, individual lives and not be so caught up in each other.” Y/N doesn't say anything as her eyes rapidly start to water, threatening to spill as Oscar continues on, even more flustered

“I mean think about it, we haven't even actually been truly happy in a while!” Oscar exclaims still in panic. This last sentence causes all the tears to start coming out as Y/N quickly moves to stand up off his bed, roughly grabbing her backpack as she simultaneously wipes her consistently flowing tears.

Oscar quickly stops his overflowing words at the sight of the girl he loves grabbing all her loose items around his room, sobbing quietly, the weight of his actions now weighing on him. 

The room is silent besides the clattering sound of Y/N picking up her stuff and Y/Ns muffled cries

“Y/N” Oscar mumbles out, she lets out another sob, standing still for a second as she turns even farther away from him, almost as if she were waiting for him to continue on. Oscar noticing her pause, takes the hint “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

She lets out a watery scoff at Oscar's weak apology, turning around and glaring at him slightly as she asks “You're sorry? You're breaking up with me. But you're sorry?”

Oscar can feel his heart breaking at the tone of her voice, all he can do in this situation is nod at the crying girl mumbling back “I am”

You stare at him for a couple of seconds more, tears still falling as you let out a short breath, shaking your head “God, Three years Oscar! Three years we’ve been together,  literally through everything, and now all this” Y/N gestures wildly with her hands between the two “because you want to try new experiences.”

As Y/N finishes her emotional tangent Oscar can’t help but just stand and stare at her. This is so different to him, so… not them.

Oscar nods his head ever so slightly again, shrugging along with it, tired of having to constantly explain everything. Y/N stares at him for a little bit longer, almost as if she's taking in all his last details as if she’ll never see him again. 

After about a minute Y/N lets out a short sniffle as she moves to grab her backpack from his desk, before turning back around to Oscar

“I hope you have the time of your fucking life.” Y/N states bitterly before walking past him out his bedroom door for the last time. Oscar quickly calls out in a moment of desperation “Y/N/!” But Oscar soon hears his front door slam close and lets out an unexpected breath.

It takes Oscar about three minutes until he decides to move from where he's standing.

At least that's how much time he thinks he was frozen, he wasn’t really paying too close attention, his mind was somewhere else. Oscar couldn't decide what he was currently feeling.

On one side, he was relieved, he felt like a weight had honestly been lifted off his shoulder.

But on the other side, Oscar was convinced he just lost the love of his life. 

Oscar finally made the move to sit down opting for his favorite spot, the edge of the bed. As he sat down, he closed his eyes for a second and just breathed.

He felt okay, almost alright, it was a big step, but he was happy he went through with it, this was the first step to feeling better he just knew it. Or at least he thought he knew. Until he opened his eyes and looked to his right and there it was, as it always was, the photobooth photo.

That’s when everything came crashing down on Oscar. 

He was so scared, so unsure of his own future that instead of leaning on the one person who would help him through anything to talk about things, he pushed you away, so far away.

In fact, he didn't push you away, he absolutely obliterated your heart.

You gave him three years, three challenging, yet perfect years, that he would never have changed for the world, and all he did to repay you was make empty promises and stomp on your heart.

Oscar felt like he was going to be sick.

“The worst part was the second she left, I regretted it immediately. I’ve never stopped regretting it actually.” Oscar states as he solemnly looks towards the floor.

Hearing no response, Oscar lifts his head up, raising a brow looking back at Logan and Lando, questioning their silence “What? No “How could you do that to her” or “You're right Oscar she should hate you”?” Oscar offers, still confused and slightly thrown off by their unnatural quietness.

Lando lets out a short chuckle as Logan starts back up “Look Oscar, you guys were kids! Literally, and you spent multiple years growing up together, it's normal to take breaks, and it's normal to make mistakes. I genuinely think if you just tried and talked to her it could actually work out pretty well for you” Logan bargains with Oscar as he looks towards the dancefloor having a clear view shot of her with her friends.

He lets out an unknowing, reflective smile as he sees her newer yet ever-the-same frame dancing around to the song. He looks back to Logan with a small smile on his face, somewhat content that he even got to see her after all this time. Especially looking this well.

“Look Logan… oh and Lando” Oscar off-handily gestures to the latter, Lando quickly bows his hand at the added sentiment

“I appreciate it, but I think our time has just passed. I had a great thing and I threw it away.” Oscar confesses “And while I don’t regret it, because I'm glad I've gotten to take this path in life and meet these people,” Insinuating to the two standing in front of him, which they both coo at, covering their hearts with their hands

“I do miss her.” He finally admits out loud “But hey, that’s life.” Oscar ends his speech with a small shrug in proper Oscar fashion. 

Logan lets out a long “Booo” at Oscar's confession making him chuckle faintly before Lando steps in, bringing up the energy again.

“That’s alright man, we just want you to be happy!” Lando states as he throws an arm around Oscar's shoulder “Thanks, mate.” Oscar gratefully replies “Anything you want, we will understand-” Lando drunkenly and unnecessarily continues on before Logan sharply cuts him off, “I think he's got it, Lando.” Logan pats Landos back.

“And what I want” Oscar starts as he moves out from underneath Lando's arm, “is to go home and study. Alone. By myself. Just me and my playlist” Oscar clarifies to the two making sure they got the hint to which Logan quickly replies

“Yeah yeah, message received, get home safe dork.” He finishes as he ruffles Oscar's hair causing Oscar to let out a scoff and push him away as he replies “You too. Look out for him” He says as he throws his head in the direction of Lando who is already back to dancing before he turns around towards the exit.

Starting his journey through the perimeter of the club, Oscar narrowly avoids many drunk rando encounters, including an almost dangerous spill of some sort of brown liquor, before finally making it to the exit. 

Just as he was about to leave, he heard the familiar tune. Oscar would remember those opening notes from anywhere.

More so Oscar would remember who he was staring at when the notes first actually meant something to him.

Stopping directly in his tracks at the so-called fateful revelation he just had, Oscar made a quick and easy decision. He briskly turned around in his spot and swiftly made his way back through the bar area of the crowded club, passing all the same strangers from the first time, before eventually coming out on the other side, slightly out of breath.

Who knew navigating through a club was such a workout? 

Oscar immediately spotted Logan and Lando standing on the outer crowd of the dancefloor dancing weirdly, and he booked his way back over to them.

Slightly out of breath Oscar's pants as Logan exclaims towards him in confusion “Oscar? What are you doing here?”

Oscar goes to answer him but is quickly cut off by Lando also questioning “We thought you were going home?”

Rolling his eyes and still breathing hard from the fast walking, Oscar finally lets out a short “It's our song.”

Both of their faces stared back at him, scrunched in confusion, they didn't hear him over the blaring music, Lando obnoxiously yelled out in response “What?”

Oscar rolls his eyes yet again before yelling even louder this time “It’s me and Y/Ns song!”

This causes Lando to immediately gasp “Oh my god!” Lando yells in response as he starts jumping up and down “That has got to be a sign!” He excitedly starts hitting Logan repeatedly before he pushes him off, and starts asking Oscar in a wondering tone

“What do you mean by your guy's song? That’s very old-fashioned and almost out of date don't you think? Very not Oscar thing.” He asks raising his eyebrow, sort of caught off-guard that Oscar participated in something like that before continuing “I mean especially this song?”

Oscar briefly rolls his eyes before backing your guy's relationship up “Yea, Look, I always thought the same thing but she was always really into music and always so set on us finding a song. So I would always recommend some that made me think of her and everything but she always shot them down until one night we were out at a party, and it just clicked. And I got what she meant, every time I hear this song now I feel like I'm kind of transported to that night”

As the song continues playing around him he takes a couple of seconds to remember it clearly. 

FLASHBACK

“Come on Osc, don’t be such a party pooper!” Y/N exclaims towards the boy as she throws her hands in the air.

It was a Saturday night and you two were currently at a random classmate's house party standing closely at the drinks table. Oscar was in the middle of pouring her and him a random mixed drink as she continued to plead and beg at him.

She’s spent the last ten minutes of the party trying to corral Oscar onto the dancefloor with her. She kept claiming to him that she was in serious need of dancing but she refused to go out there alone and he refused to go with her.

While she loved to dance and would do it anywhere, anytime, to any music, Oscar very much was the opposite. He found it awkward and it always made him uncomfortable. For her, he would always try and every once in a while, she could get a little dance out of him, although most times he just avoided the question altogether.

But tonight didn't seem to be one of those nights.

As Oscar holds out the drink handing it to her, sipping on his own, she continues with her tangent “I just don't see why you won't just go out there with me at least for one song! That’s all I'm asking”

She takes the drink from his hand, offering a small thank you as she goes to drink it, her throat burning from the strong taste causing her nose to scrunch up. Oscar smiles a small smile at her before rebutting

“It’s just not my thing Y/N, you know that” He responds ever so nicely causing Y/N to let out a little, sad sigh “I know, I thought I would still at least try” She smiles dimly as she chugs the rest of her drink before smiling at him

“Welp! If you need me, I’ll be on the dancef loor” She states, leaning forward to him slightly as she finishes her statement, giggling slightly as he chuckles along with “Alright now, be safe out there” He states watching her make her way to the dancefloor.

And that’s where Oscar spends his next five minutes, chilling against a random wall, sipping a way too strong a drink he made as he watches her dancing around with some random girls she just met.

Every once in a while she would look over at him and smile brightly, almost asking if he wanted to join her, to which he'd always do a small head shake and smile back in response. He was perfectly fine by the wall.

That was until the opening chords to Mr. Brightside started.

At first, Oscar rolled his eyes, he honestly couldn't believe that they were whipping out Brightside at this random ass house party. He wasn’t new to this song, he’s heard it plenty of times at parties, but it was never anything special to him.

That was until he saw her lighting up on the dance floor, jumping around at the opening chords, he remembered once before how she told him what this song felt like for her, just pure happiness, and now watching her dance around to it out there, he finally gets what she meant. 

That's when Oscar realizes just how stupid he is for standing, leaning against a damn wall like a loser while his beautiful, amazing girlfriend is out there waiting to have fun with him.

He shakes his head at himself before quickly chugging the rest of his drink, throwing it into the trashcan, and making his way over to her on the dance floor. 

“Mind if I join?” Oscar asks the simple question as he lands right in front of Y/N in the middle of the crowd, once she realizes it is him her face immediately lit up, exclaiming happily

“Oscar! You’re here! Just in time, I love this song” She yells, jumping up and down in front of him as he bops along softly to the song

“Do you really? I never knew.” He states smiling brightly as he watches her dancing around to the song.

What can he say, she and Mr. Brightside go along together really well. 

Just as the pre-chorus was building she excitedly grabbed Oscar’s hands, still dancing around as she sang along to the chorus loudly “Jealousy, turning saints into the sea, swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis” Y/N laughs loudly leaning into Oscar slightly, catching her off guard as he also starts to yell along to the chorus,

“But it's just the price I pay! Destiny is calling me!” He enthusiastically moves his hand as if it is a microphone between the two of them as they both yell out the rest of the chorus

“Open up my eager eyes! Cause I’m Mr. Brightside” Y/N continuously laughs as she continues to dance around with Oscar to the song. 

She's never seen him like this, she wishes she could frame it on her wall and never lose this Oscar, he was perfect.

Staring at him with bright eyes she leans in slightly and yells out to him over the finishing song “Do you know what just happened?” Oscar curiously raises an eyebrow as he continues smiling at her, already enjoying what she's about to say.

“That just became our song” She blushes proudly as she does a little dance, happy that it happened to be Mr. Brightside of all songs.

Oscar laughs softly at her antics as he responds “I guess it did, I think I get it now.” He says as he gives her one last smile before leaning in quickly, pecking her on the lips, and continuing to dance around, both laughing hard.   

 “What a bummer man” Logan responds at the idea of Oscar feeling stuck in this song.

Again, Mr. Brightside of all choices? He did it to himself.

Until Lando abruptly shoves him to the side “No!” He states boldly, grabbing Oscar's shoulders, shaking them slightly as he gives his big speech of the night (this happens every time Lando drinks)

“This is what I call a sign Oscar. A sign from the world that you and this girl were meant to be. Please tell me, what are the odds that you run into Y/N at a random college club, let alone have your guy's song come on?” Silence overtakes the two, neither of them answering

“I'm for real Oscar, tell me the odds?!” Lando shouts shaking him harder, causing Oscar's eyebrows to knit in confusion, drunk Lando has lost him. “Lando, I don't know?” He states shrugging heavily before Landos yells at him again

“Exactly! Who the fuck knows and who the fuck cares! Go talk to the damn girl Oscar and make her fall in love with you again!” Lando finishes his tangent with a one-handed shove to Oscar, pushing him farther towards the dancefloor.

Oscar nods his head slowly feeling actually charged by Lando's speech, surprisingly, he's right.

Who cares, he messed up and he still misses you, why should he let this opportunity pass him when you're right there? Who knows when he’ll see you again? 

“You're right Lando.” Oscar admits “Damn right, I am!” Lando exclaims loudly at Oscar's revelation “Not too much now” Logan states again patting his shoulder and pulling him back slightly. Oscar rolls his eyes at the comment but continues

“I’m going to go find her and talk to her.” Oscar confidently states starting to walk away to the crowd as the two other boys cheer him on before Oscar quickly stops and turns back around to face the boys causing them to let out a series of disappointing, but not surprised ‘ooos’ and ‘awes’.

Oscar smiles sheepishly before clarifying “Or at least just say hi.” Oscar reasons with them, Logan and Lando nod along to that, agreeing with him as they continue to cheer him on, whooping and hollering again as he walks away “You get that girl!” “We’re proud of you Oscar!”   

Oscar chuckles to himself faintly as he makes his way back through the crowd once again, this time on a mission to find Y/N, especially before the song ends.

He thought it would take forever to be honest having to sift through all the people, but it didn't take him long to find her familiar blonde hair and smile.

I guess old habits die hard.

Once he spotted her he quickly made his way through the people, apologizing here and there before finally reaching her. He’s just lucky she had an empty pocket around her in the middle of the crowded club.

Oscar found himself standing directly behind her and after catching his breath for a second, he planned on tapping her shoulder. Well, if only he would just move.

He didn't know what was happening but he was frozen, just like plenty of times before, all his doubts were starting to creep in. He even started to wonder if he should just turn around and leave and he almost did

That was until somebody accidentally shoved the random guy standing right next to him causing him to slightly fall right into Y/N. 

Well, shit. No going back now. 

As soon as Y/N turned around her eyebrows immediately shot up and her mouth dropped open, and after about a second of stuttering she finally got out her question “Oscar?” Confusion and amazement all over her face before Oscar answers

“Y/N.” She immediately in return let out “Oh my god” To which Oscar couldn't help but agree “Oh my god is right”

As if she's double-checking a list of impossible things in her head she asks one last question “And Mr. Brightsides playing?” Oscar winces slightly but plays it off quickly “It is” Oscar responds sheepishly as the song continues to surround them, almost feeling louder now.

Did they turn the sound up in the club, or was it just Oscar? 

After a couple of seconds, maybe minutes of silence Oscar and Y/N accidently speak up at the same time “Hi.” “Hey” The two mumble over each other, unaware of how to go about the unfamiliar awkwardness

“Do you want to step outside?” Y/N asks as Oscar nods his head rapidly and shyly responds “Yeah, that would be nice” She gives him a final nod as well then loosely, takes his wrist in hand, and makes her way, leading the two of them through the busy crowd.

As the two of them walk through the club to get outside, Oscar sees a glimpse of Lando and Logan who happen to be throwing him the biggest smiles he’s ever seen with big thumbs up.

Rolling his eyes, he picks up his speed ever so slightly so they can get away from everyone faster, he hopes she didn’t notice them.

She didn't.

She was too caught up in the fact that she was currently guiding her long-time ex-boyfriend through a club so they could finally talk.

As the two of them finally make it out of the club they just stand there for a couple of seconds, the now very sudden silence filling in all the gaps.

Y/N makes a move and sits on the curb of the sidewalk outside the club, resting her head on her arms that are draped over her legs, taking in the silence outside. This isn't exactly where she imagined her night going.

At the need of wanting to stay close, Oscar swiftly follows her as he moves to sit right next to her on the curb, staring at the building lights that surround them before turning his head to stare at Y/N who was also enjoying the lights.

Oscar can’t help but let out the softest smile at the sight of the same girl he grew up right next to.

Feeling his eyes on her, Y/N turns her head to face him as he's staring at her, ready to start the conversation that's been hanging in the air “Oscar” She starts slowly “Y/N” He responds.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, or ever again really.” She sheepishly admits to him before continuing on “What brings you here tonight?” She asks, wanting to at least start a genuine conversation before she asks him why he broke her heart.

Caught slightly off guard by the casual question, Oscar answers “Uh, well I was actually studying for a big midterm I have coming up but my roommates, Logan and Lando called me here in an emergency.”

This causes Y/Ns face to immediately change from listening to concerned, knitting her eyebrows together, placing her hand softly on Oscar's arm, ready to console “Oh my god are they okay?”

He blushes at the contact before stuttering “Oh yeah they're fine, don’t worry about them. They just didn't want me studying on a weekend, they get weirdly concerned for me.” Oscar embarrassingly admits, making a puzzled face as he confesses his roommate's overbearing protection as Y/N giggles ever so slightly in response.

 “I didn’t know you went here.” She states boldly with slight confusion written all over her face, gesturing to the school campus surrounding them

“I mean I just never heard about it before when we were,... you know.” She awkwardly leads off, as he ineptly chuckles, rubbing his neck and explaining how he landed at this school

“Yeah I just figured I needed something completely new, try something out just for myself.” He finishes as he moves his vision from her to the road in front of them, feeling guilty for how he's sounding right now.

It's reminding him a lot of that night.

There are a couple more beats of silence before she decides to speak up “I get what you mean. That's why I chose this school too, a fresh restart, a chance to grow singularly.” She says with a slight smile

Oscar moves his vision back onto her, and smiles small at her, nodding along with her sentiments as he hears the growth in her letting out the smallest “Yeah.”

Maybe this time it can be different.

There are a couple of more beats of silence when they're just staring at each other before Y/N speaks up and finally asks the question 

“Why did we break up?”

He feels his eyes quickly become glassy at the sound of her frail voice, he looks down quickly at the floor, sniffling before looking back up at her and finally explaining himself

“I got scared. I was being a stupid teenage boy and I threw everything away because I thought that I would find something better out there. I was being selfish and I broke your heart, and I’m so sorry.” Oscar lets out a genuine confession as he watches her face contort to the information.

Eyes watering even more she lets out a small scoff before saying something he wasn't expecting “You weren't being stupid Oscar. And you especially weren't being selfish.”

Finishing with a sniffle, Oscar knits his eyebrows at the sound of this and opens his mouth to say something before Y/N continues

“You did the right thing. You actually did a very brave thing that I would’ve always been too afraid to do. I knew we had issues, and I knew the second I left your room that you were right. We did need time apart to grow individually, it fucking sucked, but you made the right call.” Y/N admits as she looks upon him with a small, sad smile

“I just wish you would have talked about it with me and we could have made the decision together but hey, it seemed to work out well for the two of us” She finishes with a watery laugh as he nods along.

“I know, I should have, and I'm sorry I didn't. I don't know why I felt like I had to do everything by myself. But you're right, it seemed to turn out well for us.” Oscar states

“That it did” She repeats back to him smiling softly at him as she leans back against her arms resting on her legs

Oscar smiles back as he looks down at her, he speaks again quietly, almost in a whisper “I’m sorry again, you didn't deserve that, I regret it every day knowing that I made you upset like that”

Y/N takes in his genuine face, eyes flitting all around before smiling small and responding with a “Thank you, Oscar, I appreciate it”

He just continues to smile at her in response for a little before turning his head back to building lights, soaking in the silence he gets to spend just sitting here with her.

After a couple more minutes Oscar turns back to her to find Y/N fighting to keep her eyes open as she stares around her. This causes Oscar to let out a small chuckle as he asks her

“Should I uh, walk you back to your dorm” This causes Y/N to close her eyes, nodding sleepily as she responds to his offer “That would actually be great, thank you”

He chuckles at her state as he stands up before sticking his hands out to Y/N to help her stand up which she easily obliges before asking her

“So where do you live?”     

[sweetchillipeppers]

Jason Todd x Reader - Teacher AU

Pairing: Jason Todd x Gender Neutral!Reader

A/N: Y’all what if I actually got back into writing fics? I didn’t know I could do that. But write what you want to see. And I want to see English teacher by day, Red Hood by night Jason Todd with History teacher reader so sue me. More importantly, I want to see Damian in reader’s classroom at lunchtime bitching about his brother. I already have part two, so that will be posted soon. (And y’all get to have a look at the Red Hood!)

Also I believe this is gender neutral if anyone sees gendered language let me know and I'll fix it.

Tags: Rivals to lovers, kind of mutual pining, Teacher AU Word Count: 3368

Pt 1 Pt 2

You were warned that teaching would be just like high school all over again. The same cliques and bullies and drama that plagued the halls when you were 15, to be repeated now that you’ve returned to the school as an adult. To think that fully grown human beings are still caught up in the same scandals, doomed to the same behaviour 10 years after they should have grown out of it. You never would have believed it until you saw it yourself. Until even you devolved to your teenage years, developing a deep hatred for a fellow colleague. Okay. Hatred was a strong word for the rivalry but the dislike you held for a certain English teacher was real. And right now, he was the reason you’ve had to delay a test for your students. The email you’d received less than 10 minutes before your class was due to start did nothing but add to the rage you felt.

“10th grade English stream A2 is running over. 7 kids still need to present their projects. They’ll be late for their next class. Sorry for the delay.” 

Attached was a list of students in the class who would be late. All unsurprisingly in your history class. Mr Jason Todd had no respect for you, no respect for your time and no respect for your subject.

As the two youngest teachers at the school, you were often paired together: volunteer work, lunch duty, after school workshops. It didn’t help that your two departments, history and english, also worked closely with one another. You hated that the kids adored him. You hated that the other teachers still adored him, especially after all his flakiness. You knew that he hadn’t appeared at over half the after school volunteer work you had to do, and that he likely had an active social or dating life that was the cause, something you missed since becoming a teacher. So maybe, the hatred was all just jealousy. NOT. As if you’d be so petty.

When you first met Jason, you liked him. Like really liked him. He was pretty and smart and you are oh so attracted to competence. You trapped him in literary discussions from the Brothers York to the Odyssey but he never minded. You threw a couple joint trip ideas around to go see a local Shakespeare play after Christmas or the early 19th century writers exhibition at the museum. He was also the rugby coach and his practice on the field coincided with your volleyball team’s in the hall so twice a week you tidied the equipment cupboard together. You were so certain the two of you would be fast friends. Maybe more. So when the librarian went on paternity leave in October and Jason needed help re-cataloguing the entire library onto the new system you volunteered. A chance to spend time with someone you liked and helping out the school: a win-win. What you hadn’t expected was that what should’ve been a couple hours at most after school for a week turned into a month-long endeavour for you. Only you. Jason would stay for at most 20 minutes before running away with some kind of excuse and vanishing for the rest of the night. By the third week, you’d started cataloguing during your lunch breaks to try speed up the process (and to avoid spending any time with him while your temper simmered under pleasantries). After that you distanced yourself. He clearly had no respect for your time and you by extension. No more literary discussions in the staff room. No more joint tidies in the equipment store and no more library cataloguing. Mr Jason Todd was the most unreliable colleague you had. The bane of your existence. And yet, everyone seems to forget this fact when he flashes a smile or starts talking about classic literature. But not you. No, you could see through his gorgeous face, past those good looks into the depths of his terrible personality. And unfortunately, the only person who agreed with you was a child.

“Todd irritates me far too often. I put in a request at the start of the year that I would not be in any of his classes.” Damian states matter of factly. The two of you were sat in your classroom eating lunch. The youngest Wayne opting to spend time surrounded by history displays instead of braving the lunch hall and eating alone. And, as the teacher, it was your responsibility to encourage him to make friends. After the two of you bitch about Jason of course. 

“I wish I could put in a request to stop seeing him in the staff room. But no, he wanders in with his fancy books and his fancy teas-”

“Those would be Pennyworth’s” He confirms.

“-Flashes a smile and expects me to be nice to him after how flakey he’s been. Can you believe it?”

Damian swallows a bite of his sandwich and nods solemnly. “I can.”

“He’s incredibly unreliable. I mean how do people give him any responsibility after this?” Your arms gesturing wildly.

“Perhaps this is weaponised incompetence. I always say to Father that he is too incompetent for his job.” Damian suggests, shaking his head. “But Father says that he is one of the most competent people he knows”

It’s not too hard to be competent in front of ‘Brucie’ Wayne. But you don’t tell Damian that.

“No, he's definitely competent enough. I know he’s incredibly intelligent and I sat in for one of his classes. He clearly just has zero time management skills.”

“And he lacks respect.”

“And he lacks respect!” You shout, then realise you should probably calm down and sheepishly rub the back of your neck. Although it seems that Damian hadn’t cared about your outburst.

“I am the blood son, he should at least be respectful to the rightful heir. But no, he and Grayson make a habit of tossing me about like a basketball.”

That sounds quite sweet to you, that Damian’s older brothers treat him so nicely and the disagreement must show on your face because Damian scoffs.

“Pennyworth tells me it’s ‘Sibling Bonding’. I do not wish to think of those two imbeciles as related to me.”

“The curse of being the youngest.” you offer in response, “Although it sounds like they want to be playful with you. That they want a good relationship.”

“I can’t believe you’re defending Todd right now.”

You huff at that, changing the subject. “Maybe you should make some other friends, that way you can spend less time with your brothers. Think of it as an escape plan.”

“Are you not my friend?” 

“Um well, yes, but I meant some kids your own age.”

“Ah. Father agrees. He says that Jon is not enough. That I need more than one friend. How many friends do you have? I will achieve the same.” Damian looks determined, which means you’re at least getting through to him. You, on the other hand, feel like a deer in headlights. Honestly you can count the number of friends you have from outside work on one hand. 

“I have lots of friends.” You brag. Damian does not look convinced. “How about you aim to make two more friends? Maybe you should join a club. Ms Song says you excel in her art classes. The art club meets on Tuesday lunchtimes and after school on a Wednesday.”

“I enjoy my lunches in the history room.”

“But this would work for both of us Damian. I start lunchtime duty next week on Tuesdays. I won’t be in my classroom.” A lie, of course, but you really want Damian to make some friends and be more social amongst the other students. You’re not sure who’s timetabled for Tuesday lunchtime duty but you’ll find a way to swap. And luckily, Damian doesn’t call your bluff.

“Fine. I shall join the art club. I suppose it is only fair that I do something uncomfortable as well.”

You have no idea what Damian is talking about but he’s joining the art club so that’s a win for you. He’s putting himself out there socially and that’s all you can hope for. The bell rings and Damian packs up his things, leaving you to get ready for your next class. 

By the end of the day you were still thinking about how much you hated Jason. It’s not like he was the only thing on your mind though. In all honesty the only thing you had learnt from the earlier half of your conversation with Damian is that you were acting like a 14 year old. Not to say neither of your grievances were invalid but you suppose you should maybe give Todd slightly more grace than you do currently. Especially if he already has one enemy in Damian. You think back to the incident this morning. Maybe it really was an accident. Sometimes projects and classes over run. You have to be flexible in teaching. You gather your materials together when the bell rings and your last class rushes out the door. 

“For those of you coming on the trip on Saturday, meet outside the school bright and early!” You call, “The coach leaves at 8.30!”

You sit back down and stretch your arms out as you log into your emails, sending one to the maths teacher asking to switch to her lunchtime duty on Tuesdays. She replies yes and you smile in success. Plan ‘help Damian make friends’ has finished stage one. Wonderful! Scanning the latest reminder from your principal, someone knocks at the door, drawing your attention away. You figure it might be Janice, one of the cleaners or Alejandro the receptionist. “Come in.” you say, and turn back to your emails.

“Where’s good to start setting up?” You would recognise that grating voice in a heartbeat. Jason Todd. You swivel so fast in your chair you almost fall out of it. 

“What are you doing here?” You try to sound as neutral and as unaffected by his very presence as possible. 

“Parents' evening. We’re sharing a classroom. The email went out three weeks ago and a reminder today?” You turn back to the monitor. The last unread email. Damn. You’d agreed to share a classroom when you were still on good terms. 

“I must’ve missed it. I’m ready to start setting up right now.” You smile through gritted teeth.

You were so wrong about giving grace. That man has done nothing but step on your toes all afternoon. That display should be changed, these books should be out, example essays from each subject should have no overlap. And the worst part is that he was right on most counts. But you don’t take lightly to being ordered around by a man who does nothing but infuriate you. In less than an hour the parents will be walking into your room and judging you and the school and you again and Jason still isn’t back. He better be in the toilet having a case of explosive diarrhoea or so help him god, the principal will have to scrape his remains off the teacher car park. It’s been 20 minutes. You suppose the classroom is prepped and ready for the parents so you could just wait anxiously by yourself. You suppose nothing was tethering him here when the displays were done as long as he made it back before the parents. You suppose he wouldn’t want to spend time with someone who had become so hostile and jagged towards him. Maybe he was talking with some of the other teachers, you reasoned. He hadn’t abandoned you again. Not after the promises about turning up and being here. And certainly not after the principal’s second reminder email that seemed more like a warning. Perhaps you should go see if any other teachers needed help last minute as well. To keep your mind busy and away from the failure Jason was setting you up for. You lock your classroom and walk towards the art room.

Jason was running late again. Dick had called in an SOS and he was closest. And to make up for it he figured it wouldn’t matter if he stopped to grab a coffee for you each as a peace offering. He did enjoy your company after all. He knew that your iciness these past few weeks had been well deserved. He didn’t mean to miss all the cataloguing but it was a particularly active week for Black Mask and Penguin and then the week after that he was recovering from a stab wound he’d gotten during a routine drug bust. Getting a second job had taken some getting used to. So he could hardly blame you for your hostility. He knew he deserved it. So in order to make amends, he grabbed you a drink from the cafe two blocks from the school before he joined you in your classroom, ready for parents evening. He signed back into the office before catching a glimpse at the time. Shit. You were going to be so angry if he was late again. So he sprinted like a madman, ignoring all his very new teacher instincts about running in corridors. As Jason rushed towards your classroom he didn't notice the art room door open and you step out, waving goodbye to Ms Song. 

The apology coffee ended up all over you. Seeping through your sweater and your shirt. Your nice, white shirt, ironed and pressed for parents' evening. You take a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to-” Jason starts.

“It's okay Jason, really.” You swallow and turn to keep walking to your class. You were trying not to lose it. Not to cry or yell, when parents could walk through the door at any moment. Jason trailed behind you. When you walk into your classroom he calls your name. 

“What?” You snap. You have run out of patience and out of grace for him. He takes off his knit jumper, passing it to you.

“It’ll help cover the stain.”

“It’ll be weird though won’t it?” You question, eyebrow raised. You knew exactly what the staff room would sound like on Monday if anyone saw you. 

“Is that worse than letting the principal see you talking to parents covered in coffee?”

You don’t reply. He was right, per usual. You take the jumper, unenthusiastically and pull it on. It smells like him. Not that it would mean anything to you of course, it’s just a smell. It has absolutely zero effect on you. Jason was also not faring too well. Seeing you in his jumper was quite endearing. But it had no effect on him either. Everyone looked good in knit. Thankfully, you both hear the parents walking around the corridors and are able to break the awkwardness. 

“Ready to go?” He asks.

“People will like history way better than English.” You promise in response, looking at your display on ancient civilisations, matching your 9th grade class’s current topic. The bright colours and big posters were sure to catch everyone’s eyes.

Jason smirks, “More people like Shakespeare than you think.” He references his own display: a large, badly drawn, picture of Shakespeare with literary technique thought bubbles surrounding him. You roll your eyes, desperately trying to stop any trace of a smile. You were still angry at him. But right now, the parents need your attention.

The two of you finally finished the evening. It had been taxing, no thanks to your revived rivalry. You spent the entire evening one-upping each other to parents, as subtle as possible of course. When the principal had checked in on your pair, you were sweet as saints. No matter how much you disliked the man, even you couldn't deny how well you worked together. He apologised multiple times about the coffee. He really did feel bad about it all. The spill really was an accident. He also apologised for his flakiness, but gave no explanation as to why he had abandoned you for weeks on end. You found no reasonable explanation incredibly hard to believe. So you still didn’t trust him. 

When the final parents left and the two of you began the tedious task of tidying, you walked up to him. “Just because we’ve worked well together tonight does not mean I forgive you. I know you’ve said sorry but until you prove it I don’t believe you.” You used your teacher voice but kept it low enough that the few listening ears wouldn’t have the chance for any gossip. Jason nods, gulping. You continue to work in silence. When the two of you finished packing everything away, highly efficiently you might add, you knew you ought to talk to Jason about Damian. No matter how much his brother disliked him, you knew you needed to talk to him about Damian. You wanted his family to encourage his creativity as both an outlet and a means to relax and socialise. You casually leant against a desk and spoke up. 

“This might be too personal-” Jason perked up at your voice. “-but I was wondering if you could ask your family to encourage Damian’s art and creativity. I’m aware he doesn’t really have many friends-” Jason scoffs and you stare him down. He was a grown man. He needed to act like one.

Jason breaks the silence, “He has one friend, Jon. He lives in Metropolis. They see each other pretty regularly.” Jason shrugs. “Does he really need more?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You need to think like a teacher. Stop looking at him like your kid brother and see him as a child having trouble connecting with his peers. I want him to have someone to talk to while at school. Someone who is not me. And not you.” You add, even though you know Damian likely ignores his entire existence. “I’ve asked him to join the art club and go on Tuesday lunchtimes. I’m sure Ms Song has told you about how talented he is.”

“She hasn’t. You’re the only teacher who knows we’re related.” Jason shrugs again. His nonchalance was getting on your nerves. 

“What?”

“The school board and principal know, obviously. But we thought it would be better that his peers didn’t. We didn’t want him being accused of favouritism.” You suppose that makes sense. That could have isolated him further. Jason stepped towards you. “And you only know because of your bitching sessions.” Your eyes widen. “Yeah I know about those.” Jason taunts. 

This man. The nerve! And after you had graciously half-forgiven him. Surely Damian had not spilled the beans to his asshole brother. No. Jason probably found out by spying or some very nefarious plot. Why would he care anyway? Everyone else at this stupid school adored him. You were indulging his kid brother and helping him talk about his feelings. You were not in the wrong here. Jason was. And he was also far too close to you now. You don’t even know when he got so close. So close to one another that you could see every freckle. Every scar. Every pore on his gorgeous face. You were too close. And you knew you were flushing. You felt so hot. FROM REVITALISED LOATHING AND HATRED OF COURSE. Not from embarrassment. Or any other emotion. You steel your eyes. He would not know how much he affected you. Stupid smirking men do not get to win. You stand up straight and look him eye to eye. “Encourage Damian’s creativity. Your brother deserves more friends.” You dodge past Jason and grab your bag from under your desk. You motion for him to grab his shit. He does so and walks out, heading straight for the office to leave. Allowing you to lock up your classroom by yourself, in the empty school, not thinking about how close the two of you had been. Never thinking about his eyes or his hair or his lips. Peeling off his jumper and staring down the ugly brown coffee stain on your shirt, only thinking about the ways Jason had wronged you.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[jackiespurnell]

thinking about you baby (no crash au jackie taylor x fem reader headcanons - requested)

summary: the yellowjackets made it to nationals. you're on the opposing team. and jackie wants you. really badly.

tw: masturbation, sexual fantasies

────୨ৎ────────

okay, so jackie knows that falling for a member of the competing team was a terrible idea 

but it’s not her fault that you’re so pretty!

there was a dinner party organized for the two teams the night before nationals

and while jackie was still 100% focused on winning tomorrow

she thought it couldn’t hurt to get to know some of the other players 

and you were one of those players 

you had on really tight jeans and a low cut tank top that did amazing things for your breasts

in that moment, jackie had half a mind just to reach out and touch them

which was a bad idea

even she knows that

but she really wanted to

at first, the two of you just started talking a little bit, nothing serious

you ended up in the seat next to her, casually twirling your hair and laughing at her jokes

and all she could do was smile and laugh along

(and ignore the fact that she wishes she was the one twirling your hair)

get it together she told herself she’s literally your competition. bad idea

after dinner, some of the yellowjackets went out to get ice cream

so of course jackie thought to invite you along

and while the other girls were very obviously against this, she really couldn’t care less

sue her for liking you!!

you were just so cool and funny and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want you

and besides, the mental image of you sucking on an ice cream cone?

well, it was way too hot to pass up on seeing the real thing

“yo, jackie, why did exactly did we bring the competition along” tai had pulled her aside

“come on taissa, it's not that big of deal!!”

“actually, it kind of is.”

whatever. they wouldn’t understand.

once they got back to the hotel, jackie invited you inside of her hotel room

(okay, yes, she was sharing with shauna but it’s not like shauna would mind)

unfortunately for jackie, you declined

something about wanting to get to bed early for the big game tomorrow

and fine, okay that made sense

jackie should probably be more focused on the game as well instead of some girl she just met a couple of hours ago

but still

she couldn’t help but feel like you rejected her

which is not at all what happened

except it kind of is just what happened

jackie sighs, flopping down on her bed

on the bright side, she did get your number

but when she checked her messages, you hadn’t sent her a damn thing

and her stubborn ass was not about to text first

then she got a great (read: terrible) idea

she looked around, her roommate and best friend was nowhere in sight…

now jackie was not big on masturbation

maybe did it three or four times in all seventeen years of her life

but you just looked so fucking pretty tonight…

so she slides a hand down her pants and envisioned you in her head

and oh what a pretty vision she conjured up

she shut her eyes tight and rubbed a little bit on her clit, not too hard yet

she thought about you perched on her lap

your thighs wrapped around her hips

her hands would roam all around your body, unable to keep to herself

“fuck” she murmured quietly, pushing her fingers farther into her pussy

she thought about you on your knees

your hair would be a mess, your pretty eyes staring back up at her

she touches herself imagining it’s you touching her instead

she imagines your long, pretty fingers playing with her pussy

jackie wonders if you’d be a tease

if you’d take your slow time with her while she cries out in arousal

or if you’d be quick to the point

and have her climaxing in no point

honestly

jackie isn’t entirely sure which one she’d want more

but it doesn’t really matter to her, cause she just wants you in any way she could have you

“fuck baby” she lets out a loud moan and she knows she should probably try and be quieter, especially with you right down the hall

but how could anyone except her to be silent

especially with all those thoughts of you still floating around in her head

she wonders what you have on underneath your tight clothes

she pictured pretty lace panties and a matching bra

jackie would like to run her hands over the pretty designs, feeling you up

but she knows damn well she’d be too impatient

and just rip off all your clothes

just the thought of getting to see you all gorgeous and naked in front of her was enough to send her over the edge

and let’s just say she had the best orgasm of her life, 

just on command, she gets a notification from her phone

and its a text!!! from you!!!

“having fun in there?” you text

“damn, was i that loud?” jackie responds, a little bit turned on by your casualness

“yeah, you were. what were you thinking about?”

now, jackie was not one to be forward about these kind of things

but a little impulsivity never hurt anyone…right?

so she answers your question with all the naturalness in the world:

“i was thinking about you”

────୨ৎ────────

[faerybella219]

First night at Gale's Tower

@desertharper 's request

Oh, I just read yours the other night on AO3, great job! Could I possibly get Gal and a female elven sorcerer Tav post-game the night they arrive home to his tower? NSFW/SFW, your choice. I just love post-game interactions for the good endings. :)

Fun fact: I play BG3 on Xbox and I started on my old Microsoft account. For some reason, I got logged out/ got “hacked?” and had to delete my account with 200+ hours… I was at the Netherbrain guys!!! So I haven’t finished the game yet but I also love domestic post-game fics. My Bard R! Durge, Vivienne, (who I have posted on here)  is my current run to the finish. In act 3 once again! Anyway, here ya go. It’s like half headcanon half fiction. 

It is still a shock to both of your systems that you’re actually alive. You have defeated the netherbrain against all odds- the old-fashioned way. With swords, spells, and sweat. 

First, we all know Gale’s need to impress you. I imagine him trying to plan a seamless moving day- maybe casting a protective spell over your furniture/ items while they’re being moved into his tower. I can also see him fretting about his various delicate magical artifacts, which the movers seem to disregard! Much to his surprise, might he add, since his mother had suggested this company! Although he likely skips the movers altogether and has his simulacrums move you two in. Some jobs are better done yourself. 

While his simulacrums bring in your boxes/chests of your belongings, they don’t unpack them. He respects your privacy and knows you may be particular about your things. 

I can see things happening quickly after his proposal. The day you move in may be the same day you see his tower (haha) in person for the first time- your new home. 

You can’t help but be overwhelmed by a feeling similar to deja vu. It’s surreal and sort of familiar. You’ve technically been here before. Gale brought you here through the weave while on the road, and you seem magnetically drawn to the balcony. You remember sitting on this very balcony in the weave. Waterdeep’s ocean glitters before you, and you get lost staring into the soothing waves. 

Gale puts his head on the top of yours. His hands rest on the railing on either side of you. He buries his nose in your hair and pulls you close to him from behind. It’s finally happening. It’s finally real. The peace you feel in this moment- hopeful, content, and unbelieving- it’s what makes your journey worth it. 

Turning around in his embrace, you hug him too tight and he makes a groan of strain and laughter. His classic old man noises. You could get used to those.  

Taking his face in your hands, you see joy brimming in his eyes. The way he looks at you makes your heart swell. Gale Dekarios- the wizard of intentionally limited renown is all yours for years to come.

He will likely insist unpacking can wait, it’s your first night together in your new home.

I have no doubt he will take you on a tour of the place, including special spaces he has saved for you/ your interests. You like to craft/crochet/sew? He has a craft room set up. What is his is yours. He knows you will handle his artifacts with care and if you are a sorcerer he will encourage you to bring yours and combine your collection. He has a section of his library saved for whatever literature you might want to add, and a section of what he recommends for you specifically- available for you to pick up at any time. 

Overenthusiastic is an understatement. But he tries to play it lighthearted to not overwhelm you. 

You cook dinner together in your new kitchen. You kiss in your new kitchen. He’s not a good dancer but is so overjoyed by you being here with him that he brings you close to sway. 

When it’s time for bed you notice he ordered a second nightstand for your side of the bed. In the drawer is something special and thoughtful, whether it's a chocolate you like or a book. Maybe it’s a solvent for some ailment that has been bothering you. He will remind you to put it on every night. 

I can see the night being with or without sex. I can picture him lying in bed and staring into your eyes, just treasuring your presence in his bed. There will be a thousand nights in the future for sex. Although, I can see the night needing a physical commemoration as well! It all depends on what your vibe is.

When you wake, you have tender good mornings with sleepy, rasping voices. He pulls you close, onto his chest as he praises the rest of your days together. He cooks you breakfast, and you two spend the rest of your second day unpacking your belongings and creating your shared home. 

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Pure passion and savoring each other. The sex is emotional and slow. 

Tonight marks the rest of your lives coexisting and living together. You’re having milestone sex. This is no quickie. This is body worship, treasuring each other’s lives, and pure love and devotion. 

You kiss until your lips feel plump, your tongues tangle until you’re wet. Only when you’re squirming does he move south.

Gale uses every kiss as a landmark. He kisses your forehead, cheeks, down your neck- his hands are grasping and caressing anywhere he can reach. 

His hold on you is strong. Hands grip your waist as he devours you. He doesn’t want it to end. He teases you until you beg for release, and once you orgasm you can’t stop. He doesn’t let you get away with less than 3 before the night ends. 

When he fucks you it's languid and deep. His hard cock drags against your walls in a pull so delicious it's torture. Slow tenderness eventually turns to rapid passion as he gives in to his desires. 

You two are moaning and crying out into the night air as he pounds into you. Your grip on him is tight as your mouths and hips move in synch. 

You wake up with little marks over your chest, although you never remember him being rough. 

[vevobly]

u know who god yellowjackets reactions to reader overworking themselves over school, attending despite becoming sick and having to rest at home later cuz of it? 🥺

Yellowjackets And Overworked Sick Reader Headcanons!

A/N: Yandere Nat anon, is that you again? 😭

Jackie Taylor:

Jackie would be concerned and frustrated at the same time — “Why didn’t you just take a break earlier? You’re going to make yourself worse!” She’d show up with soup and magazines at your house, treating the day with you as if it's a mini spa day while she helps you recover.

“You’re not allowed to do anything school related until you’re better” She’d insist you just lay down and rest. Jackie would also brag about how she knew you needed to slow down and how she saw this coming from a mile away — “See? I told you this would happen”

Shauna Shipman:

Shauna would understand your determination to get work done but also scold you gently for the fact you overworked yourself — “You need to take care of yourself. What’s the point of getting everything done if you’re too sick to enjoy it?” She’d probably take over some of your schoolwork and help organize your notes.

While you're resting, of course! “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got this” — She’d just quietly dote on you, making sure you had everything you needed without making a big fuss about it.

Taissa Turner:

Tai is no better, actually. She's the same as Shauna, the difference is that she would be very firm about setting boundaries for your own health — “You’re amazing, but you’re no good to anyone if you burn yourself out” She would tell you.

She’d sit you down with this stern but caring look on her face and make sure you stayed in bed no matter what, getting enough rest for your body. Taissa would help you catch up on schoolwork once you felt better but only after you’d fully rested — “I’ll help you get back on track, but only if you promise to listen to me next time”

Van Palmer:

Van would tease you at first about it — “Look at you, trying to be a hero and doing all the things by yourself. How’s that working out for you now?” But she’d quickly switch to full-on caretaker mode. Bringing you snacks, drinks, and maybe even some stolen VHS tapes to cheer you up.

“You’re not allowed to overdo it like this again, okay? I’m serious, I’ll tie you to the couch if I have to” — She’d check in constantly on you to make sure you were actually resting and not pretending that you were while sneaking in to do some schoolwork behind her back.

Natalie Scatorccio:

Nat would be worried but try to play it cool — “You’re kind of an idiot for pushing yourself that hard, you know?” She would tell you, half-joking. She’d just quietly take care of you in her own way, showing up with your favorite junk food or music to make you feel better.

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, least of all me, you know?” — She would tell you, her tone softer than usual. If you EVEN tried to work while resting, she would steal your books and notes. Hold them hostage until you agree to just relax.

Lottie Matthews:

Lottie would be deeply concerned and very nurturing — “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard! I could feel it” She would tell you. Lottie kinda has this second sense about you. Whenever something bad happened to you, she'd have this gut feeling about it.

She would bring you herbal teas, blankets, and maybe even a crystal or two. Feeling like they’d help you heal faster somehow — “Your body is telling you to rest, and you need to listen to it” She would say to you softly, brushing a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. She'd be with you for hours, just caring for you.

Laura Lee:

Laura Lee would give you a real scolding about it for days — “You know, god doesn’t want us to neglect our health like this” She would say gently, handing you a glass of water and insisting you lie down. She would read you bible passages about rest and self-care, trying to make you see the importance of those two.

She would also pray for your recovery. And besides that, she would bring a bunch of food that she thinks would help you get better somehow. Fruits, vegetables, soup, and whatever food you name it out there that helps sick people recover faster!

Misty Quigley:

Misty would be over the top with her concern — “Oh no, you’re sick! I told you this would happen” I am not kidding, the girl would bring over a fully stocked first aid kit and monitor your every move like a hyper vigilant nurse or an eagle on high alert for prey.

“You’re not doing anything except getting better. Doctor’s orders!” — Misty would make a huge fuss about taking care of you, probably annoying you a little bit because of it. But you know, her enthusiasm would make it very impossible to be mad at her. I mean, she's just caring for you, isn't she?

PS: I got sick right after finishing this— Gosh forbid the country I live in chooses an appropriate weather for once, it's either a desert here or a storm.

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine one-shot "Series Wrap" (Rated G)

Summary:

After six years of playing husbands on TV, Kurt and Blaine are about to go their separate ways... but neither of them wants to.

Notes:

Written for the December Klaine Fanworks Challenge prompts fixture, challenge, feeling, and belong. (1,712 words)

Read on AO3.

"Can you believe it's been six years?"

Blaine starts small talk as his co-star triple-checks his vanity, ensuring he doesn't leave anything behind. At this point, Blaine is convinced that Kurt is stalling. He'd emptied the drawers completely the first time, opened them till they were practically falling out, grabbed up everything double-fisted (even stuff Blaine knows belongs to the studio), and dropped it into his duffel. The only thing Blaine can see when Kurt opens the drawers this time is a few hairs and some grey lint. Kurt stops and stares at it, and Blaine makes a private bet on whether or not Kurt plans to take that, too.

"I thought it would never end," Kurt mutters, sweeping through the empty space with his hand, then shutting the drawers carefully. He zips up his bag and sets it on the squat stool he has sat on daily since he auditioned for this role.

A role he is leaving behind him, today of all days.

His thirtieth birthday.

A milestone he had been happy to overlook but can't ignore now because of this.

"Harsh." Blaine pouts, but he's only joking. He doesn't take Kurt's grumbling personally. Blaine knows Kurt is dealing with demons he hasn't told Blaine about yet.

Blaine is willing to wait for introductions.

He circles behind Kurt, stopping at the far end of the vanity, and leans against it. That's Blaine's spot. He would stand there while Kurt got his makeup done: shot the shit with him, distracted him, joked with him, ran lines with him. He never pulled up a chair, content to lean his rear against the wood.

Kurt examined it one day when he noticed offhandedly that the color had faded. He smiled when he saw a smooth spot where the pockets of Blaine's jeans had worn down the finish.

"Our audience really seemed to like us, didn't they?"

Blaine smiles. This was Kurt's big worry from day one. Not for himself. He had faith in his acting abilities. More importantly, he knew he couldn't please everyone. He made peace with that. But he wanted to know that he and Blaine were doing their characters justice, portraying people that tadpole gays could look up to and older queers would be proud to count as representation.

"They loved us," Blaine assures him. "Of course, when you consider the fact that there were so few shows on TV featuring a married gay couple, the bar was set kind of low."

Kurt shoots Blaine a sarcastic smirk. "Nice."

"Hey. You guys almost done in there?"

Kurt and Blaine turn toward a voice coming from the rear double doors and spot Tony, the security guard, strolling their way. Kurt bites his lower lip, and Blaine smiles sheepishly. Not half an hour ago, Kurt commented that they had been on the show for so long that they knew Tony back when he had hair.    

"Yeah, Tony," Blaine says. "Just five more minutes?"

Tony responds with a nod and a wave, then retreats out the door. He's not a man of many words, but Blaine was sure he saw the man getting misty-eyed when they arrived.

"I'm heading to DiGazio's for lunch," Blaine says. "Say goodbye to this thing properly. You wanna come? My treat." Blaine bumps Kurt's shoulder lightly with his fist. "I'll get you a slice of cake."

"Sure. That sounds...that sounds great."

Blaine tilts his chin when Kurt sniffs, moving to get a better look at Kurt's eyes. They're clouded, memories piling up, obscuring the here and now. But there's something else there, too, furrowing Kurt's brow and causing his upper lip to twitch slightly. "What's wrong, Kurt? You look close to tears."

Kurt nods, lost in his thoughts, and Blaine feels like he has interrupted a conversation Kurt was having with himself, one that hadn't yet come to a resolution. He takes a breath in and exhales for a long time. "I'm thinking about the future. The challenges ahead. What my life is going to look like."

"And?" Blaine inches closer, curious about Kurt's conclusion, hoping it might help him resolve his own conundrum.

Kurt pins his gaze to his reflection. He looks so forlorn that Blaine isn't sure he'll continue. "What do I do now?"

Blaine feels that question deep in his soul. "Well, you stand up, and you come with me for a bite."

"That's not what I mean."

"I know," Blaine sighs. He doesn't have an answer. He wishes he did. He's struggling with the same problem, asking himself the same thing all morning. He hasn't come up with a satisfactory answer. So he offers Kurt a sympathetic shrug and tells him what he's been telling himself. "You move on, I guess. Your agent told my agent that studios are clamoring for you. You've had three offers already, haven't you?"

"But this show has been my life for so long. I'm not one to hold on to a character with white knuckles, but I finally started to feel like we belonged. I'm not eager to let that feeling go. Does that make sense?"

"It does," Blaine admits. It's one thing performing in mainstream shows. But acting in something considered niche and turning it into a success? That's lightning in a bottle.

"I'm not saying we should drag this show out any longer. We put the Helversons to bed, and I'm content with how it was done, but I'm leaving so much behind. This studio set is more my home than my apartment. Then there's Jeremiah and Caty. Those are our babies! They've been with us since birth! We've held them, fed them, burped them for the past two years, the formidable years of their lives! And then there's...there's you..." Kurt's speech stumbles to a halt. Blaine startles at the sudden change.

"What...what about me?" he asks, concern etched on his face. That concern, Blaine's brows drawn together above the bridge of his nose and his forehead creased with worry, is the only reason Kurt continues.

"I...I don't know how to do anything but be your husband. You have been a fixture in my life. One I fooled myself into believing would be permanent. Because as ridiculous as it sounds, there came a point where I didn't see myself doing anything else for a good chunk of my career. And I was okay with that."

Blaine's response comes out in a whisper. He'd been holding his breath from the moment Kurt said he didn't know how to do anything but be Blaine's husband. "It's not ridiculous. I feel the same."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

They fall silent around those confessions. Blaine's heart beats inside his chest like a clock ticking, reminding him they don't have all day in here. Eventually, Tony will return, and the two of them will have to leave. This moment may not come around for them again. But first, Blaine needs to know if Kurt is saying what Blaine thinks he's saying?

There's only one way to find out.

And though Blaine has always been scared shitless of saying the wrong thing and losing Kurt forever, he jumps in with both feet. "Do you maybe want to try...being my boyfriend?"

Kurt looks at Blaine, confused. Then his eyes brighten, his face awash in relief. "Oh my God! You got the callback? That's fantastic! Why didn't you say so? Because I..."

"What?" Blaine puts up his hands to slow Kurt down. "No!" Kurt goes back to melancholic so quickly it gives Blaine whiplash, and he has to laugh because he knows he's screwing up. He can't seem to help himself. "I mean, yes, I did, but...what I mean is, would you like to be my boyfriend, but for real?"

For six years, their contracts encouraged them to socialize but forbade them to date. Both men were fine with that at the beginning. They hung out between takes to familiarize themselves with one another. They saw themselves becoming good friends but were sure they could maintain a professional relationship.

They never realized that they would get along like a house on fire.

Blaine and Kurt have been there for each other as much as any couple. When Kurt's father had his stroke, Blaine drove Kurt to and from the hospital at all hours, brought him his favorite lunch, made sure he got quiet when needed, and fended off his fans with official statements when Kurt didn't have the spoons to go out in public.

When Blaine needed his appendix removed, he confided in Kurt about his debilitating fear of hospitals. Kurt stayed by his side every second before and after surgery. He held Blaine's hand while he slept, organized his medications, filled out paperwork, and even helped Blaine bathe. They've dined together, vacationed together, gotten drunk together.

They've made it this far.

That's more than a lot of couples can say.

And besides, Blaine really wants to kiss him.

Blaine has kissed Kurt goodbye after every day of shooting, but the studio only cleared them for the chastest pecks in public.

A day hasn't gone by that Blaine hasn't imagined how fantastic kissing Kurt would feel or holding him tight and with abandon.

"How...how do you mean?" Kurt asks, breaking from his stupor.

"I mean you and me, being a couple in the real world. We have been so fortunate, Kurt. We had an opportunity that other people rarely get. We met, became friends, fell in love, got married, adopted children, but in front of an audience. And now that that's done, we can do it all over again if we want, but for us this time."

Kurt nods again, but this time, he looks happier. Resolute. "How very Whatever Dreams May Come of you." He reaches a hand for Blaine's, and Blaine takes it on instinct, the way he has hundreds of times. Blaine tugs tentatively, and Kurt moves closer, sliding into his arms.

"What do you say?" Blaine asks. "We can start with lunch today, then dinner tomorrow, and after that, who knows?"

"I do." Kurt loops his arms around Blaine's neck and rests their foreheads together. There they stand, truly connected for the first time ever after six years of marriage. "With any luck, we live happily ever after for a second time."

[orlastarburst]

[Radio broadcast to all of hawkins]

*TV starts on*

Bald mike nation, it's me, orlastarburst.

As you can hopefully hear, I am not infected right now.

You're probably really confused as I was giving secret codes and messages, not even hours ago, making you believe I was a soldier for the MMM, and for a while í ẃ᧠- - sorry , but I managed to fight off the virus, and you're probably wondering why?

To simplify it, the MMM were stalking me, they sent me messages, watched my house, and ate my trash (I can't prove this, but trust me). At first I didn't realise what was going on,,, before it was too late.

They got my brother first.

They tried to recruit him, and he declined.

They didn't like that.

He-he was so brave. . . God. .

They- - They infected him, turned him into that THING

I knew something was wrong, they cut my Internet, so I didn't get @dynamicccsworld 's warning. I didn't know.

*car honk in distance*

I locked my brother in the basement where we played D&D, I had to save him.

I contacted the MMM and they proposed a deal.

I save my brother, but in return. . . . I take his place and help spread the disease for the queen

I lied to you guys.

I posted as normal, I commented on byler posts, but slowly, I was turning into one of them.

The MMM kept their promise, my brother came back the next evening. But I was gone.

I told him to run, to get to Lovers Lake, and find help. I haven't heard from him since.

*car screeching*

The longer I was infected, the more I started to lose my mind (and bald). I couldn't talk, I could only oɓəy, and I did.

But something was different, I noticed I wasn't like the other infected, I still had a conscience.

My head was an internal battle, one half, my core byler, trying to fight of the MMM and the other half being a hopeless blank static.

It went on like that for a while, but soon, a new voice started to appear. He said his name was Professor Green.

At first, he spoke only in letters, the words lost in the void of my mind, but soon, I could hear what he was saying. He was repeating one sentence;

"Do you want to be my friend?"

*static*

He helped me a lot-

*glitch*

And He will help you.

*car beeping and swerve sound*

I- - I don't have much time but LISTEN to me.

You - *car noises get louder* you need to get to the arcade, that's where professor green is. He knows how to stop this-

*cars constantly honking*

I-It's it's LOVERS LAKE, all the byler truth has been gathered in the waters, it's pure byler shipping energy. IT repels the MMM, and is - as far as I know - the only safe place in Hawkins.

But they were one step ahead of us.

They told me about it when I was still fully infected, so I can't remember most of it

But i do remember that - - the MMM are building something, a weapon.

They're going to unleash it on judgement day, the 7th day.

It's power source is- -

[Brodcast interrupted my unknown cause]

"§ťöp ťĥį§"

[Reconnect]

-you can't let them WIN!

. . . Protect bald mike, find professor green and please . . . If you find him, keep my brother safe.

*background noise gets loader and screams can be heard*

*teary voice* I can't go on this journey with you. They're on to me, they've found me again.

It was an honour standing by your side in the bald Mike nation.

Being crazy together with you guys has been the best thing I've ever done.

*window breaks*

Goodbye byler nation, I hope I made byler proud.

*gun shot*

*car crashes*

[Brodcast ended]

[superdorf1]

Sword of the day (1/20/2025): Medieval training sword by Cold Steel

I'd like to preface this particular post with a disclaimer: this is a terrible training sword. It's overbuilt, awkwardly constructed, too stiff and pointy for safe thrusting, and it both handles and hits like an old minivan. You could break bones with this thing. There are better products out there, and if you're strapped for money you can even find safer options in a similar price point. The only decent use case I can think of for this thing is as an improvised self-defense tool - even then, you might as well just carry a heavy cane or something.

That said... well, I wasn't always so safety-conscious. The Cold Steel trainer was, for better or worse, my first "proper" sword.

I did a lot of swordfighting as a kid. I'd play at swords with anyone who was willing: siblings, family friends, whoever. To this end, we had a lot of toy swords kicking around the house, of various shapes and materials: wooden bokken, foam boffers, cheap NERF swords, and the like. Less-obvious sword substitutes saw their moments in the sun too, like Wiffle bats and reflector sticks (the latter made for an especially evocative wizard staff.) Heck, regular sticks from the woods got plenty of use as well.

Various objects that saw regular combat use in our front yard. The best time we had with these sword-like objects was spent, not in direct combat, but in a kind of shared storytelling experience: we would fight imaginary enemies of every kind, cutting down demons and robots in worlds of our own devising. We called these collective endeavors "games," but the rules were implicit, the scope enormous, and the creative process as natural as air. I could tell you very little now of the settings we devised, save that they invariably contained an immense battle between good and evil: a small band of heroes, thrown again and again against powers of primordial gloom. We spent many hours this way. I suspect I would see the stories we told as prosaic now. I'll never forget the emotions they imparted. We also fought, a lot. I was the oldest, and a bit of a bully; I enjoyed feeling strong. I'd swordfight anyone brave enough to try me. We went full force with the weapons available to us, and found pretty regularly that our toys simply weren't built to handle the strain: sticks broke, foam swords chipped, wiffle bats dented. I wanted something stronger, more "real," purpose-built for sparring. We looked around on Amazon for awhile, and stumbled on the Cold Steel polypropylene swords.

Me and my sibling each got to pick a sword. They picked this gladius.

I'll say this about Cold Steel: when they call their trainers "virtually unbreakable," they mean it. Polypropylene is a very dense and stiff plastic, and these trainers use a lot of it - they're solid all the way through. We beat these swords on trees, rocks, other sparring weapons, and anything else we could think of. Beyond a couple scuff marks, the only way I was able to damage them at all was with a saw. (I'll get to that in a moment.)

Eager to finally have a "real sword," I set about unearthing the necessary research materials to best use it. I'd taken some martial arts in middle school, and now I wanted to learn to swordfight properly - the way knights did. I found a website from 2001 that claimed to offer just that. Their membership fees were prohibitive, but I could take inspiration from the few resources they did offer for free: most importantly, an old translation of Sigmund Ringeck's Commentaries on Johann Liechtenauer's Fechtbuch, c. 1440. This particular historical manual was dedicated to the use of the longsword. I, not realizing I would need the (slightly more expensive) hand-and-a-half trainer, only had an arming sword. Undeterred, I set about interpreting the Master Strikes.

A grip intended for one-handed use

My endeavors were doomed from the start. The clunky arming sword, already difficult to swing about with one hand on account of its complete lack of balance, was downright uncomfortable to wield with two. The grip was far too short; the wheel pommel dug into my palm if I tried to grab it with my left hand. I didn't have the resources to purchase another sword, and the training tool I had was unacceptable. Drastic measures were in order. The house we lived in at the time was quite large, and it contained, among other amenities, an impressive basement. Half of the basement was done up with drywall and proper flooring, suitable for residential use; the other half was half-lit pipes and bare concrete, the bones of the house visible to anyone who cared to venture down. In the back of this skeletal tunnel was a good-sized plywood table with a vise, furnished with a couple shelves on the walls above. This was our workshop. The workbench was a mess of scattered screws, wood scraps and hand tools, perfect for tinkering and general foolishness. We were permitted to use this space at our leisure, and I applied myself there to the best of my abilities: pounding nails and carving wooden knives, most projects left incomplete, their purpose forgotten, like a caveman's laboratory. This was the space I employed for my latest ambitions. The first thing was to take off that horrible wheel pommel. Locking the sword into the table vise, I hacked away at it with a cheap Japanese hand saw, lopping off the sides of the pommel and squaring it off as best I could. Now the exposed length of plastic could serve as part of the grip, giving me more room for two-handed use. Without a pommel, however, my hand would just slip off the stub. Mere amputation was insufficient. A prosthetic was needed. I sawed off a chunk of pressure-treated lumber from a convenient scrap, roughly the size I wanted. This done, I hacked the chunk down to a crude imitation of a longsword pommel. Finally I put a hole in the exposed stump of my sword with a hand drill, drilled a similar hole through the new pommel, and drove a screw through pommel and sword hilt both. (A screw? A nail? I don't recall.) The operation was complete. I could now learn longsword as the German masters intended.

An approximate rendition of my modifications The operation was, for a time, a success. I could now swing my sword at the empty birdhouse in the front yard, and put both of my hands on the grip instead of just one! My long-term prospects in the field of swordplay, however, were nevertheless doomed. The Cold Steel trainers still had no concept of safety whatsoever, and for that matter, neither did we - we were fighting with no helmet, feeble hand protection, and a weapon almost purpose-built for damaging the skulls and fingers of everyone involved. My sibling, younger and more vulnerable than myself, soon lost any interest in facing me. At some point my hackjob of a pommel popped off the sword entirely, and I gave up the pursuit. I've made only small forays into European swordsmanship since then: I've picked up a couple more practice trainers (after significantly more research), but otherwise I haven't had the time or money to pursue the hobby farther. If I ever join a club in earnest, I'll be going into it with a lot more armchair knowledge (and a lot more caution) than I had in highschool... ...and if I ever have children myself someday, you can bet I won't be buying them swords from Cold Steel.

Total length: 39.5 in Blade length: 32.25 in Handle length: 7.25 in Weight: 29.3 oz Material: Polypropylene Point of balance: no

https://www.coldsteel.com/medieval-training-sword-waister