#why am I such a nerd for fluff
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lovscb97 ¡ 27 days ago
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tags: nerd!chan x cheerleader!fem!reader, angst angst angst, mentions of jealousy and self doubt, inner turmoil on y/n’s side (forgive my girl she’s trying her best), mentions of other idols (enhypen, aespa, stayc, etc), alcohol usage, more angst…, slight inclusion of depressive feelings and thoughts, confrontation, arguments, confessions, kissing, fluff, brief grinding/dry humping, oral (m. receiving), brief throat fucking, car sex, mentions of virginity loss, unprotected sex (plz don’t i beg), creampie, just sweet lovemaking, use of nicknames (baby, channie, pretty girl, etc), chan being a sweetheart (when is he not), etc
wc: 15.76k
add. notes: it is finally here!!! the long awaited pt. 2 of nerd!chan!!! thank u guys so much once more for all the love u gave to the first part i did Not expect it to gain that much traction to the point u guys wanted me to expand on the universe of it but i am grateful nonetheless <3 i’m also very sorry it took so long i just could not bring myself to write the whole thing in one sitting as it is decently long so thank u sm for waiting as well.. this fic is honestly my baby n while it was very frustrating to work on at times, i hope u all enjoy it n will give it lots of love for me :]
nerd!chan pt. 1 / nerd!chan headcannons / drabble #1
. . .
it’s been a few days since you last saw chan after your “encounter” in the locker room. granted how that might be primarily because you’ve been avoiding him like the plague ever since, but you suppose he also hasn’t done much to try and meet you. you’re not even sure why you’re doing this, and if you’re being honest, some part of it leaves a sense of dread lingering at the back of your mind, your thoughts swirling with what if’s that consist of wondering if he’s finally had enough after the way you walked out on him the previous time you guys were, err.. entangled, to say the least. but, you know; you know you’re not at liberty to feel this way, not when you’re the one who’s imposed these rules on yourself and whatever means of a relationship you’ve both got going on. it’s not your right to police how chan acts around you after you constantly push him away. you think it probably never was to begin with.
regardless of the consequences that you’ve reaped, you decided to forego the situation you’re stuck in and throw yourself into the one solution that always seems to find you when you’re rock bottom in the barrel— alcohol. your cheer girls had tried dragging you out once more to another party thrown by some guy called jake, and initially you’d declined, far too stuck in your own negativity to even consider going out and letting loose at this point, but karina insisted on you tagging along, practically yanking you to you guys’ shared dorm room and dolling you up in the cutest outfit possible that had even your low spirits lifting.
that is, until now.
you’d both arrived to the occasion half an hour prior to the incident, your friend basically pulling you in behind her and forcing you to socialise with people she knew even if all you contributed to the discussion was a small smile and greeting. however, at some point, you lose sight of her. it doesn’t alarm you much considering karina goes around on her own to do her thing a lot, so assuming she must be busy chatting it up with some guy, you shrug and make your way towards the kitchen to fix yourself a drink. and it’s when you’re in the middle of tossing back the red solo cup filled with bitter liquid and letting it burn as it goes down your throat, wincing despite the tinge of sweetness to it when it happens, no less when you see it—
chan.
but, not just chan, no no.
chan with another girl.
it’s immediate the way your hand which is gripping the beverage in it tightens on instinct, and you feel a surge of emotion wash over you that you can’t identify, or rather you don’t want to identify it. arrays of questions swirl in your mind at the sight in front of you, ranging from ‘what is he doing here after claiming he hates parties?’ to ‘did they come together?’. the last of your queries almost makes you want to throw up, the plausibility that chan was invited here by another woman leaving bile forming at the back of your throat. still, you pause momentarily to consider the possibility that this is a mere coincidence, that you’re just misunderstanding the scene playing out in front of you and that this is all a big joke and chan is going to turn around to leave at any point now.
but, then your eyes land on the way she caresses his arm, batting her eyelashes up at him and watching the way her actions cause his ears to tint red, the very same ears you’ve been responsible for making blush every occasion that you find yourselves together. and suddenly, it’s like everything in your world is spinning. the floor seems to be moving, the music fading out and everyone passing around becomes a blur, because your only focus is on chan.
your chan. your chan who isn’t yours.
it’s like he senses you looking at him too, because he stops mid-sentence out of the blue and turns his head in your direction, leaving your gazes to lock with each other’s. it has his eyes widening, and you don’t know whether that’s from simply seeing you or seeing the fact that you’re standing in the middle of the kitchen alone with trembling hands you hadn’t even noticed were shaking. you try so desperately to look away, to avert your stare from his brown orbs that seem to be swirling with something you can’t quite put your finger on, but it doesn’t work. he’s so.. captivating, dressed in casual clothes and his signature glasses that remain perched on the tip of his nose, the same nose you’ve kissed so many times in your heated state of affairs. you’ve always known chan is beautiful, though you’ve never admitted it, but something about today solidifies it in your mind even more, makes him look ever so mesmerising, ever so alluring, and ever so.. distant.
you feel like someone has dumped a cold bucket of water on top of your head when the last word resonates in your mind, and you somehow rip your eyes off of the boy standing across the room to avoid impulsively doing something you might regret, instead opting to go look for your friends. a cacophony of taunts torment your brain as you busy yourself in the futile task, varying from insults thrown against you for being so stupid to think this could ever work out to questions about why you’re doing this even if you don’t know the response to them, or rather you do but don’t want to answer them. you don’t know whether chan is still looking at or for you, and some sick, twisted part of you wishes he is, wishes that he’s so wrecked by the idea that he’s hurt you even though you have no right to feel that way.
allowing yourself one last glance to where he was previously situated to satisfy the lingering emotions inside, you turn around, confused when you don’t find him there until a loud voice calls out for him throughout the booming of the music in the room, making your head snap in its direction. it belongs to who you presume is his friend, changbin or whatever you recall from a study session turned to a late night conversation chan had initiated to get to know you better. he’s yelling something incoherent that you can’t make out through the noise levels of the house, and you’re about to shake your head and resume your previous activity when you notice chan being dragged onto the dance floor, no less by the girl who you’d found talking to him.
your heart instantly sinks into your chest at the picture in front of you, burning against your ribcage as the pounding in your head increases by the minute. chan’s smile is radiant, spread wide across his face as he tries to awkwardly mimic the gestures being made by everyone around him. if you were in a different predicament, you would’ve found it endearing regardless of whether you would’ve let yourself relish in that realisation or not internally, but right now, all you can focus on is the fact that it’s not you. it’s not you who’s making him laugh so bright, it’s not you who’s dragging your hands across his to place them on your waist, and it’s not you who’s captivated his attention in the moment, even if you so desperately wish it was.
“y/n?”
a voice drags you out of your mind, and you shake your head to find karina looking at you in worry, her hand coming up to gently place itself on your shoulder. she questions if you’re okay a second later, and you muster up a smile the best you can and nod, despite the churning in your stomach only growing worse at the existence of what you’d just witnessed a few meters away from you. “what’s up?” you decide to ask your friend instead, sensing the way she doesn’t seem to buy your response reassuring her you’re fine, but even so, she decides not to push you, instead pursing her lips and pointing her thumb behind her.
“heeseung and his friends are going to play a round of beer pong. wanna join them?” the last thing you want to do is indulge with other people, instead wishing you were cooped up under your blanket to wallow in your self misery all alone, but the way karina looks back at you with distress in her eyes, her pretty face contorted in concern for you only pushes you to put up a front, not wanting to alarm her any further. “yeah, let’s go. i wanna get wasted.” you grin with everything in you, and it seems to be enough with the way your friend beams back at you, taking your hand in hers before whisking you away to wherever the game is taking place. you still cast one last glance back behind your shoulder before she drags you away though, hoping to catch sight of chan once more, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
you think maybe that’s best for now.
. . .
it’s one in the afternoon when you wake up the next day, a dull throbbing present in your head as you clutch it with one hand, groggy eyes attempting to adjust to the light streaming through the barely drawn curtains of your dorm room. you slowly sit up and lean back against the pillow underneath that’s probably caught remnants of your makeup on it after last night, especially considering the fact that you hadn’t even bothered taking off the outfit you wore yesterday before crashing out in bed. giving yourself some time to get used to your every day surroundings, you take a peek over to the other side, noticing karina’s bed to be empty. she’d probably gone for classes, you think to yourself, cursing when you realise you had most definitely missed your own.
grabbing your phone off the nightstand, you unlock it, ready to shoot a text to your friends asking for any notes they’d taken in the lecture, only to find the messaging app already open. you scroll through your group chats in confusion, flicking through the several photos or videos people had taken and shared in hopes of remembering why you’d even left off on this. it wasn’t like you’d sent any embarrassing messages in them, the only evidence of your own responses being from two days ago. you try rack your brain for the last possible memory of last night, recalling yourself stumbling through the door and into bed, drinking with sieun and sunghoon during the game before that, and then opening your phone to record drunken voice notes to send to—
oh fuck.
“no, no, no, no, no, please.” you mumble to yourself in panic, eyes widening with horror as you frantically swipe out of the group chat threads and check your last sent texts. you flick furiously through the notifications in your phone, trying to find the one chat you’re looking for until the name you’re searching pops up. you close your eyes, covering your screen to try and calm down your nerves, praying to whatever entity is up there that your memory is mistaken and that you indeed did not do what you think you did. after a short minute, you take a deep breath, cracking your vision open as your fingers twitch. you hesitantly move your thumb that’s blocking your desired end goal out of the way to take a look at last, and—
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“shit!” you swear with a yell, tossing your phone aside in favour of cupping your face in your hands and screaming into them out of frustration. you hadn’t even bothered to listen to the voice notes knowing they’d just consist of spewed gibberish the same as the texts, and ultimately what makes this entire ordeal all the more worse is chan’s lack of a reply. rather, he’d left you on seen, the realisation of it dawning on you as you flop back in bed and roll to the side to curl yourself up into a ball as if it’d provide some sort of comfort, mindless thoughts rushing into your brain at the very same.
what does chan think of you now? what did he think of you when he got those texts? was he annoyed? did he want to cut you off forever and finally drop you for good? maybe he laughed about your pathetic attempts to gain back his attention with the girl you’d seen him with yesterday. the idea only makes you want to throw up, although you can’t tell if it’s because of that or your splitting hangover. so, in an effort to drown in your self pity anyways, you yank the covers of your blanket over your head, trying to lull yourself back to sleep now that you’ve already missed out on your attendance.
unfortunately, your attempts don’t last long, the device you’d flung to the edge of your bed ringing with your roommate’s call shortly after in which she scolds you for still not having woken up. you bite back the answer that threatens to escape you when she proceeds to go on a tangent on how this is probably because you’ve been looking so dull lately, not having it in yourself to open up to your closest friend about the fact that you’ve secretly suppressed all your innermost feelings about somebody outside your social circe in fear they’d rise to the surface and force you to do things you’d never do sober.
karina eventually ends her rant with urging you to come to the building at least to meet up for lunch, convincing you in your very much hungover state that you need something in your stomach, to which you begrudgingly agree. dragging yourself out of bed to put on some simple clothes and trudging outside the door in all your miserable glory is a task in itself, but you manage somehow. you can’t help but grumble to yourself as you parade the halls of the student accommodation with only one goal in mind— avoid chan at all cost.
fate, however, is not on your side, it seems.
because the minute you step out and about underneath the midday sun, your eyes fixated on the cobblestone path underneath your feet which leads to the university buildings located right outside the student housing, you stop dead in your tracks, stumbling upon a certain scene—
the certain scene in question being chan with his very same arm candy from yesterday.
your breath hitches in your throat at the sight, and it’s like you’re glued to the ground, unmoving as if you’ve turned static and become bound to the floor. chan doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet from your spot that’s metres away from him, too busy focusing on conversing with the girl to even look up and catch his surroundings. you wonder if that’s because she’s his girlfriend, or someone he’s interested in given the fact that he seems so engaged with her and how you’ve caught them together so many times by now (twice, actually, but in your head it seems like a much bigger number), and in all honesty, that just makes everything all the more worse.
you don’t even understand why you’re so upset about this. you wanted chan to not cling to you, or a better way of putting it instead is that you weren’t ready for him to do so. you wanted to save him the heartbreak that would come from becoming entangled with you, warning him right at the start implicitly in the way you ran from him that you weren’t going to share anything deeper than whatever you guys had. in some twisted way, you think maybe that was your idea of trying to be a good person when you knew you weren’t. even so, the fact that he could become attached to you alongside your lack of an ability to commit to you guys’ messed up relationship was terrifying. you were aware it would leave him hurt in the end, alone and stuck onto you, and that scared you in ways you’d never been.
it also scared you to think chan might see something more in you, might find something worth sticking around for; that in turn, he’d manage to change the perspective you have of yourself due to the fact that he was so.. so good. too good, maybe. because the crux of it all is that you two are from such different worlds, with different needs and different lives that just so happened to become mingled amongst each other. you found him by chance encounter, not having even known his name a few months back, and now you’re here, shamelessly tormented by the fact that the boy you didn’t want to hurt is unknowingly hurting you despite the fact that you have no right to be hurt by him. you knew from the start mixing up with someone like him didn’t make sense. it never would make sense. you’d always thought that these circumstances would be the cause of chan’s own downfall, that he was just running in a losing race.
oh, how the tables have turned, you think.
“see you around, channie.” you hear from the corner, the voice snapping you out of your inner dilemma in mere moments as you come to realise it belongs to ‘that’ girl. you think your heart rate physically spikes when you watch the way she winks at him, gently touching chan’s arm before brushing past him to walk away. part of you feels relieved that she’s gone, but another part of you can’t ignore how your stomach swirls in disgust at the way she behaves around him, or rather the way it flusters him in return. you don’t miss the burning red of chan’s ears or how he shakes his head to try recover out of it, especially not because of how it makes you feel disgusted. it’s so much so that in the midst of everything, you don’t even realise his head is springing up in your direction until his eyes are locked with yours once more, just like the night before.
white, coarse shock flashes through you, and you’d think your frozen body would finally listen when you see chan making his way over to you. instead, you stand there like an idiot, akin to a kicked puppy even with the way you’re sure your emotions are written clear as day on you. it’s only by the time that he’s almost face to face with you, an unreadable expressing playing on his face and the proximity of your bodies sending you reeling that you feel like you regain control over yourself, not daring to waste another second before you’re turning around on your heel and stepping away.
chan’s voice calls out for you in instant at your actions, and you desperately try to ignore the way your name sounds falling from his lips, swallowing a lump down in your throat that threatens to break the dam nearing explosion. it’s only when you hear his footsteps speed up and a warm hand grab your arm that you stop in place for what feels like the nth time this week, feeling like you can’t go on any further. you’re so tired of running, of detaching yourself from the situation and moving out of the picture that something in you just feels so defeated. so, you slowly turn around to meet his gaze again, heaving a breath that you don’t intend to come out of your mouth at the way he’s looking at you.
“sorry. um,” chan sighs, clearing his throat as he pushes back his glasses which are sliding off his nose. “hi?” he starts, not sure where to begin. you can tell he’s tense with the way he’s fiddling with his fingers and slightly tapping his sneaker clad foot, and you wish you could ease his nerves despite the fact that you’re equally as nervous, wishing you didn’t have to face him at all today, much less so soon. “i just, uh.. wanted to ask how you are.”
“‘m good.” you respond meekly, eyes falling on your feet, or the bushes, or the speck of dirt on the floor, or just fucking anywhere that wasn’t chan’s tender gaze which makes you feel messy and confusing feelings. “how are you?” you weakly offer, risking a glance at him as he nods and says the same, which only makes you feel like your heart is about to burst with the way he’s so concentrated on your face. his expression is still unreadable, and you’re not sure what’s burning through his mind right now, although if you had to take a wild guess, you’d think he’s probably wondering how the fuck he’s supposed to bring up your stupid behaviour, and it’s much to your dismay that your suspicions are confirmed with his next sentence.
“listen, i—“
“please ignore what happened. i was drunk, and it didn’t mean anything.” you quickly blurt out, cutting him off before he can say what he was going to. you’re not even sure if he was going to bring it up because you don’t give him the opportunity to do so in fear it’ll mortify you further than you already are, so much so that you don’t seem to notice the way the look in his eyes falls, that slight glimmer of hope dying down just as soon as it had appeared. “you can just leave it be, honestly.” you add on, the next words on your tongue slipping before you can stop them.
“i’m sure your girlfriend will be happier if you do that.”
it’s venomous, the tone that you speak in, sounding bitter and hurt despite the fact that you know you’re being petty. chan just blinks at you in return, opening his mouth, closing it and then opening it again as if he’s trying to find the right words to say. he doesn’t really know what to say, not when you’ve given him so much to process in so little time. “y/n,” he eventually lets out, and you have to physically shut your eyes to compose yourself from the way he sounds so soft as he addresses you. when you open them, he’s deep in thought, stare fixated on the space between your shoulder as if it’ll help him come up with an adequate response to this fucked up situation.
“i don’t think i should move past it.” chan swallows, his voice slightly trembling if you strain to hear it. something in you burns when you realise he doesn’t even bother to correct you about calling the previous woman you’d seen him with his girlfriend, and now you’re left wondering if there really is something deeper brewing between them. your stomach plummets at the potential, so much so that you can feel hints of irrational anger rising to the surface in you, and before you know it, you’re seeing red. “what the fuck does that even mean?” you spit out in your mild fit of rage that’s just begun, and chan’s eyes widen at you use of words.
“i-i mean, you’ve been avoiding me this whole time, and i just wanna know if it was something i did from last time, or if—“
“god, you just don’t know when to quit, do you?” you continue to snap, trying desperately to ignore the fresh sting of tears threatening to leak. you know this isn’t what you want to say, your heart speaking something different that it’s been trying to tell you for ages now, but the phrases tumbling out of your mouth are anything but the truth that yearns to be shared with probably the one person who would choose to understand and listen to it.
“this was nothing to begin with, and it never will be, chan. i said what i said ‘cause i was wasted out of my mind, it doesn’t mean jackshit. so, you can go ahead and do whatever the hell you want, and i’ll do the same.”
you don’t even realise the gravity of your words until you’re done, finally meeting chan’s gaze which only makes you want to let out the sob you’ve been holding back this entire time. instant regret floods your system at the way his shoulders slump and eyes appear emotionless, and before you can think to take it back, to tell him how everything you just said is a lie and that you’ve been trying to ignore whatever you feel towards him all this while, he flashes you a smile. it’s small, and you can tell it hides unspoken emotion in it, but you don’t question nor point it out, too stunned to even process it.
“i understand. i’ll leave you be from now on.” chan says quietly, his voice broken and dull. the lump in your throat sits at the back, ever so present and persistent as you try to swallow it away whilst watching his defeated frame turn around and walk off in the opposite direction. a desire deep inside of you itches to scream after him, to run over and yank him into your arms at last, but your pride overshadows it. you know you’ve done what you need to, your mind trying to convince you of the very fact because this is what’s best for you; it’s best for you to not continue mixing with chan in order to stop hurting both him and yourself, although it seems it’s too late for that by now.
moreover, even with that previous acceptance, you still feel uneasy, like something in you remains unresolved. part of you knows exactly what the truth is, but you refuse to acknowledge it. you think you’ll never know when or if the time for you to do so will ever come. so, with a heavy heart and so many unsaid thoughts, you turn around and trudge your way back to the dorms, shooting karina a quick text about feeing under the weather to eat before getting beneath your covers to lay down. a million thoughts buzz in your head as you try to sleep, desperately wanting to evade reality, yet your efforts do little to satiate the noises in your mind.
it’s only when you feel the fresh roll of a single tear against your cheek that you truly come to understand just what’s happened. you know you’ve pushed chan away for the millionth time by now, yet something about this instance feels different. maybe it’s the fact that you stuck around to see the pain in his eyes, or maybe it’s how he still tried to reach out to you despite your avoidance of him. maybe it’s even the way he’s finally found someone who probably loves him the way he deserves to be— openly, something you could never dare to give him despite your blatantly obvious jealousy. your very admissions make the weight in your heart heavier, the knowledge that you’re jealous, that you’ve been jealous this entire time only solidifying the fact that you care. you care so fucking much to the point it’s been eating you alive, and that’s all it takes for you to break before you’re full on crying, body shaking as you cover your face in your hands. one lone thought remains in your mind in the midst of your tears, the thought that chan may have not been yours to begin with, but now?
now, he’s definitely never going to be.
. . .
“l/n, what’s the matter with you today? keep up, you’re falling behind!” your coach’s frustrated voice cuts through the evening air once more as you squint, the stadium lights behind her highlighting her form that’s menacingly staring at you with hands on her hips. a loud sigh leaves your lips, causing you to clutch the plastic of your cheer tassels tightly in your hand as you try and ignore the stares coming from your girls. this is probably the fifth time you’ve messed up the routine for everyone today, an event highly unlikely for you in normal occurrences, but after having spent a few days since.. that, you can’t seem to get into the zone and focus on anything anymore.
practise drones on for another hour, filled with more groans and scolding from your instructor directed your way in specific until she finally gives up and dismisses everyone for the day. she grumbles something about how you guys should just come back tomorrow in the morning prior to the game instead and stomps off to her office, leaving you with a pit in your stomach because you know this is all because of you. there’s silence that lingers in the atmosphere once she’s gone, and no one dares to speak up, instead opting to stare at you through stolen glances as you heave a breathe. tossing your equipment aside, you move to go fill up some water, chugging it down in hopes that quenching your thirst will get you to snap out of the haziness that’s currently fogging your mind.
“hey.” a voice greets you from behind, and you whip your head back to find yunjin and giselle standing there. crumpling the paper cup in your hands, you fling it into the nearby bin, mustering up a smile as you nod at them which pushes giselle to bite the gun. “you okay? you seem kind of.. off today.” she questions in worry, causing you to shrug.
“yeah, sorry. i’ve just got a lot on my mind, i guess.” you huff out a laugh, although there’s nothing but annoyance laced in your tone. your teammates exchange looks between them at your words, and yunjin steps forward to place a hand on your shoulder. “we get it, the big game is nerve-wracking for us too.” you hum, her voice offering the same encouraging dialogue to you droning out in your head as reality fades away and your inner monologue with yourself begins once more.
what was the actual point of all of this anymore? were you even in it for the long haul? did you really want to continue giving it your all even after knowing you’ve lost something that means so much to you? you realise belatedly now that everything around you has become superficial, and that none of it seems to matter in the grand scheme of things except for.. well, him. even the concept of going to parties, getting wasted, missing classes, being on a team with the rest of the girls, it all feels endlessly futile now. that’s not to say you haven’t had fun this entire time, but something in you feels like it’s finally come to terms with what’s surrounding you. the ringing in your ears only gets louder by the minute as you try to will it away, and it genuinely seems like the alarms in you have finally woken up after months of staying dormant.
“sorry, yun, but i have to go. i’ll see you two later.” you mumble, and before either of them can protest, you’re turning around and walking off, the evening’s cool air following you closely behind.
you don’t even say hi to karina when you reach your dorm room, ignoring her greeting as you toss your shoes to the side, but she seems to pick up on what’s going on after seeing the longing look in your eyes. she doesn’t question it either when you lock yourself in the bathroom, simply going back to reading her book as if nothing had happened, and you’re honestly grateful for that realisation when you start the water. once the tub is all filled up, you strip down naked and dip your body in, closing your eyes at the warm sensation which envelops you after slipping in.
even still, the hug your bath seems to wrap you up in doesn’t take away from the heaviness of the day that continues to wear you down, almost like what happened over the course of this week is dragging your tense muscles with it. your chest still feels tight and the voices in your head remain muffled, like they’re being deafened by white noise that hasn’t stopped increasing in pitch ever since you came to terms with how you’re feeling. how you’re feeling. you swallow at that.
it feels like hours pass by the time you finally heave your soaking wet limbs out, bundling yourself up in a towel to dry yourself off before creaking the door open. when you step out, you notice karina’s side of the room to be empty, checking your phone to see if she’d messaged you, only to find texts from her saying she’d gone down to the dining hall with her classmates. you shoot her a quick reply back, adding some obscure emoji so she knows not to worry too much and then proceed to flop down on your own bed, frowning when you feel the still remaining dampness of your hair hit the pillow.
your eyes drift to your device which illuminates in the darkness of the room again, fingers moving to grab it as you unlock it only to flick through the rows of messages flooding in from group chats you don’t even know why you’re part of in the first place. some part of you feels empty upon eyeing them, watching the way everyone buzzes in excitement about the game tomorrow knowing you feel far from how they do. rather, it’s the opposite, some sort of twisted sensation washing over you as you scroll past all your notifications only to land on a particular chat.
“fuck.” you mutter to yourself, groaning whilst your eyes rake over chan’s contact name. you press on the profile photo hesitantly, biting your lip as it enlarges to give you a better look at what picture you’ve set for him; the picture you took of him.
you still remember it vividly— the both of you had gone down to the convenience store to grab a quick study snack, only to end up chatting over long gone cold ramen for hours on no end up until the point it had turned dark outside. you’d brushed off the dirt on your jeans after getting up from the stairs you two had sat on, turning around to face chan who was also about to stand but stopped at your request for him to pose for the camera. he’d gone red in the face when you teased him about how good he’d looked after snapping some photos of him, nervously scratching the back of his neck as he brushed off your compliment despite his giggles.
you’d been so busy pointing out the details of the photo that you hadn’t even noticed the way he’d laced his hand in yours, his palm soft against your cooler skin which caused the insides of your stomach to leap in a weird way. you’d ignored it of course, letting him enjoy his moment seeing as no one was around to catch you both anyways, but the blooming contentment you’d felt in your body remained until he’d walked you back to your dorm room, shyly flashing you a smile before placing a small kiss on your forehead. you rode out on that high for the next few days without even knowing it.
it’s only when your screen becomes wet with a few drops of your tears that you snap out of the memories, realising you’re crying once more. you use the back of your sleeve to wipe at your face, sniffling slightly all while trying to hold back the emotions that threaten to escape you yet again after having bottled them up for days now. your previous texts with chan stare back in your eyes as a sore reminder of everything, and you can’t help but scroll through them, reading back the silly messages you’d exchanged which only make you want to wallow in self pity even more.
was chan thinking of you the way you were of him? was he cooped up and unable to progress with his day because he was still hung up on how things had ended? did he care? did he.. ever care? did he care half as much as you did right now?
he did.
you realise belatedly that he cared, cared so much that maybe it was even more than you do right now or ever could and will. chan cared for you so deeply, so passionately in a way nobody else had the capability to do so in your entire life. he replaced the love you lacked growing up with his boyish charms and soft spoken personality, and he was willing to give up parts of him for your sake so as long as it meant you were happy.
he cared. he had cared.
he’d cared so fucking much and you’d thrown it away like it was nothing.
before you can even process your next actions, your thumb presses on the call icon next to chan’s profile. the ring goes out immediately, his nickname and photo appearing on your screen once more as you wait with bated breath. you don’t even know what you’re doing right now, you don’t think you ever have known to be honest when it comes to chan, but some irrational, impulsive part of you feels like it’s taken over, yearning to satiate the desires you’ve ignored for a long time now.
beep. beep. beep.
please pick up. please don’t pick up. please pick up. please don’t pick up. please—
“the number you have dialled is..“
it’s immediate the way you click off the call, bottom lip wobbling once you’re sure there’s no way anyone can hear as all your pent up frustration comes crashing down on you in an instant. a beat of silence passes as you exhale a shaky breath, which seems to be the beginning of the floodgates opening because by the time the air even leaves your mouth, you’re choking back a sob, much like you have been for these past few days. your heart tightens in a way that makes you extremely uncomfortable, and your hands shake as you try embrace yourself by hugging your knees to your chest so you can bury your face in them.
chan hadn’t picked up. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve asked him to come over in the dead of the night to meet up with you just so you two can make out in the backseat of his car. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve texted wishing to facetime with him because you’re bored of trying to do your assignments. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve wanted him to let you know to ring you up once he’s arrived home safe after having driven you back to your dorm.
he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times because he was gone from your life once and for all.
. . .
the next morning arrives far too soon for your liking, and it takes everything within you to drag your body out of the solace of your bed which currently seems to be the only thing providing you any semblance of comfort in your dull times. you do your best to make small talk with karina as you both get ready for the game, your roommate chatting your ear off about something mundane and irrelevant that you suspect is her way of filling the uncomfortable air lingering around you that she’s picked up on. you’re grateful for her trying to compensate for your lack of a response, but even with karina’s support, your soul feels extremely hollow and devoid of any meaning still. you hum and offer simple quips to her regardless of your mind screaming at you to go non-verbal, and before you know it, you’re both out of the door with you dressed up in your cheer uniform despite not feeling the slightest bit prepared to tackle what the day is about to bring.
by the time you both reach the stadium, everyone has already filled out the majority of the seats, the loud buzz of excitement resonating through the surroundings as you rake your eyes over the large turnout. karina flashes you a smile before giving you a quick hug, assuring you that you’ll do great and disappearing into the crowd to find her own spot to sit down. you want to believe her words, you truly do, but all your mind is fixated on right now is how sheerly empty you feel, your thoughts still drowning you in negativity with the way they haven’t shut up since last night, or maybe even for the past few weeks if you’re being honest. despite whatever emotions and jitters you’re feeling though, you try shrug it off, breathing in deeply before making your way over to where the rest of your team has gathered.
it’s the same speech that you’re met with when you finally stand around the huddle that everyone has formed in, their bright grins and your coach’s encouraging ment making you feel guilty for not being as fully into this as everybody else is. despite the drawbacks, you beam anyways, participating in the pre-show ritual of putting your hands into the centre and laughing alongside your girls. you all separate eventually and stand in your positions, and it doesn’t take long before the event begins and you’re all starting the crowd off with the all too familiar chant of your university’s slogan that everybody joins in on.
the game begins and generally progresses with no major hiccups, and in the end, you do manage to pull off the routine you’ve practised multiple times seamlessly without any issues. your limbs burn, and your voice is hoarse by the time the band takes over, but you try your best to maintain your outgoing nature despite the inner turmoil that’s been brewing inside you for a while now. nonetheless, before you know it, halftime is over and both teams are on the brink of a match point stopping them from taking victory. everybody watches with their nerves at a full time high, and for a moment, your thoughts seem to fade as you focus on keeping the gathering of people upbeat and motivated to encourage the players, but it’s short-lived after the star player manages to score the winning goal once and for all.
upon the realisation that your team has won, everyone erupts in loud celebration and applause, some even standing from their seat to make their way down and join in on the crowd of players who have formed around the one who threw the last shot. your girls and coach all yell in joy, a few of them hugging each other after a successfully executed performance which leaves them jumping up and down. you stay to watch from the sidelines, happy for your team’s hard efforts despite your still heavy shoulders dragging you down from getting into the spirit. some of the girls try and grab you by the hand to bring you into the hug, but you politely decline, saying you need to catch your breath for a second as some meaningless excuse to avoid having to be surrounded by a large group of people for too long.
observing everyone feels bittersweet. you want to be as pumped up as everybody else is, want to join in and ride on the high of having tackled what was quite possibly the biggest, most important match of the season, but a part of you holds back. no matter how much you try drag yourself out of your low spirits, you can’t succeed, instead feeling the need to chew on your bottom lip with your rising inability to hide your emotions as you stand in the middle of the ground alone. you don’t know where karina’s sauntered of to after the news of today's game outcome, and you’re not even sure where the rest of the team is heading to now; you assume it’s to some nearby diner for further commemoration. everything in you remains the same, numb and drained of any potential happiness that could’ve been because of what you’ve come to realise is completely your fault.
with a deep sigh and a gradual acceptance that you should just head back to the dorms, you turn on your heel, tossing your tassels somewhere in the basket you’d picked them up from before slowly trudging your way in the direction of the student accommodation. your eyes feel glossy, and that weird lump you keep getting before you’re about to cry is back in your throat as you watch everyone whizz past you, clearly bustling in thrill that’s much different from how you’re feeling. you do catch a few glances on you, feeling people’s stares and knowing they’re probably wondering why a member of the cheer team isn’t out partying with the rest, but you can’t find it in you to care anymore. you don’t know how you ever did in the first place.
y/n.
your ears perk at a familiar voice shouting your name in the distance, goosebumps spiking on your skin at the way it sounds so similar to chan’s. you feel like you’re hallucinating at this point, just hearing things because of your growing infatuation with him that’s finally made its way up from the underlying surface, and that only prompts you to walk faster as you tug your arms to your chest. if you’re starting to imagine things, it’s best that you get out of here. so, with your eyes squeezed shut, you try carry yourself as fast as your legs can take you, the call of your name only growing louder regardless of how much you ignore it. you swear you’re going mad from the way each time it returns, it sounds even closer and identical to how chan does, springing up memories of when he’d called you by your name the previous times you’d spent together.
y/n. y/n. y/n.
“y/n!”
your eyes widen when you hear the same voice and footsteps jogging up directly right behind you, this time knowing for sure that it’s not just in your head and rather coming from a few meters away. your heart accelerates with the possibility of what that means, of what that would entail if it were true. it couldn’t be.
..could it?
you’re quick to spin around when the thought crosses your mind, your eyes raking over your surroundings to search for that one figure you’ve been looking for in everyone you’ve met for the past few months. your breath catches in your throat, and you whip your head side to side to try and find the source, but it’s only when your vision stabilises and settles on the emerging figure in front of you that you realise it—
chan.
it’s chan.
chan is here.
“y/n.” he breathes out when he finally catches up to you, his glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose in his haste to greet you. you don’t respond, mouth open and feet frozen in place with your mind rushing at a million miles per hour and so many different questions echoing in it. is this real? have you fallen into some delusional state of existence where you’re envisioning the one person you’ve needed for so long? is he just a figment of your imagination that’s been burning with his face for so many days now? you can’t believe it, you don’t want to believe it, you think you don’t deserve to believe it. you long to reach out to him and place your hand in his, to feel and see if he’s actually present and standing in front of you, but your body acts like it’s been caught up in utter shock, something chan seems to pick up on after your prolonged silence.
“g-good job on the game.” he decides to stutter out as a way of starting conversation hopefully, cursing internally at how his voice wavers before letting out a nervous chuckle. “you were really great out there, and i saw you lead everyone really well. you know, if i think about it, cheerleading is kinda an intense sport, ‘cause why were you guys jumping so high, and—“
“you came.”
chan blinks as if to process your words, his eyes softening immediately at the admission that’s slipped out of you when you cut his rambling off mid-sentence with two simple words. you look so shocked, and it’s with a proper glance at your face he’s getting after not having been able to see you well enough for a while that he notices the remnants of your bloodshot eyes and slight dark circles, all of which you’d tried to cover up with makeup. he thinks you’re still as pretty as ever like this, and his hand twitches with the urging need to take you in his arms. he wants so badly to hold you, but he hesitates, instead settling on two, even more simpler words—
“you called.”
that’s all it takes. all it takes is two words which inherently have no meaning unless you give it to them to set you free and rid you of the static in your brain, your orbs stinging with the all too knowing tears that slowly drop out of them as you let everything sink in. it may sound like the most mundane sentence on the outside, but to you, after weeks of uncertainty and these last few days filled with what you would honestly classify as the worst depressive thoughts of your life, they feel like the most uplifting thing ever.
chan’s gaze widens when he catches the sole droplet of salty water roll down your cheek, and he’s instinctively extending his finger to wipe it away until he realises what he’s just done. you don’t even get to speak as he splutters out apologies for touching you while looking around to see if anyone caught that. his actions make your heart ache, knowing it’s because of you that he feels so cautious, and before you can even think, you’re crashing into him. the sudden weight of your body causes him to stumble a little on his feet, but he manages to stabilise himself as you wrap yourself around him in his embrace, burying your face into his chest.
“‘m sorry. ‘m so, so sorry.” your voice cracks as you speak, muffled into his jacket to the point he has to strain to hear it. you keep repeating the same thing over and over again to the point it makes his frown deepen, and he’s instant in cradling you back in his hold, other people be damned because he’d be an idiot not to take care of you now of all times. he lets you mumble into his clothes as long as you need to, grip on your smaller figure tightening while he rubs your back soothingly. his touch feels warm and comforting, and you don’t even know how you’d gone so far without it, pulling back with a sniffle after a short instance so you can scan your eyes over his features.
he’s dressed in simple clothes today, but that same combo of his signature snapback and glasses he always has remain resting on his head and face. you don’t even know what it is about them, maybe it’s the fact that you’ve gotten so accustomed to seeing him in these things, or maybe it’s how you’re finally catching a glimpse of it all after having been away for so long, but the sight of his accessories that you know all too well only makes you cry harder. you try move your arm to wipe at your tears, but chan is quicker, the soft pads of his thumbs brushing against your wet cheeks as he cups your face in his hands. your bottom lip juts out shamelessly as he wipes the remnants of your emotions away, to which he just smiles.
“i’m sorry too.” he admits, your confusion urging him to elaborate. “i saw you called yesterday night, but my brother had my phone and wouldn’t give it back to me, so i couldn’t pick up. i debated calling you back too, but i wasn’t sure if it was just another drunken mishap, and then after you said everything that day, i-i didn’t want to risk bothering you, and..“ he trails off, biting his bottom lip. you swallow at his words.
“it wasn’t a drunk call.” you shake your head, voice still wobbly as you clear your throat. “chan, i..“ you struggle to find a plausible explanation, wishing you could say a hundred words and none at the same time. you want to tell him everything in your heart, all the fears you’ve had this entire time that you want to get over with his help, all the nonsense your brain has been spewing ever since you told him to walk out of your life, all of it. you want him to know every deep, dark secret you’ve kept this entire time, but you can’t seem to find the right way to phrase it all.
“i get it.” he offers a lopsided grin as if having read your mind, and it’s pathetic really how it instantly eases all your worries. “you don’t have to say anything, not unless you want to. but, y/n,” chan hesitates, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. “there’s something i need to tell you before it’s too late.”
that makes you gulp, and you wonder for a split second if maybe this is the end. maybe this is chan finally putting himself and his needs first before you can even profess all the unsaid declarations of your feelings for him. maybe he’s become fed up with you at last and came to see you in person today to let you down easily, telling you sweet things and comforting you so you’d ease your guard and be more susceptible to what he’s about to say. maybe it’s finally time for you to let go before you could’ve even had a taste of what was to come, maybe this is the universe’s way of letting you know you lost your timing due to your insolence, maybe—
“i love you.”
…what?
your eyes practically bulge out of your head at this point, and for a while, you wonder if you really heard him right. it’s like your entire world seems to slow down around you too, your surroundings spinning even with you trying to stabilise your vision after what you’d just been told. everything feels like it’s fading into background noise, and suddenly your entire focus is only on chan; chan with his gorgeous face and honey-like voice that you’ve heard so many times letting you know the one thing you’ve longed to hear from him these past few weeks.
“i think— no, i know you’re it for me.” he continues to blurt out, his anxiety gnawing him at the back of his mind with the way you don’t say anything. “i’ve wanted to tell you for so long because i’ve been in love with you for a while now, but i didn’t because of what you said that day. a-and i know you told me not to bother you again, and maybe you’re not in the right mindset right now and i’m just imagining all of this, and you’re going to wake up tomorrow having changed your mind and we’ll go back to the way we were, and—“
chan’s words die down in his throat before he can even get the rest of his sentence out, a surprised yelp leaving him when you abruptly cut him off by pressing your mouth against his. he lets out a small noise of shock at the way you lean into him, but his hands wrap around you as if its instinct, caging you into his body when he eventually does reciprocate your actions. your lips are soft; they’re so warm and taste like your strawberry chapstick, but he doesn’t care that it’s probably staining his face, at least not when he’s finally got you with him, no less in the way he’s longed for ever since he met your drunk figure stumbling into the balcony with him that night at the party.
your head isn’t any quieter either, adrenaline coursing through your veins and heart impossibly beating out of your chest as you enthusiastically mould yourself to him. your fingers bunch up the jacket he’s wearing, and the way he’s kissing you makes your toes curl inside your shoes, but none of that matters when you’re here at long last with chan. chan, chan, chan. your chan. your chan who has never been yours but is now saying he is. your imperfect, awkward, nerdy chan who holds the door open for you and respects all your wishes regardless of how they make him feel. the realisation makes your insides twist in a way you think might make your legs give out on you, but chan is quick to squeeze your waist as a way of reassuring you that he won’t let you fall, and you can’t help the fluttery sensation in your stomach that passes with that.
when you both do pull away, it’s with much reluctance, and you can see the faintest hint of a pout on chan’s face decorated with the remnants of your makeup, but he doesn’t seem to care so you think neither should you. your eyes lock when he opens his, those same orbs you’ve felt such complicated feelings for reflecting back at you with unspoken tension and so much adoration. you think you might physically melt with the way he’s staring down at you, so lovestruck and completely in awe, but that’s exactly what gives you the push to say your next words—
“i love you so much.” you choke out, unexpected emotions washing over you as you finally admit what you’ve been wanting to say for so long. it feels liberating in a way you’ve never experienced, to be honest and real with him, but you think you could get used to it.
“how could i not love you, chan? you’re everything i’ve ever needed.” your voice comes out in a whisper, and chan feels his shoulders relax at that, relief flooding through his system when he finally, finally hears what he’s wanted to since he’s known you. “‘m sorry for pushing you away, ‘m sorry for hurting you, and i’ll try my best to stop running from what i want. so.. if you’ll still have me even after all that, i promise i’ll make it worth your while.” you look down at your feet, swallowing in fear that he’d think otherwise after being reminded of everything you did to him. you know you don’t deserve a second chance, but the thought of chan changing his mind after everything that’s happened feels way too cruel, although you think maybe that’s your karma.
“hey,” your ears catch his gentle voice speak up, dragging you out of your thoughts. before you can even look up, chan’s hooking his finger under your chin and making you do so, his beautiful face that you’ve fallen for throughout these past few months coming into your view. the way he’s staring down at you is so tender, so full of admiration that you genuinely believe you might pass out. chan has always looked at you like you hung the stars up in the sky, like he wants you and you only in every lifetime. but, seeing it now after his confession, seeing the way his gaze rakes over your features as if he’s trying to commit them to memory, you feel like you might cry again.
“of course i’ll have you, are you kidding me?” he huffs out in a laugh that pulls you back to reality, although it sounds more like him being in disbelief. “i’ve been dreaming of this ever since i even saw you.” he shyly mumbles, and you can’t stop the goofy grin that spreads across your face at his admittance. you want to jump in joy, to shout out your feelings for him from the top of the bleachers after finally having it all laid bare in front of you, but you can’t, so instead you settle on smashing your lips against his once more, cradling his face in your hands.
chan’s quick in responding this time, and you can sense the way he’s beaming when he moves his mouth in sync with yours. your hand slides up his chest to grip the edge of his jacket, and you swear you can feel the rapid thumping of his heart under your skin, wondering if he can hear yours too with the way you’re both pressed up to each other. you stay like that to the point your lungs burn, exchanging kisses and unspoken feelings amongst each other until you finally have enough (not really). your hand interlocks with his once you pull away and flash him a cheeky smile, the words already leaving you—
“let’s get out of here.”
. . .
by the time you and chan make it to his car, you’re already panting, lips bruised with the way you’ve been pushing them against one another’s for the past few minutes. it took long enough to even drag him to the parking lot, chan not being able to let go of you in favour of walking the short distance to the outdoor area where he'd driven and stopped. the morning sky that’s illuminated above you with hues of orange stretches out for miles, and if anyone’s up there looking down at you both, they’d probably see two young adults giggling amongst themselves as one of them presses the other up to the side of his vehicle. you feel butterflies erupt in you with the way chan slots his body against yours, his leg pushing its way through the gap between yours, and his mouth is on you before you can even speak.
“you look so pretty today.” chan retracts from you to whisper suddenly, his slightly foggy glasses once again sliding off his nose. you reach up and push them back with a mischievous glint in your eyes, and he swears he's never seen a sight so alluring in his life; his red ears are enough evidence of that fact. “so, am i not pretty every other day, mr. bang?” you tease, causing him to let out a chuckle. he missed this, missed the banter between you two that was the start of what could've been mistaken as a lighthearted relationship if no one bothered to correct the details of it. regardless of all the trials and tribulations it took to get you both to this point, he doesn't care, at least not when he finally has you in his arms, your top bunched up in his hands as he looks down at your precious face.
“nope.” he pops the ‘p’, thumb brushing against your cheek. “because those days, you're even prettier.” he murmurs, and you think if your heart races anymore that it might actually burst. the love and adoration that you’re experiencing for him right now, the love and adoration that you've been experiencing for a long time now, it all feels like a fever dream. you're finally able to do and say what you want to him, but you think the best part of it all is him reciprocating it. the way he gazes at you, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you, all of it— it's all so full of emotion to the point you fear that you can't ever give it all back. you'd be damned if you didn't try though.
“alright, romeo, pipe it down. you're gonna get all the ladies with that line.” you joke, and chan throws his head back to let out a laugh that makes your insides twist. you try to move your head away to hide the tint of pink that's rapidly spreading across your face, but he notices anyway, a large grin plastered all over his mouth that he doesn't even bother hiding anymore. he fumbles around with his keys a little until he finally finds the one that unlocks his car, instantly opening the door to the backseat to which you usher in at lightning speed, drawing another laugh from him.
“c’mere.” he sighs once he's in too, grasping your hand to tug you onto his lap somehow despite the cramped space. you let out a noise of surprise as he settles you over him, but your hands instantly move to his shoulders to stabilise yourself, finding the familiar position you've been in far too many times. “someone’s eager.” you let out breathlessly, unable to hold back the giggle that bubbles in your throat at the way he flushes red at your observation. his hands find purchase on your waist, the smooth feel of your uniform being bunched up in his larger fingers causing your heart to beat out of its chest.
“well, yeah, but.. also, i missed you.” chan confesses quietly. “i mean, i’ve been dreaming about this for so long and now it's finally real.” he mutters in disbelief, and you can't stop the pout that forms. your fingers trace along the soft skin of his face, moving past the outline of his jaw to his swollen mouth that you've probably kissed at least ten times by today. you don't hesitate to kiss it again, lips moulding perfectly against his as your eyes slip shut to revel in the moment. chan is nothing but full of sighs of content at your actions, and when you pull away, he swears he almost whines.
“i missed you too. so much.” you admit, full and honest because you had. you'd missed him so much to the point you'd have thought you were going crazy. you missed him every day you had waken up whether or not you wanted to be aware of it, and you'd missed him every night that you'd cried yourself to sleep. and yet, here he is now, sitting with you in his lap all the way in the back of his beat up car, telling you all these sweet words that make you want to do absolutely sinful things to him.
“missed talking to you.” you boop his nose, and he smiles at you, irrevocably down bad. “missed hugging you.” your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, and while you shudder at the visible idea of how much stronger chan actually is compared to you, you sign it off as a fantasy you'll have to indulge in someday later. “missed kissing you.” you mumble, leaning in to pepper a soft trail across his cheeks. “and, most of all..” you trail off, inching closer so you're at level with his burning ears before you speak— 
“i missed tasting you.” your voice comes out in a low tone, and chan all but groans at the dirty admission. he shifts slightly underneath you as evidence of his discomfort, but you know that's only from the way you can feel him filling out his jeans. your hips purposely push down on his to grind against the slowly forming bulge tucked away behind his boxers, and he jerks forward, nails digging into the fabric of your skirt with a loud hiss leaving him. 
“don’t— don’t do that.” chan gasps out, the sight of your glossy, doe eyes instantly having blood rush between his legs. he can tell you’re in the mood to play games, but he also knows that if he goes one more minute without having claimed you in any sort of way, he might actually die. “‘m literally on the brink of it, baby. please.” you bite your lip at his small plea, ignoring the way the old nickname falls from him as the faintest hint of a smirk forms across your features. you choose to rock your clothed core on his once more anyway, which makes chan toss his head back so rough that a slight thump resonates in the air after he hits the seat. 
his gaze is hooded whilst he watches you hump your slowly growing wetness over his pants for the next few minutes, mouth parted as heavy exhales leave it alongside the rapidly rising tension between you both. one particular press of your probably damp by now panties on his bulge has him keening, which only makes you smile. “shit, you still love teasing me, huh?” he curses in question, breathy laughter escaping him at the sight of you nodding as his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. the sight alone is so attractive that you can’t resist leaning in to capture him in another searing kiss, one that’s much hotter and heavier than the previous ones.
chan’s confusion is audible with the way he voices it out loud when you suddenly pull away, but any and all complaints die down in his throat the minute he sees you shuffle from his lap, biting back the groan that threatens to rumble through his chest at you sinking to your knees instead. you’re thankful that his passenger seat is adjusted forward to give you space to sit, likely being that way from all your previous activities, or maybe it could be from anybody else he brought in during the technically no contact period you both broke moments prior to this. hot jealousy bubbles under the surface at the potential of someone else getting to see him how you do, but you swallow it down in lieu of making the most of what situation you’re in now.
“pretty girl.” chan’s voice is merely a whisper, dragging you out of your thoughts as one of his hands caresses the flesh of your cheek, leaving you to nuzzle against it. he glances at you so softly regardless of whatever erotic position you’ve put yourself in, still in utter awe at the fact that you’re here, physically and in front of him instead of the daydreams he’s often found himself imagining of you. he can’t decide whether you look like the epitome of perfection with the sunlight streaming through his windows and highlighting your face, or the epitome of sin with the predicament you’re in which leaves you situated on the floor of his car between his legs; he chooses to settle on both.
your fingers graze his denim clad thighs, and chan retracts himself from brushing his thumb against the skin of your face to hurriedly undo the zipper of his jeans. you’re more than eager to help, assisting him in unbuttoning and shimmying them off despite the cramped space you’re both in. eventually, chan’s pants and boxers are pooling around his ankles, and his leaking cock awaits prettily for any sort of relief you may be able to provide it, the tip a slight shade of red as precum dribbles out. you’re quick to swipe it off, chan’s noises at you doing so falling on deaf ears as you bring the essence up to your mouth and lick it off. the familiar tinge of sweet and saltiness invades your senses, only making the uncomfortable stickiness between your own legs grow.
“you’re so beautiful, channie.” you say after popping your finger out of your mouth, small hands instantly moving to wrap around his length and squeeze just a tad, which has chan’s chest rumbling with a moan. “gorgeous face, gorgeous body, gorgeous everything. how could i have been so foolish to almost let go of it?” you wonder out loud, eyes flickering up to him when he buries his face in his palms, getting flustered at your compliments. “my shy boy.” you giggle at his actions, mesmerised by the way he twitches in your hold when you softly pump him up and down. 
“been such a bad girl ignoring you, yeah?” you sigh in faux frustration, although a part of it is true. “no more of that, though. let me make it up to you.” you gather a wad of spit in your mouth before letting it dribble across his cockhead, smearing the saliva over it with your thumb once more. your ministrations have chan’s hips threatening to buck up in your hold, but he restrains himself, embarrassed at how worked up you’ve already gotten him without even having done anything really. “i promise i’ll make you feel so good.” you assure, eyebrows furrowing when he just shakes his head.
“no, y-you always make me feel good.” he stutters at the way your fingers squeeze just a bit harder from his words, and before he can even add anything else to his previous sentence, you’re leaning forward to wrap your warm mouth around him. 
a loud groan shudders its way past chan’s lips at how you practically swallow him whole in one go, taking him in so deep that he can feel the way his mushroom head kisses the back of your throat just a smidge. you pull off a little to let your tongue slide out and lick around the underside of his dick, another hand coming up to fondle with his balls simultaneously. soon enough, his low grunts fill the air, only prompting you to hum around chan as the vibrations of your voice shoot up his body. “fuck, angel.” he manages to utter out, a deep moan slipping out when he dares to peek a glance at you, almost cumming prematurely from the way you look up at him through your lashes. 
“wan’ you to fuck my throat. please.” you pull off of him to plead instead, rubbing the spit-stricken head of his sensitive cock against your swollen lips. the way you’re staring back at him with wide eyes, your wet muscle darting out to dip into his slit as he chokes on his own words makes him want to take you right then and there, but chan holds back, choosing to oblige your request with a shaky nod as he reaches forward to thread his fingers through your hair. you smile at him sweetly, enveloping his length back into your hot cavern of a mouth and pushing your nose flush to his pelvis.
this time, he feels his tip bump deliciously against the back of your throat, and it doesn’t take much longer for him to start slowly push himself in and out whilst gripping you in a makeshift ponytail. the sloppy sounds of your gagging fill the space of his car in an instant, and the mere sight of your tears welling up nearly sends chan toppling over the edge. he’s quick to take you off of him at that, and you’re about to protest to ask why he stopped when he cuts you off. “‘m sorry, angel, but if we don’t stop, i'll end up finishing like a teenage boy in your mouth.” you huff out a small laugh at his choice of words. 
“i wouldn’t have cared, channie. that’s kinda the goal of sex.” you point out, rising from your crouched position with burning knees to settle on his lap once more as you wrap your arms around his neck. “yeah, but..” chan trails off, his breath hitching at the way he presses up against your clothed stomach, and you titter from how he seems absolutely awestruck at the sight of you in his hold. it’s so endearing that you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his nose, letting your lips trail across his cheeks, ears and jaw before finally landing on his mouth. chan feels like he’s going to go mad when you eventually retract from him. “yeah, but?” you remind him with a smug grin, watching him blink to gather his thoughts again.
“i-i want you to feel good too.” he mumbles shyly, averting his gaze elsewhere in embarrassment as you coo. you bring your fingers up to move his face so he’s glancing at you once more, his shining eyes locking with yours and making your heart swell. 
chan’s love for you has always been selfless; he doesn’t seem to care for his own pleasure much when it comes to you and always insists on making you feel good over having himself do so. it’s one of the things you’ve grown so familiar with when being around him, and before he came along, the concept of someone being so giving had never even crossed your mind. you’re aware a part of it lies in the fact that you’re his first— first kiss, first time, first everything. it used to scare you before, making you feel like he was missing out on what everyone else could offer him by being stuck to you, but the minute the possibility of him having the experiences he shared with you with somebody else became a reality, you knew you could give less of a fuck about being selfish. 
because right now in this very moment, or two hours from now, one day from today, a few weeks from this time, and in every lifetime to come too, you wanted chan. you wanted him on his good or bad days, wanted him through thick or thin, and wanted him even if you had the chance to choose from anybody in the world. he’d become it for you, and god, were you glad he felt the same way.
“it makes me feel good when you do, baby.” you remind him, flashing him a smile that makes his insides melt. “but, if you insist, then who am i to deny my pretty boy?” chan has to bite back the grin that threatens to spread across his face at your words. your pretty boy. yours. he’d wanted to be nothing more ever since you walked into his life and now he finally had it, the idea being so incredulously unfathomable to him that he doesn’t even register you taking off your top. it’s only when your fingers graze his cheek and you lean in for another kiss that he notices you’re now half naked and straddling him, a noise of pleasure leaving his mouth at the realisation which you swallow up. your lips slot against his so perfectly, almost like they’re two pieces of the same puzzle finally meeting each other, warmth blooming in both of you at the idea of being each other’s missing link.
“no, no, just lemme pull ‘em to the side.” you pull back and whisper when he lifts your skirt to yank down your underwear. shakily, you reach below and hook your fingers into the damp material, tugging it to one end and exposing your wetness that nearly drips out of you. chan has to hold back the dirty noises that bubble inside him at the sight of your soaked panties, but even more so when you grab his length and line him up to your entrance. both of you can’t stop your sighs of long deserved relief when his tip breaches your opening, barely sucked in but still nestled inside, and before chan can beg you to put him all the way in, you’re sitting down on his cock completely, biting your lip at the burning stretch.
“fuck.” is the only thing that you hear from chan once he’s fully bottomed out, looking up to see him staring down at where you’re both connected with blown out pupils. his gaze makes you burn up, involuntarily causing you to clench to the point your boy is digging his nails into your side, leaving crescents in your skin for you to wake up to tomorrow. “missed you so much.” chan’s voice is strained alongside the small laugh that escapes him, his hips slightly bucking up and causing you to whimper as the sound goes straight to his dick. he has to physically stop himself from fucking up into you, your warmth enveloping him in the best way possible. 
“please move, princess. please.” he begs, pleas dripping with raw desire as he gazes up at you with wide eyes. it’s all the confirmation you need to slowly lift your hips up and lower them down on his, your warm walls clinging to his cock having the both of you moaning out loud at the feeling it provides instantly. 
your movements are slow, deep and deliberate with how you rock your hips in a gentle grind against chan’s length buried to the hilt inside you. the angle of your bodies locked together allows his mushroom head to breach far inside you, and it almost feels like he’s all the way in your stomach. chan’s cock has always been girthy and heavy, a large vein protruding along the side of his shaft and leading to the bulbous tip of his dick. the first time you took him, let him feel what it’s like to not just fuck his fist, he almost tore you in half with his misplaced, rabid actions. but right now, with you riding him in the backseat of his car, the windows fogging up and no doubt giving away your scandalous activities, he feels even larger in you, especially with how he pushes up to meet you halfway. 
“baby.” you mewl at a particularly well-placed thrust, preening at how his cockhead brushes against that spot tucked safely inside, and chan bites his lip at the way your face is contorted in absolute bliss. he brings one of his knobby digits up to wet it before trailing it down to press into your clit, and you almost fall forward from the sudden jolt of pleasure. “s’good?” he murmurs, continuing to rub tight circles on your swollen nub as you whimper in agreement, vision going crosseyed from how great your body feels at the moment. 
sex with chan is always an experience to say the least. you still remember the time he lost his virginity to you, rutting inside your heat freely in his childhood bedroom at a study session gone wrong (or right even) with the headboard bumping into the wall. thankfully, nobody was home that day, and you got the privilege of being as loud as you wanted, an occurrence you didn’t expect to happen because well, everything was new to chan. you hadn’t anticipated him being able to make you cum at all, but he had anyway, drawing at least one orgasm from you with his mouth and fingers before he even slipped in. the entire act had been so.. domestic. the way he’d held you, let you use him, and how he’d kissed you so tenderly, it really should’ve dawned on you right then and there that there was no escaping this. chan had gotten you in the palm of his hand from the start contrary to what he thought; you just hadn’t been aware of it until now. 
“i love you.” chan blurts out suddenly, drawing you back to reality as the confession falls so easily from his lips, and your heart races for what feels like the nth time today. it makes you fuck back onto him even harder, your actions become more fervent and desperate with how you lift your hips up to slam them back down on his cock. his car is probably rocking back and forth deliriously by now, and when you slap your hand against the glass to stabilise yourself, it leaves an imprint, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care about that. “you’re the only one for me. always have and always will be.” chan pants out, his whimpers growing louder with the way your pussy tightens around him at his words.
“i love you.” you whine when he pinches your clit slightly between his fingers, feeling your slick juices dripping down the both of you and making a mess of his backseat. “love you so much, channie. you’re my one and only too.” chan shudders at that, wrapping a hand at the back of your neck to pull you in for a messy kiss. it’s a swap of dirty moans and spit, and chan swears he sees heaven when you slip your tongue inside his mouth to lick into it, the knot in his stomach growing closer to snapping.
“cum with me. please, baby, ‘m so close. cum inside me, please, please, please.” you pull away slightly to whimper, smashing your lips back on his to moan muffled against them. chan just nods rapidly at your pleading, feet planted flat on the floor to give him enough leverage for drilling up into you. the slight curve of his cock pistons into that same spot from before, and it isn’t long before your cunt clamps down on him with your high washing over you like a tidal wave. the tingling sensation resonates through your entire body, and you can’t stop lewd sounds from spilling out of you and into chan’s mouth.
chan follows close behind, balls tightening and limbs shaking as his cock twitches inside you. it barely takes him one, two thrusts until he’s painting your walls white in his release, warm cum oozing and almost leaking out of you with how much of it there is. curses and low grunts leave him, and it takes a minute for the two of you to calm down with how intense the spiking pleasure feels. you remain in his embrace until the ringing in your ears dies down, panting onto each other as sweat trickles down your back and his forehead. when you open your eyes, chan has still got his shut, and you lean forward to press a gentle smooch to the underside of his jaw, kissing it until he regains his composure and faces you. 
“i think i died.” he sighs in bliss at last, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his playful remark, yelping when his finger pokes you in the side for your attitude. “better than your other side pieces, huh?” you question breathless, still worn out and tired from your previous activities. chan stares at you in pure confusion as you give him a pointed look like it’ll remind him of the girl you’d seen him with countless times at the party or outside your dorms, and it takes a while until the lightbulb in his head goes off, orbs wide before he’s bursting out in laughter. “it’s not funny, she was all over you.” you grumble at his reaction, crossing your arms across your chest.
“baby, that was just a friend’s ex who was trying to make him jealous. i barely know her.” he explains with a wide grin on his face. “although, it looks like she got to you instead.” chan chortles when you slap him lightly on the shoulder at his words, having the time of his life as you flush bright pink in embarrassment after having gotten worked up over nothing. “still, she didn’t have to call you nicknames and flirt with you.” you try and defend yourself which only makes chan shake his head before cupping your face and pressing a short kiss to your lips.
“‘m all yours, pretty girl. don’t even worry.” he reassures, eyes so full of love that it’s hard to argue against him anymore. you still choose to pout anyways, and he takes that as an invitation to lean in and push his mouth back to yours. each kiss you exchange makes you melt little by little, and by the time chan is pulling away, you’ve forgotten all about what made you mad in the first place. “so,” your ears perk up when he speaks again, and you look down to find his expression filled with slight hesitation. 
a beat of silence passes as chan struggles to find the words to say what he wants, choosing to busy himself in fiddling with the ends of your skirt that you’d failed to take off in your frenzy to claim him. you tilt your head to the side in expectance, but your eyes soften as he heaves out a breath that seems to be filled with deep emotion. instinctively, you take his hand that’s playing around with your clothes and intertwine your fingers, squeezing and dragging it up to nuzzle your face into the back of his palm lovingly in hopes it may calm him down. your little plan works, and before you can even speak up yourself to just ask what’s on his mind, chan beats you to it. 
“um, what does this make us?” he mumbles quietly, swallowing the small lump that’s forming at the back of his throat. chan doesn’t want to return to whatever it was that you guys had going on prior to what happened just now between you two, and even though you’ve both declared your feelings for one another countless times by now, it’s still unclear where everything stands, or rather where you stand. he wants you to be his, completely and fully so he can show you off to everyone, but fear gnaws him at the back of his mind that maybe that’s not quite what you want. despite what you’d said while entangled with him, he finds it hard to believe that you’d crave for the same relationship he wants, and he prays that he’ll hear the answer from you that he’s yearned for ages by now.
on the other hand, you simply blink at his words, letting them sink into your head. it’s only when they fully register that you break out into a small smile, heart sinking at how chan looks away with worry evident in his eyes. you know you’re the reason behind his reluctance to want more with you, and that it’ll take some time for him to understand your feelings are on par with his and have been for a while, or may even be further ahead at this point, but you’re more than willing to fix that, regardless of how long it takes. 
“channie,” your voice comes out soft and sweet, and chan resists the urge to tear up at the way you call his nickname with so much love. he gulps when you tilt his face to look at yours, shoulders relaxing instantly when he sees you beaming back at him. it’s insane to think how a simple happy look from you makes him feel lighter on his own feet, but with the way some of the anxiety brewing inside him seems to fade away after having gotten a glimpse of your smiling face, he thinks it’s far from implausible. 
“if it’s okay with you, and if you’ll have me once more,” you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves before saying the next of your sentence. “then, i’d love to be your girlfriend.” 
chan’s world seems to slow down at your words, the sentence you’d just uttered seeming to have cast some sort of spell on him. it’s like everything in his surroundings fades away into silent noise or sightless objects, and he can’t stop the way his mouth falls open slightly. you want to be his girlfriend? his girlfriend? you, the absolute love of his life, the one person he never thought he could have, want to be his officially? he looks up at you dumbfounded as if you’d just presented the most disbelieving offer of all time, although he supposes you kind of have done that honestly. 
“i mean, it’s fine if that’s not what you want.” your voice drags him out of his thoughts, leaving him blinking as you start to blurt out more stuff in your nervous haze. “i’m aware i behaved stupidly and pushed you away for no reason, and maybe you said everything in the heat of the moment, and now that we’re done with it all, you’ve changed your mind and want nothing to do with me, and—“
now it’s chan’s turn to cut off your rambling, his body surging forward to capture your lips with his again, and it doesn’t take long before you’re succumbing to his touch much like the previous instances you’ve melted into him, eyes slipping shut as he cradles your face in his fingers delicately. his entire hold on you is gentle, like you’re a piece of expensive china that might break if he even so as much makes a sudden move. the way he embraces you is filled with tender, all-consuming love, and you think you might start crying once more if he continues with his actions.
“is this real?” he whispers against you, still in complete shock when you nod slowly as an answer to his question, a disbelieving laugh leaving him as he shakes his head. “you’re mine now? like you, the girl of my actual dreams?” his questions have you visibly relaxing, and any and all doubt physically leaves you as you smile back at him in approval, laughing when he hugs you tightly to his chest. “i’m so fucking lucky.” chan breathes out in content, leaving you to simply bury your flustered face into his neck at the way he sounds so utterly in awe. 
“ah, wait, no.” he suddenly starts, pulling back to look at you. his curls stick messily over his eyes, and you move to brush them back under his signature hat to get a clearer look at the features of the man you’ve fallen so deep for. “i have to ask you properly to commemorate the occasion.” he purses his lips, mustering up a serious expression that basically makes you simper, far too blinded in love to even point out or make fun of how silly he’s being. because that’s just chan. your chan. 
“y/n l/n,” chan clears his throat, taking your hand in his and holding it over his rapidly beating heart which you can feel thumping under your palm. “will you do the honour of letting me be your boyfriend?” he asks, eyes twinkling when you giggle, so enamoured that you can’t resist leaning your forehead against his, nodding instantly. 
“i’d love nothing more, bang christopher chan.”
. . .
comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3
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gumify ¡ 5 months ago
Text
20/20 feat. toji fushiguro ❝ BOYFRIEND!TOJI NEEDS GLASSES ?! ❞
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now playing… blind by role model.
summary. after months of denying his deteriorating eyesight, your boyfriend finally lets you drag him to an optometrist appointment.
tags. boyfriend!toji x fem!reader, fluff, some suggestive parts, established relationship, toddler!megumi being the cutiepie that he is, boyfriend!toji being everything a man should be (hot, blind, and utterly whipped).
wc. 2.6k
note. I ❤️ NERDS
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ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤyou heard that right.
boyfriend!toji, who very clearly needs reading glasses, but would rather take his blurry ass eyesight to the grave before ever accepting it.
boyfriend!toji, who always — always — asks you to read the labels on his food for him to make sure he’s getting the right amount of protein in or whatever. (he claims the tiny letters make his head hurt, but you like to tease and blame it on his age. he never laughs.)
boyfriend!toji, who is never not squinting. it’s pretty easy to see why people think your partner’s so intimidating, considering the fact that his already daunting eyes are narrowed into slits 24/7. most people you encounter on a daily basis probably think he’s internally cursing them… not that he minds. even if he had 20/20 vision, he’d probably be glaring at them anyways.
you first notice it on a night you’re cuddled up and watching a movie with him. boyfriend!toji’s leaned into the corner of your L-shaped couch as you nestle your head against his broad, firm chest — lifting it momentarily to gawk at the devastatingly hot specimen of man currently tracing patterns down your spine with his calloused fingertips. his face is pretty much devoid of any emotion, as it usually is whenever he’s fully relaxed; but you notice his gaze deviate every once in a while from the television, his almond-shaped eyes crinkling at the corners as his jade irises go in and out of focus.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“turn the sound up, dove.” toji murmurs, too comfortable in his current position to even think about reaching for the remote. spotting the way your lips twist into a stubborn (but no less pretty, mind you) pout, he huffs. “... please.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“but ‘m too lazyyy.” you whine.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“so am iii.” he replies, kicking up the pitch of his normally husky voice to playfully match that of your protest.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“hmpf. aren’t you the man, anyways?” you counter, poking him in his pecs to emphasise your point. “all the labourful work’s on you, babe. ‘m literally just a girl.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“thought y’said we should abolish gender roles.” he drawls.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“… not this one.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“that doesn’t sound very fair.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“tojiii!” you roll your eyes, “we don’t even need to turn the volume up — jus’ read the subtitles!”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“ya’ mean the size five ass writing at the bottom of the screen?” he scoffs, “i don’t have x-ray vision, dove.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“x-ray vision wouldn’t even—” you stop yourself short, choosing to save yourself the middle school science lesson and shaking your head at your boyfriend’s antics instead. “the subtitles are perfectly visible. you just need glasses.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“wha—” he sits straight up, sounding almost offended at the accusation. “no i don’t.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“yes you do.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“no i don’t.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“yes you do.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“no i d—”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“it’s past midnight, toj’!” you tut, “last time we turned the volume up this late, we got a noise complaint, remem—”
toji cuts you off by squishing your cheeks together with his thumb and forefinger, forcing your lips into an exaggerated pucker and planting an equally dramatic mwaaah against them with his own.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“do you remember why we had to turn it up in the first place, hm?” he teases, giving you another softer peck before releasing you from his grip. “don’t think it was the movie they were complainin’ about, dove.”
ugh. he always knows how to shut you up.
you make it your life’s mission for the next week to make boyfriend!toji realise just how blind he really is. and you don’t have to do much, seeing as he only further proves your point himself.
for example, boyfriend!toji asks you how many boxes of strawberries you’d like him to pick up at the grocery store one day. too immersed in your morning reading to give him a proper reply, you hold up three fingers from across the room. he comes home with five.
boyfriend!toji misreads a sign on the highway later that weekend — which leads to him taking a wrong exit, and the two of you showing up to your fancy dinner reservation half an hour late. you end up spending date night eating mcdonald’s in the backseat of his volkswagen instead. (greeeat.)
boyfriend!toji damn near kills one of megumi’s friends who’s over for a playdate the following week. the little boy’s mother had talked his ear off at the front door about her son’s plethora of life-threatening allergies — even given him a list she’d taken upon herself to print out beforehand — and he still managed to miss the ‘MAY CONTAIN NUTS’ warning plastered on the chocolate bar in bold red lettering. if you hadn’t come to the rescue, practically diving headfirst into the living room and snatching the confectionary from the child’s grip, you imagine his mother would most definitely have the both of your heads on a platter by now. (phew.)
so boyfriend!toji finally gives in, letting you drag him along to one of your optometrist appointments for a check-up.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“this is dumb.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“just read as many letters as you can from the screen, mr. fushiguro.”
“… what is this, pre-school?”
“toji.”
the man slumps back against the optometrist’s padded chair at the sound of your voice, folding his arms across his chest and giving you a silent little hmpf before doing as he’s told.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“a, f, g, k… e, t, o, d, z… p, m, j, f, l — this is so stupid — n, r, s.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“good. now onto the next level.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“uhhh…” you watch your boyfriend’s everpresent confidence begin to falter at this stage, brows furrowing as he squints against the darkness of the small room. “m… f… c? uhhh, no — that’s an o. wait! actually — a d.”
you stifle a giggle at the scene unfolding before you, and he shoots you a warning glare.
“keep going, mr. fushiguro.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“that’s a… k… then a z…” you swear he’s just making up letters at this point, “and— the fuck, is that a hexagon?!”
with the click of a button, your optometrist fishes out a sheet of paper and slaps it down on the table next to him.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“your prescription will be ready soon.”
boyfriend!toji, who picks up his new glasses the following week — a standard rectangular pair with black frames that you helped him choose.
boyfriend!toji, who quite literally tells you to wait outside as he tries them on for the first time in your shared bedroom, locking the door behind him as if he were going into some sort of top secret mission.
boyfriend!toji, who refuses to come out for the next ten minutes.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“toji, this is ridiculous.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“i look like a fuckin’ incel!”
you give the doorknob another jiggle; yet, still, he doesn’t budge.
“unlock the damn door, fushiguro!” you huff, “i need to get ready for bed!”
a short pause.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“… fine.” you hear your boyfriend murmur. followed by the sound of his footsteps treading closer to the door, the knob turning slowly before he adds, “promise y’er not gonna laugh.”
you roll your eyes, “sure.”
and then the door peels open to reveal… well, what might just be your newest obsession.
the stark black frames do nothing to mask the stubborn blush tinting toji’s cheeks but goddamn, do they compliment the rest of his features well.
they’re not too chunky, nor too thin; just the perfect amount of thickness to emphasise the angles of that strong jawline, those prominent cheekbones, and the pair of brows almost always raised in sinister jest. his eyes also look darker, sharper — if that’s even possible — flecks of emerald in his irises brought to life by the viridescent sheen of the lens.
fuck, your boyfriend’s so hot.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“ya’ think so?”
you blink a couple times, too distracted by the man’s new look to realise you had voiced that last thought fact aloud. but if the way his subtle frown morphs into a shit-eating smirk is anything to go by, he’s most definitely caught on to the effect it has on you.
and oh, does he love it.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“cat got your tongue, dove?” toji hums, the hellish glint in his eyes magnified by the lenses. “c’mooon, say something. y’er lookin’ at me like i’m a piece of damn meat.”
it’s true.
you should be ashamed of the way you’re blatantly staring at him as if you’re a hormonal middle schooler catching a glimpse of the opposite gender for the first time — but you can’t find it in yourself to care. not when your man looks this fine. and certainly not when it’s already taking everything in you to keep your jaw from dropping onto the ground and drooling all over the place.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“still nothin’?” toji pouts mockingly. “aw, y’er breakin’ my heart here. don’t tell me my girl doesn’t want me anymore?”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“shut up, toj’.”
he pushes the glasses further up the bridge of his nose. a statement.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“or you must reaaally like ‘em, huh? got ya’ all speechless and i didn’t even do anything. but i bet you’d just looove to—”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“toji.”
he raises a brow. a challenge.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“bed. now.” you blurt out, much to the protest — or could it be encouragement? — of your own deafening pulse. you bite your lip before adding, “… n’ keep the glasses on.”
again, toji smirks. that goddamn smirk.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“yes, ma’am.”
truth be told, neither you nor boyfriend!toji could have anticipated the effects of a pair of measly glasses. (five rounds, then another two in the shower, actually.) but one thing’s for certain — now, he wears them around with a newfound pride.
the first time boyfriend!toji comes home from a particularly challenging job not only battered and bruised, but battered and bruised in his equally damaged glasses, your eyeballs almost pop out of their fuckin’ sockets. he stands in the doorway with his chest heaving; one of the lenses of his glasses cracked; slashes of crimson adorning his brow, cheek, and even that signature scar decorating his now-bloody lips. you have no idea whether to feel concerned, or truly deplorable amounts of turned on — probably a little bit of both. and that you most definitely are.
when boyfriend!toji lets you pick out his outfit for dinner at your parents’ house, you’re practically bouncing off the walls in excitement. you land on a safe option — a creamy knit sweater that hugs his muscular build oh-so deliciously, paired with some black slacks and, of course, his glasses. he looks so… sophisticated like this, you think. so handsome. you can barely keep your eyes off him for more than two seconds as he helps your father clear the table and converses with your mother over a glass of merlot.
and don’t even get you started on megumi’s recently developed habit of climbing atop boyfriend!toji’s lap to toy with the frames in his lil’ hands. the sight alone is enough to make you melt — every. single. time. and even more so when the kid decides to steal the glasses off of his father to wonkily place them on himself, giving you a gap-toothed grin across the room as you feel your heart swell at the uncanny resemblance.
see, these are only some of the very many reasons you happen to love boyfriend!toji’s new at-home look… though for him, it all comes down to one thing.
boyfriend!toji comes to this epiphany a couple of weeks after his first trip to the optometrist. megumi’s sleeping over at a friend’s place, so you and him decided to make the most out of the free night. namely, by hitting a swanky new speakeasy in town and letting loose for once in a blue moon.
alas, boyfriend!toji’s not the drinker he used to be — which means you’re nursing the man back home after no more than three and a half whiskey highballs at the ripe ol' time of 10pm.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“fuuuck, my head’s spinnin’.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“ya’ big baby.” you tease, earning a distasted scowl from your boyfriend. “okay, okay - where are your glasses? ‘s not helping that you can’t see straight enough sober.”
toji barely manages an “mph.” in reply, murmuring something that vaguely sounds like “— bedroom… top drawer…” before slumping against the couch like a giant ragdoll.
by the time you return with his glasses in hand, he’s still letting out tipsy grumbles into the empty air. drama queen, you think, walking up ‘til you’re right in front of him and bending down to meet him at eye-level from his position on the couch to slide them into place yourself.
your heart does the usual thing it does whenever you see toji in his glasses — or toji at all, for that matter — and the way he’s looking at you through his thick lashes and heavy-lidded gaze isn’t helping.
immediately, something clicks.
toji’s eyes widen enough behind the lenses for you to see his pupils dilate, and before you know it, he’s got your face cradled in his hands.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“toj’—”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“my god, woman…”
he’s nothing short of mystified. your brows knit in confusion at his sudden change in demeanour, but he’s too lost in his own mind — in you — to offer any sort of explanation.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“have you always been this pretty?”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“w— what?”
you’re unable to suppress the giggle forming in your chest at toji’s words, but he’s being dead serious. you cock your head to the side ever so slightly and he gifts you with a light peck on the corner of your lips.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“i mean it.” he says so sincerely it almost makes you wonder what the fuck has gotten into him. (most probably the highballs, but you digress.)
he doesn’t even look tipsy anymore. well, not on the alcohol, at least. he pushes his glasses to the bridge of his nose, the stare framed oh-so prettily behind them now beyond blown out. his hands are so big yet so gentle; able to ghost the slopes of your facial features with his thumbs whilst still keeping your face still and focussed on him at the same time.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“y’make me feel so lucky, dove…”
you start to shy away under the intensity of it all, but toji doesn’t let up. his eyes are everywhere — it’s as if he’s searching for something; or, better yet, memorising it.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen…”
it’s been too long since he’s gotten a chance to look at you; really look at you — the subtle beauty marks that sprinkle your skin, the lines decorating the outer corners of your pretty eyes and lips that serve as a testament of all the times he’s made you smile, and all the other tiny details that make you… well, you — in all of your 20/20 glory.
it always feels like the first time.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“i love you s’much, my beautiful girl.” he kisses the words into your skin, each one as reverent as the last. “never forget it.”
boyfriend!toji, who makes sure to get his eyes checked at least twice a year now — because there’s no chance in hell he’s letting himself miss out on any of this again. ㅤ
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Š GUMIFY 2024 do not steal, replicate, or modify my work.
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muniimyg ¡ 1 month ago
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♡ extra: a little fade out?
series m.list // taglist
note: stop !!! cos like ,, why did i get teary eyed writing this LOL ... enj this little extra </3 it's their first fight/fluff/slight angst vibe as a new couple !!! mwaaaa
//
jungkook might lose his mind.
you’re walking toward him, weaving through the crowded tables of the bustling café near campus. it’s the type of place everyone on campus flocks to between classes. it’s almost always way too loud, perpetually short on seats, and forever smelling of coffee and fries.
his friends—jaehyun, dokyeom, and hoshi—are already mid-conversation about some chemical compound’s absurd reaction time when jungkook notices you. instantly, he freezes.
his grip tightens on the edge of his chair as you spot him and wave, your smile wide and radiant.
god, you’re the prettiest thing he has ever had. 
when you reach their table, you drop your bag onto the empty seat beside jungkook’s, and lean down to greet him. your hand brushes his shoulder, lingering a second longer than needed. what can you say? 
you missed him and it’s been a long day.
“hey, baby,” you say softly, your voice just for him before turning to his friends. “hi, guys!”
jungkook mumbles a “hey” back, his hand barely grazing your arm before he drops it. the faintest pink rises to his ears, though, and jaehyun catches it immediately, smirking.
“... and you must be the girlfriend,” jaehyun says, leaning back in his seat as he takes you in. “shit, you are pretty.”
“shut up,” jungkook hisses.
the guys chuckle at jungkook’s instant reaction. 
“that’s me,” you say with a laugh, sliding into your seat. “and you’re the nerds, huh? jungkook talks about you all the time.”
“wish we could say the same about you,” dokyeom says with a sigh. “we had to beg him to let us meet you. don’t get why he’s gatekeeping you for… i mean, you guys have been together for a month—officially i mean. we heard all about the slow burn and him being an asshole—”
“shut up—”
“we’d like to apologize on his behalf, by the way,” jaehyun interrupts. “as nerd alchemists, we tend to suck at the whole… romance part of life.” 
“that’s okay. we’re happy and together now, right? that’s all that matters.” you say, turning to jungkook with a sweet smile. he nods in agreement. “also! nerd alchemists? hilarious.”
“or ‘genius goofs,’” hoshi adds, “but only on the bad days.”
“genius goofs who almost melted the lab last semester,” jaehyun cuts in with a snort.
“hey, that was one time,” hoshi protests before pouting, recalling the slightly traumatic memory. he huffs, “... fuck you. it wasn’t my fault.” 
“not entirely your fault,” jungkook corrects.
you laugh, genuinely amused, as you settle in closer to jungkook’s side. 
“i like them,” you say, nudging him.
“yeah?” jungkook asks, nudging you back. “i don’t. thinking of getting rid of them—”
“oh! really?” you gasp. “can i have them then?”
the guys stop themselves from bursting into laughter. you’re quick with it and it obviously throws jungkook and his stone-cold mood off… it’s right then and there where they all see it—how good you are for him. how good he has it to be with you.
“she’s funny,” jaehyun remarks, elbowing jungkook. “good choice, man.”
jungkook shrugs, the corners of his lips twitching as if fighting a smile. “yeah, she’s alright.”
“alright?” you repeat, narrowing your eyes at him with mock offense. “that’s all i am to you? you’re one to talk about being alright… what do you even have to offer me?”
“free tutoring,” hoshi deadpans, making everyone laugh.
as lunch continues, the vibe is easy. the conversation between everyone flows with teasing jokes and the occasional detour into more chemistry talk that you don’t fully understand but pretend to. it’s nice to be in jungkook’s world. it makes you feel like you’re getting to know him a little better and that’s all you really want… more of him. 
as you wait for the food to arrive, you reach for jungkook’s hand under the table, lacing your fingers through his. for a moment, he lets it happen. his thumb brushing yours absently before he pulls away to grab his water.
“here,” he says casually, pushing the glass toward you.
you blink, caught off guard, but take the glass with a polite smile. “thanks.”
jaehyun leans forward, clearly amused. “so, how is he as a boyfriend? still the golden boy, or is the shine starting to fade?”
you grin, playing along. “oh, he’s great. sweet, smart, cute when he wants to be… which isn’t often… ” you glance sideways at him. “terrible at pda, though.”
jungkook blinks at you.
dokyeom snickers. “shit. classic jungkook. wouldn’t want to ruin the whole nonchalant-genius vibe, right?”
jungkook doesn’t respond, just gives a half-smile as he takes a sip of his drink.
you laugh lightly, but something about his reaction sits heavy in your chest. you keep the conversation going with the group, but the warmth from earlier feels a little dimmed now.
jungkook might lose his mind?
no.
but maybe you might.
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after lunch with the nerds, you and jungkook head back to his place.
when you arrive, the guys are already sprawled out in the living room, half-buried in blankets and pillows. the plan? a casual disney movie marathon, an excuse for everyone to lounge around and argue over animated villains.
you settle on the couch next to jungkook, close enough that your thigh presses against his, and his arm is loosely draped along the backrest behind you. it’s not nothing, but the space between how you’re sitting and how you want to be sitting feels like miles.
you try to close the distance, leaning into him as the opening scene of the lion king plays, but jungkook barely reacts. he’s relaxed, sure—his legs stretched out in front of him and his eyes glued to the screen—but it’s like he doesn’t even notice the way you’re resting your cheek on his shoulder.
“are you mad at me?”
jungkook shifts, tilting his head down to meet your eyes. “no, i’m not. why?”
“feels like you are.”
“i’m not,” he tells you softly. “did i do something?”
you shrug. “i don’t know… did i do something?”
jungkook shakes his head. “no. you okay, ___?”
baby. 
call me baby, please.
you nod, lips tight, and turn back to the movie. jungkook doesn’t think twice about it. 
meanwhile, the others are already engrossed in their usual back-and-forth.
“oh, come on,” taehyung groans from across the room, his hand halfway into the popcorn bowl. “you guys have to agree with me. scar is fucking gaston in another universe. it’s so obvious!”
“that makes literally no sense. gaston doesn’t have a scar on his face!” jin deadpans, tossing a handful of popcorn in taehyung’s direction.
you laugh softly, trying to join in. “i mean… he’s not wrong.”
jungkook doesn’t even glance at you.
you shift, sliding your hand into his lap and letting your fingers brush against his knee. maybe this will get his attention—a tiny spark of acknowledgment. instead, he shifts slightly, just enough that you pull away, sinking into the couch with your heart dipping into your stomach.
taehyung catches it, his smirk practically a reflex. 
“yah, jungkook… seriously?” he says, looking between you and jungkook. “are you two even dating? what the fuck was that?”
“what was what?” jungkook asks.
taehyung rolls his eyes. “you know what you just did. look at your girlfriend—if i can even call ehr that—she’s clearly upset at you.”
jungkook laughs it off like it’s nothing, his expression is calm as ever. 
“we’re dating,” jungkook says, voice casual, like it’s obvious.
but you’re not laughing. 
and taehyung is right.
you are upset. 
your chest feels tight because fuck. every touch you’ve tried today has been shrugged off, and taehyung’s words cut a little deeper than you want to admit. you force a smile, your fingers twisting at the hem of your sleeve.
“whatever,” taehyung gives up. 
then, just like that… you feel alone again. like no one sees you again. 
like he doesn’t see you. 
the others keep talking, diving into some tangent about villains in disney sequels, but the warmth you’ve been chasing all day feels impossibly far away.
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it’s late by the time the movie marathon wraps up. 
one by one, everyone begins to surrender to their tiredness. the once lively room is now quiet, save for the rustle of blankets and yawns. jin and namjoon head upstairs to their rooms, while taehyung and yoongi mumble something about doing the dishes before heading to bed. jimin and hobi headed out early to sleep over at their girlfriends. meanwhile, jungkook, still half-reclined on the couch next to you, looks like he’s one blink away from passing out.
his head dips once, then twice. 
his lashes fluttering as his hand absently brushes against your thigh. you watch him for a moment, your chest tightening with a mix of affection and frustration.
today has not been the best day with him.
you can’t quite put the finger on why he’s so fucking infuriating today… maybe your period is coming or maybe he truly is just a fucking idiot. 
when his head finally droops forward, you carefully slip away, untangling yourself from the blanket and his loose grip. his brows furrow slightly, but he doesn’t wake. you head to the entryway, grab your jacket, and slip your arms through the sleeves with slow, deliberate movements.
the door creaks slightly as you reach for your shoes, and that’s when you hear him.
“hey.”
you glance up to see jungkook standing there, rubbing at his eyes, his hair a soft, messy halo around his head. his voice is low, a little groggy, but there’s an edge of concern in it.
“where are you going?” he asks, padding toward you with bare feet.
“home,” you reply, your tone light but clipped as you tug the zipper of your jacket up. “you were out cold, and it’s late. figured i’d let you sleep.”
“hey, hey, hey.” his voice softens, and before you can move away, his hands find your waist, gently pulling you back toward him. “what’s this about?”
you keep your gaze fixed on the door, refusing to look at him. 
“nothing. i just thought it’d be better if i went home.”
jungkook leans in, his arms sliding around you fully now, and his forehead dips to rest against your shoulder. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. 
“you said you were staying the night.”
you inhale sharply, willing yourself not to get so sensitive about this. god, what are you even mad about? actually, no. what are you not mad about? 
“i did, didn’t i?”
“yeah,” he murmurs, his voice almost pleading. “it’s our one-month tomorrow…”
“right,” you pull back slightly, just enough to look at him. “hey, do you think we should just break up? we can do that, you know. it’s only a month in anyway and—”
his hold on you tightens instantly. 
“what?” he stares at you, the grogginess fading from his eyes as they widen in alarm. “why would you say something like that? that’s not funny.” 
“i’m not trying to be funny,” you say, attempting to sound stern. you don’t though. if anything, you just sound defeated. 
“i’m not following…” jungkook says, beginning to feel a burn in his chest. “why do you wanna break up with me? do you not want to be with me anymore? i swear, i thought i was making you happy. aren’t we happy—”
“it’s fine. like, if you want to break up we can do it now. we haven’t even had sex yet and so this would be less attachment to our relationship. we can still be friends—”
“don’t,” jungkook hisses. “don’t start with your psych bullshit. ___, friends? we’re horibale at that, remember? fuck, ___… and who said anything about sex? i said i’d wait. i said it doesn’t matter if you want to wait for marriage or do it tomorrow. do what you want with it, okay? it’s yours. it’s completely yours… and so am i. me being your boyfriend has nothing to do with wanting to fuck you—okay. wait. yeah, okay, fine. it does a little but it’s not why i’m with you.”
“oh,” you murmur. “right. you’re my boyfriend.”
he doesn’t say anything right away, but the way his hands stay steady on your waist makes you feel like maybe he’s finally listening.
jungkook’s eyes narrow at the sarcasm that drips from your words, and his lips curl into a frown. he steps closer to you, eyes searching yours. 
“what the fuck does that mean?”
your lips tremble as you meet his gaze, the weight of everything you’ve been holding back pressing down on you. it feels like your heart is going to burst. 
"it doesn’t even feel like we’re dating, jungkook," your voice barely above a whisper. yet, you can tell by the way his body stiffens that he heard every word loudly. 
for a moment, there’s only silence. 
jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your jacket as he pulls you closer, not hard, but just enough that you can feel the warmth of him against you. his brows draw together, eyes searching your face for some kind of explanation, but he doesn’t speak.
you feel the space between you and him—how close you are, how far apart you feel.
you resist for a moment, but the way his hands settle on you—secure and soft—makes it hard to stay distant. still, your mind is racing, the thoughts bubbling up, ready to spill over.
“why’d you drop my hand today?” you ask, voice tight. “why didn’t you hold it? why didn’t you touch me during the movie? i was leaning into you the whole time, and you didn’t even—didn’t even notice.”
“i noticed.”
you pull away slightly, just enough to see his face, and you’re almost surprised to see the guilt flicker in his eyes. he opens his mouth, but no words come out at first, and then you take a shaky breath, your eyes filling with tears.
“yeah, you did… and then you shifted away. taehyung noticed that,” you continue, your voice breaking, “he saw it... you didn’t even care, did you?”
“i do care.”
“not enough then,” you whimper. “j-jungkook…”
then, the tears start to fall, and you feel them. 
hot and frustrated. 
your tears slip down your cheeks as you look up at him. your fists are clenched and before you even realize it, you’re hitting his chest with your palms.
“you’re such a bad boyfriend,” you whisper, the emotion bursting from you all at once. “just break up with me if you’re gonna be a bad boyfriend!”
jungkook doesn’t pull away.
he lets you hit him, one, two, three times, his chest soft under your hands. and then he gently grabs your wrists, holding them, but not in a way that feels forceful—more like he’s trying to soothe you—to ground you.
“i didn’t mean to,” he says softly, his voice laced with regret, pulling you back to him. 
he wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you close, as if trying to keep you from falling apart. his forehead rests against yours, and he murmurs softly.
“i’m sorry,” he says.
you bury your face in his chest, taking a shaky breath. 
jungkook’s arms tighten around you, holding you like he never wants to let go. you feel the warmth of his embrace, but the words spill out before you can stop them.
“it’s just... it’s hard when you’re... like that around other people. you know?” you murmur. “it’s like... i try so hard to make you feel loved and important, and you just don’t—don’t react the way i want you to.”
he’s quiet for a long time, just holding you, and you feel his chest rise and fall with every breath. when he speaks again, it’s softer, raw, like he’s letting the truth spill out too.
“it’s hard for me too,” he says, his voice tight with vulnerability. “being with you... i want to be everything you need. but i can’t always figure out how to do it, especially when we’re in public, around my friends. it’s like... i don’t want to look stupid. i don’t want to mess things up, and... i’m not used to feeling like this. like you’re... you’re all-consuming, and i can’t control it.”
you pull back slightly, looking up at him, your heart beating louder in your chest. jungkook’s eyes are full of something you haven’t seen before—rawness, honesty.
“i’m sorry,” he says again, this time more quietly. “i didn’t mean to make you feel like this, ___... i swear to god, i didn’t.” he runs a hand over his face in frustration. “i know i was… distant. but it’s not because i don’t care about you. it’s not because i was intentionally trying to be an asshole—”
“why do you act like this around your friends? like i’m some kind of... afterthought?”
he doesn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes fixed on yours as if trying to find the right words. but it’s almost like he’s been waiting for this moment, for you to finally say everything he’s been too afraid to face.
“honestly? when we’re around my friends, i get this... i get this weird feeling, like i’m not good enough for you. like you’re too… perfect. you’re out of my league, to be completely honest… and i don’t know how to handle it. like i said… it’s like you’re taking over my life and i can’t control it. it’s unfamiliar to me, you know? not having control over how i feel and how things go... so i guess… i guess i push you away and i drop your hand when i shouldn’t… when i don’t even want to.”
you can feel the sincerity in his words, and for a second, the tears that had been threatening to spill fall freely. he’s so open, so raw, and it makes your heart ache.
“i’m sorry, baby,” he continues, his voice thick with emotion. “i won’t ever do that ever again, okay? i want to be the boyfriend you deserve. i want to show you how much i care about you, how much i really, really fucking like you. i’m really sorry i made you feel this way.”
you swallow hard, trying to make sense of it all. 
it’s overwhelming, but it feels like he’s finally seeing you, really seeing you for the first time. as you compose yourself, jungkook takes this opportunity. 
“so... can you take it back?” he asks, his voice hesitant. “please don’t break up with me.”
you sniff, wiping your face with the back of your hand, still unsure of everything. your heart still aches, but it’s a little less painful now. you look at him through watery eyes, and a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips.
“okay,” you murmur, your voice still a little shaky. “but you have to be more obsessed with me, okay? or else i’m really dumping you. got it?”
“got it.”
jungkook chuckles, a soft, relieved sound, and he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head before pulling off your jacket. he tosses it carelessly to the side, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a second longer than necessary, as if to keep you close.
“let’s go to bed. i’m sleepy... and i missed you all day,” he says, his voice low and warm, his hand now sliding down your arm to gently wrap around your wrist, giving it a soft tug. you let out a laugh, shaking your head as he starts to pull you toward the stairs.
“we were together all day, nerd,” you tease, looking up at him with a playful smile.
he groans dramatically, letting his head fall back with a long, exaggerated sigh. you can’t help but smile at the sight of him, so vulnerable and sweet in these moments.
“oh… i know,” he groans. “see what i mean? i sound ridiculous. baby, i miss you even when i’m with you.”
then, he’s pulling you closer. his fingers curl around your hand as his other arm slips around your waist, holding you snugly to his side.
his words hang in the air between you two, and it’s clear he’s not just saying it—he means it.
the way he holds you as he leads you upstairs, his gaze soft yet full of affection, is all the confirmation you need.
the way you two slip into bed and he wraps his body around you, breathing you in like you're his only source of air... it's what you've been craving for all day.
you two fall asleep tangled in each others embrace.
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when you wake up the next day, you wake up to 30 individual flowers in small vases spread around his bedroom—one for each day you’ve been together.
jungkook kisses you good morning and holds you by the waist going downstairs. he's giggling into your skin, talking about how pretty you are. 
during breakfast with the guys, he holds your hand over the table. 
everyone rolls their eyes, dumbfounded by the pda… 
except you, of course. 
your eyes are completely on jungkook.
821 notes ¡ View notes
parfaitblogs ¡ 6 months ago
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ive got quite a few... but we will start off simple and with something ive been DAYDREAMING about for a while
so reader is a new forensic scientist that started a lab in office for easier analysis of evidence (garcia reasonablism and best friendedness obviously) and earlier seasons reid likes to go in and hang out with her often and just be with her and they are both idiots in love and the first kiss is super rushed and akward; TEETH ROTTING FLUFF
i am too cryptic i fear but i will sell my left kidney for this fic PLEASE
spencer reid x forensic scientist!reader. fluff. 1.4k words. s1 spence!! descriptions of a case (typical cm stuff). std discussion? sorta? it's about a victim. reader doesn't have one don't worry. they're nerds your honour. 
a/n: i am SO sorry this took me so long?? writing fluff is not my strong suit (clearly). i researched bacteria for this fic. and std's. if penelope garcia looked up my search history she would ask why i'm asking about how to treat chlamydia. if the science talk is wrong, no it's not this is MY alternate reality. also i am but a wee acting major i know nothing about science? ANYWAYS thank u for the request angel it was so fun to write i hope i did it justice ♡ 
"Hey... I brought coffee."
Your head lifted from the computer screen you had been staring at for the past hour and a half, blinking your eyes to readjust to a light that wasn't blue — you were a big believer in warm toned overhead lights or nothing, and it was your first order of business upon getting a lab in the Quantico building. 
Your eyes softened upon recognising the man in your doorway, and your hands outstretched towards him to take the paper cup from him. 
It was a particularly gruelling case — a man putting victims through a meat grinder (charmingly so) meant your ability to positively ID victims based on... well, anything you'd usually ID them on, was out of the question. You were down to tampered with blood samples, and you were getting nothing. 
"Angel. Sent from heaven, I swear," you said, taking a sip of the warm, sweet (because anybody who drinks coffee black should be locked up) beverage that would help you in the long run. Spencer Reid's lips twitched into a smile — anxious, like the rest of him usually is whenever he's in your lab — and he dropped his gaze to the floor with a small shrug. 
"I thought you might need it. I know it's hard. This case," he said, and you nodded your head with an affirming nod.
"Tell me about it," you mumbled, spinning around in your chair, back to your computer, waving him over. "See this?" you pointed to the list of findings in one of the samples.
Your breathing hitched when you felt him behind you, not expecting him to be so close, his own breath audible by your ear. 
He hummed quietly as he read through the list, and you turned your head to the side to look at him. His lips were pulled into a frown as you watched him register everything — and God, was he pretty. "Yeah... Salmonella, Enteritidis, Listeria... they're all bacteria you can find in chicken. Raw chicken, to be precise. Did they send you chicken blood by mistake?" 
"That's what I thought," you said, snapping out of your Reid-induced-haze, and clicked at your computer until you pulled up another list. "But then I found these as well; Streptococcus mutans, Porphyromonas gingivalis, Fusobacterium and Lactobacillus. From the same sample. And I cross-checked it with all of them, and they're all like that. So I sent that to Garcia and asked if she could do some looking into butcher shops in the area, and she came up empty. So now I'm at a loss."
"Weird," he murmured, leaning further forward over your shoulder to stare at the screen a little more intently, and you found your breath hitching at it. Again.
"What do you see?"
"Chlamydia trachomatis."
"Oh. Yeah, all of the samples have it," you explained, and he nodded his head, before turning it to look at you. 
"Well, what do you do when you have a sexually transmitted disease?" he asked.
"Me? I don't—I don't know. I've never had a—" you cut yourself off when you saw his lips twitch into a smile, and your brain caught up with what he had just said, and your lips parted in an 'o' shape in realisation. "You'd go to your doctor."
"And if they all have it, then that means that—"
"—it's the UnSub whose got it," you cut him off, eyes lighting up as you sat up straighter. "Oh my God, I don't know how I didn't make that connection. Spencer Reid I need to reiterate that you are an angel sent from the heaven above, I could kiss you."
His eyes went wide, and his entire being froze, followed swiftly by you yourself freezing too, words you let spill past your lips registering a second too late. 
He stared at you. You stared at him. It was an awkward game of who would look away first, and it went on for hour long minutes. You needed to clear your throat but refused to, your lips opening and closing as you searched your brain for something — anything — to say to break up this tension.
"Are you serious?"
It was a meek whisper, and had you not been so hyper focussed on his lips, you probably would've missed it. You forced your gaze up to his eyes, catching the red tinge on his cheeks, mirroring your own. You decided if the one in a billion chance of a black hole swallowing the earth decided to happen now, you wouldn't complain.
"I mean, no," you force past your lips. A sentence you soon sorely regret when you watch a flicker of what you recognise to be hurt flash across his face. Maybe your brain made that expression up. Maybe it didn't. If it did, it was too late to consider that option, because you were already rambling again. "Unless you want me to be serious. In which case yes, I am totally serious. If not, then I'm not."
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and an embarrassingly nervous laugh left your lips. 
"Yes. I'm serious," you finalised. Because at least if he found that embarrassing and didn't feel the same back, you could kick him out of your lab and avoid him until you manage to swap units. Or move halfway across the world. Whichever came first.
Neither needed to come first, it seemed. Because his tense body shifted, turning to face you, his own eyes seemingly locked on your lips, the same way yours were only minutes prior. 
"Is it okay if I..." he trailed off, a hesitant hand reaching up to your face, waiting for your confirming nod before his fingertips relaxed on your cheek. You weren't even kissing him yet, and you already felt that nervous-excited mix pooling in your stomach.
He was in the same boat as you, his own breathing hitching when you didn't pull away instantly from his touch. But then he simply stared at you, for maybe a minute too long, because an exasperated sigh left your lips before you could stop it.
"You know, you actually have to put your lips on mine to kiss, Spencer," you say, and though your intent wasn't to fluster him, you did. 
"Yes, I—um, I know. I've just never... what if I screw this up?" he stammered, and your lips pulled into a smile. 
"Worst thing you can do is be a bad kisser."
"That's embarrassing."
"Just a little," you agreed with a nod, watching his face fall, and you laughed at the expression. "I'm kidding. It's not that hard, and you're good at everything."
"Not this."
"You don't know that."
He fell silent, and you knew you had won the verbal argument — he was certainly still disagreeing in his mind, but he was always good at picking his battles. 
But you knew he was never going to kiss you first. Not when one hand was flexing weirdly by his waist, unsure of what to do with it, and he was so awkwardly holding one cheek with the other. 
It was the only reason why you placed two palms on his own cheeks and pulled his face towards you. He let out a shocked yelp that had you laughing for only a second, cutting the sound off short with your lips on his. 
Spencer Reid was in fact good at everything. 
He was hesitant at first, and you wondered if he was ever going to kiss you back. But he did, and then you wondered if he was lying about never kissing anybody before.
Because he was insanely good, and the way he kissed you was maddening and addictive and it seemed you were (addictive) as well, for he was chasing your lips even when you tried to pull away. So you didn't, and instead allowed him to keep kissing you with so much pace and force you thought you'd break. 
"Spence... can't... breathe," you gasped out, and he pulled back in an instant, his eyes going wide. 
He was stammering out apologies that fell on deaf ears, because you were staring at him and he was gorgeous. In every sense of the word. With hair that had fallen into his glassy eyes, cheeks as pink as his lips that were screaming to be kissed again, need for oxygen be damned. 
And actually, if the one in a billion chance of a black hole swallowing the earth decided to happen now, you would complain. Very loudly.
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡
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bluesidez ¡ 6 months ago
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Gym Rat Miguel Part 11 | chapter on AO3 for easier scrolling
content warning: fluff, some hurt/comfort?? angst??? bittersweet moments???, recreational use of zaza, some nerd talk, 18+ so MDNI, p in v sex (first time 😗)
word count: 10.1k, halfway proofread (don't ask me NOTHING...)
shout out to @hyjionie and @hwasoup for one of the ideas here! 😗 you guys will know it when you see it!
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GymRat!Miguel whose mom was driving him crazy. The flight for New York was at 7 am and somehow she was up running around the house at 2 am.
“Miguel! Get up, we have to go. Now!”
“Ma, no one is even driving on the road right at this hour. There's no traffic."
"Which is why you need to get up and move. You know Gabriel takes forever. Get up!"
GymRat!Miguel who groggily put on his clothes. It was the hoodie you got for him for Christmas with the doodle of the two of you on the front. If he was going to be stuck in the airport for hours, he might as well be comfortable.
GymRat!Miguel who looked made sure that his laptop was loaded with things to do.
He could catch up on shows he knew you watched so that you could have someone to rant to about them. He could listen to that one podcast you mentioned just because you mentioned it. He could read that one manga you were raving about because he was not going to compete with fictional men, and maybe, he could steal ideas from it.
GymRat!Miguel who went to wake up Gabriel before their mom's voice pierced both of their ears again.
He opened the door to see Gabriel staring bug-eyed at his wall while he ate a bowl of cereal.
“Did you go to sleep?” Miguel asked, closing the door and walking closer.
“No,” Gabriel said. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Miguel ran his hand over his hair, curly strands bouncing back, “Promise me you’ll try to sleep on the plane?”
Gabriel took his bowl to his mouth, slurping up the last drops, “Only if the voices let me.”
“Right,” Miguel says then takes his bowl from him. “Maybe you can have a conversation with them right now.”
“And maybe I will!”
GymRat!Miguel who stares at the bags his dad has stuffed into the trunk with awe. 
“Pa, you know we’ll only be there for three days, right?”
George presses against the trunk with a little more force than needed, “You never know what could happen, mijo.”
GymRat!Miguel whose bones shake with exhaustion as he stares out the window on the way to the airport. Maybe it’s due to the lack of sun, but he’s never felt a cold summer night. 
GymRat!Miguel who sighs as his dad argues with the staff over a suitcase that Miguel knew would be too heavy. He’s not even sure what his dad has in there.
GymRat!Miguel who thinks that TSA is having a field day despite his family being one of the few coming in at this hour. 
The man in front of him was taking way too long to pat him down and he got the hint was Miguel scowled at him.
GymRat!Miguel who had about four hours to kill before the plane came, so he decided to walk around the airport with Gabriel and pretend like they were a spoiled set of twins shopping casually in France.
“What do you think about this, Mimi? A little chic, no?” Gabriel held up a Gucci scarf to his green hoodie. 
Miguel stuck his nose up, “No, Bribri, it’s so yesterday.”
“Ugh,” Gabriel put the scarf back like it was on fire, “You’re so right. Thank god you’re here or I’d be so lost!”
GymRat!Miguel who feels like he’s back at home with Gabriel as they try their best to avoid the luxury brand store staff. Every time one would get close, they would giggle and rush out of the store. 
GymRat!Miguel and Gabriel who crash back at their terminal with enough food to feed a family of five. 
“What is all of this?” Conchata asks as Miguel hands her a coffee, a frustrated look on her face.
“Ma, it’s almost the crack of dawn and we’re hungry. Big boys gotta eat,” Gabriel said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
George reached in one of the bags and grabbed a sausage sandwich, “He’s right, Conchata. We can’t survive on two bites.”
Conchata eyed her three boys with her arms crossed, “All of it better be finished and I don’t want to hear one complaint about your stomachs.”
Miguel just snickered. It’s not like she bought the food anyway.
GymRat!Miguel who is watching an older couple meditate at his terminal as the sun begins to rise. 
“Yo,” Gabriel says. “That looks relaxing as hell. I’ma join them.”
GymRat!Miguel who is wheezing as he watches Gabriel plant himself between them to spread his arms and breathe at deep paces.
GymRat!Miguel who is thankful that his parents bought better-than-Economy seats, but that still didn’t stop any of the O’Hara boys from feeling like they were in one of those miniature museums. 
Both his dad and Gabriel were already tall, but Miguel was more than tall with a heavier body to match. If another compartment almost smacks him in the face, he might lose it.
GymRat!Miguel who takes off his headphones when Gabriel grips his arm.
“The voices,” Gabriel whispers. “The voices are here.”
“Are we doing this the whole flight?”
“Miguel, what if they tell me to do something drastic?”
Miguel looked to the window next to Gabriel and then up to the ceiling, “Three hours.”
“Three hours in which my brain could be infiltrated!”
“I’m closing my eyes, Gabri.”
“But-”
“Closing!”
GymRat!Miguel who used the flight to catch up on sleep and listen to the playlist you made for him. You gifted it to him earlier this month and said it would grow more and more. Miguel loved it because it showed that you were thinking about him, daydreaming about him. It also meant that he could connect to you more. 
No sound of crying babies, no smell of the artificial air packed tight, no light from overhead, just you and him in his mind, dancing on clouds. 
His heart felt like it followed the tempo of each song that played, the words and melodies taking over his mind. 
GymRat!Miguel whose mind wanders by the time the second half of the playlist starts. It was sensual and intimate in a way that passed the sticky sweetness of the first half. 
He was thinking about the nights when it was just the two of you and a bed. He could feel your body tangled with his in the sheets and your eyes piercing his skin. He could see you in front of him as the music played, the words glowing on your skin and the harmonies bounding you to him.
GymRat!Miguel who is yanked out of his fantasy of him pressing you up against a wall when his body jerks from the turbulence. 
He opens his eyes to see Gabriel knocked out and not a clue in the world.
GymRat!Miguel who is always reminded how idiotic people can be at the airport. 
Standing in the aisles is not going to make the people in the front move any faster.
GymRat!Miguel who could finally stretch his legs once he exits the terminal.
“If I get on another plane where a kids stares back at me the entire flight again, I’m going to spin my head like an owl,” Gabriel mumbles as he cracks his neck.
GymRat!Miguel who has a time laughing at his dad slowly losing his mind. 
First, he complained because his fabric luggage was lopsided and twisted from its buckled components, extra bag barely hanging on. 
Second, a wheel on his luggage was a few more spins from giving out. Every time the bag would skirt across the shining floors of the airport, George would grunt in frustration and yank it back. Gabriel almost pissed himself leaning onto Miguel from laughing. 
Third, the ride to the hotel almost gave him a heart attack. The cabs in New York were fast and no-nonsense when it came to getting people to their destinations. The cab drivers were also known to bob and weave into lanes like it was nothing. At every switch of a lane, George was mumbling prayers into the air. 
Conchata kept a hand on his shoulder as best as she could from the middle back seat, but George’s grip on the handle was turning white as he tried his best not to yell into the driver’s ear. Gabriel was filming him from the left side, wheezing like it was the funniest thing in the world. 
GymRat!Miguel who dropped his stuff off, took a nap, and used the rest of the afternoon to walk around Times Square. 
“You refused to go to a Broadway show with me but mark my words, you’re going to one with me before the year is over,” Gabriel pointed his finger at Miguel. 
“Unfortunately.”
GymRat!Miguel who watches as Gabriel dance battles with the random people in costumes in Times Square when they try to heckle him. 
At first, Miguel was worried for him trying to navigate such a bustling place, but there are moments like this that show him that his little brother has always been quick on his feet. His little brother was light years ahead of him in so many aspects and he couldn’t be prouder. 
GymRat!Miguel who probably filled his phone with more pictures and videos of Gabriel experiencing New York for the first time than were necessary. 
He couldn’t help it. His baby brother was soaring.
GymRat!Miguel who sends you places that he wants to visit with you. 
Envisioning you in his hoodie or with a fluffy, long scarf and walking down the sidewalk hand-in-hand with you had him excited to see you again. You would shine so brightly under the Christmas lights.
GymRat!Miguel who didn’t get back to the hotel with Gabriel until the evening. His parents both snoring in the room across the hall. 
GymRat!Miguel who still manages to get up early enough to hit the hotel gym before he and his family go tackle Gabriel’s dorm room. 
GymRat!Miguel who feels like the only other lady in the gym is trying her best to follow everything that he does. 
So much room in the tiny cube of a gym that they’re in and she moves to wherever he is after five minutes. 
GymRat!Miguel who is annoyed when she taps him in the middle of his set. He removes one ear of his headphones and tries his best to stop the disgusted look on his face from forming. 
“Hey! Sorry, I was wondering if I could use this machine! I’m kind of in a hurry.”
“After I finish this set,” she jerks back at that. “I’m using it right now.”
“Well, I just thought that-”
“Ma’am.”
“I’m 22! Don’t call me ma’am.”
Miguel’s eyebrows went up. He could hear Gabriel in the center of his mind calling her a “hard 22,” so he just put his headphones back on and continued to work through his set. 
GymRat!Miguel who thinks that interaction ruined the girl’s mood but he really didn’t have the energy to be concerned. 
He had to freshen up for breakfast. 
GymRat!Miguel who feels absolutely cramped when he steps into Gabriel’s dorm. 
“It’s not bad!” Conchata rubs Gabriel’s back as he looks around with his mouth in the shape of a line. “Once we clean it and set up your things, it’ll be just like home.”
Gabriel puts his hands on his hips, “Home doesn’t look like cell block 1.”
“At least the window overlooks the city,” Miguel says. 
The door behind them opens with George poking head inside. 
“Mijo, we need to set some ground rules. Your suitemates have no idea how to organize.”
“Did you go in their rooms?” Gabriel asked in disbelief. 
“It’s not my fault they left the door open!” George puts his hands up. 
GymRat!Miguel who works harder than he did for his own dorm. Every piece of clothing was in its rightful place, every surface was sparkling clean, the bed was made with minimal pillows and a giant RJ churro plushie, and there was an odd-shaped humidifier plugged up on his desk. 
“I’m putting your cleaning supplies in the corner of your closet, so this room should stay clean,” Miguel grumbled as he stuck a mini vacuum against the wall.
“Whatever, mom,” Gabriel replied.
“Gabriel,” Conchata had a hand on her hip and a finger pointed at her son. “Don’t whatever him. He’s right. There’s no excuse for this room to be a mess.”
Miguel and Gabriel stood in shock at Conchata’s quick defense.
“Are we in the twilight zone?” Gabriel asks out the side of his mouth.
“Maybe it’s the air pressure,” Miguel whispers back.
GymRat!Miguel who equates Conchata’s growing softness to the fact that not one, but two of her boys will be leaving the nest. 
The sentiment is sweet, but by the fourth time she just lets him and Gabriel roam the busy streets, he’s internally freaking out. 
It was far different from the woman who pinched their ears when they tried to sneak sweets into the shopping carts or the woman who had her shoe locked and loaded for when one of them did anything to annoy her. 
GymRat!Miguel who stays up late to talk all night with Gabriel about anything and everything.
“Which one of these do you think is better?”
Gabriel reaced into his backpack to unfold two flags, one with Jungkook over the Mexican flag and a Weenie Hut Jr. sign.
“Well, I definitely feel like there’s a clear answer.”
“You’re so right,” Gabriel says and folds up the Spongebob sign. “It’s better to represent.”
Miguel only sighed, “If that’s what you insist, Gabri.”
GymRat!Miguel who hugs Gabriel tight as their parents pack the cab back to the airport.
They’ve dropped Gabriel back at his school and said their goodbyes all morning. Miguel feels like he’s fading away. He bites his lips in order not to cry, but it’s hard when Gabriel's hands grip his hoodie like a lifeline. 
“Knock em’ dead, baby bro.”
Gabriel leans back with a wet laugh, “They won’t see me coming.”
GymRat!Miguel who waves out the window as the cab drives off. Gabriel waves back with both hands and a smile on his face. 
Miguel keeps looking back and Gabriel is still standing there. He wants to tell the cab to turn around.
After the fourth look, Gabriel is no longer looking at the direction the cab went but to a girl who also seems to have said goodbye to her family. He’s talking animatedly, arms moving as fast as the words fly out of his mouth. 
Miguel turns back around and pulls the strings on his hoodie hard, eyes welling up with tears. 
“Ay, pobrecito,�� Conchata pulls Miguel into her arms, kissing the top of his covered head. “I know, it’s ok.”
Miguel’s lungs take in chopped breaths, hands never moving from the strings. He doesn’t know how to stop the tears from falling. 
“George, you too?”
To Conchata’s other side, George was looking out of the window, sniffling with a fist covering his mouth. 
“It feels like just yesterday I was teaching him how to kick a ball!”
Miguel blew out some air, “That probably was yesterday. He sucks at soccer. And football. And kickball.”
“How did he ever make the basketball team?” George says, voice riddled with sorrow. 
“His height, pa,” Miguel’s throat was tight again. “I didn’t call him beanstalk for nothing.”
The two of them lean onto Conchata, snot and tears crowding their faces. 
“Lose one baby and I gain two more,” Conchata sighed as she rubbed their backs, barely space in the little cab. 
GymRat!Miguel whose eyes remained puffy and swollen the whole trip back home. 
GymRat!Miguel who had to go back to school as soon as possible. 
He loved his parents, but being in the house without Gabriel took a lot more patience than he was willing to give. 
GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t see you coming while he's looking for you around the Student Center. 
The campus feels a little different since he’s become more familiar with it. Now he’s got shortcuts and pathways down. He knows more places to hide away in and he carries more tips to survive than he did his freshman year. 
A tap on his shoulder has him turning around. He spins, looks down, and his mood immediately lifts. 
You’re standing there with a pretty smile on your face in the midst of the bustling crowd. Miguel bends down to pick you up, arms wrapping around your thighs, mindful of your skirt. You laugh his name out as you cling to his shoulders. 
He kisses your lips, mouth warm and cozy like the sun shining through the window in a cool room. 
“I missed you so much,” he breathes after two heavy pecks. He moved to the corner of your mouth to your nose to your cheek. “‘M happy to see you.”
“I’m happy to see you, too,” you run a hand through his hair and cradle his face, looking into his eyes. “Are you alright?”
Miguel puts you down, knowing your limit for periodic PDA was nearing its end. 
“Better with you here.”
“Really?” You lean into his chin on his chest with hearts in your eyes. 
“Absolutely,” he plants his arms around you. “Been replaying your playlist for me. You want me to be your good boy?”
Your eyes get wider and you bury your face in his chest. 
“Why are you hiding? You should have known I was going to ask about it,” Miguel chuckles as you groan. 
“You’re using it against me.”
“No, I just want to confirm!”
The irritated face you gave him was too much, he had to tease you more. 
“Just say the word.”
“Hmph,” you lean back as Miguel grins. “Well, be a good boy and help me find our friends.”
Miguel let you pull him, smile loopy, “Whatever you say, baby.”
GymRat!Miguel who is glad to see his friends again. Peter, MJ, Jess, and Ben are sitting at one of the high tables and they all greet you both with smiles. 
“The lovebirds are here!” Peter reached to shake Miguel by the shoulders. “Good to see you both alive.”
“Never better,” Miguel replied, holding the seat out for you to sit on. 
“Look at him,” Jess snickered. “His eyes are practically shaped like hearts.”
“It’s ok to look away from her Miguel,” Ben said. “She’s not going to disappear.”
“C’mon guys, leave them alone. Haven’t you ever had someone you’re head over heels about?” MJ asks.
“No,” Ben and Jess say in a monotone voice.
“I’m sure you’ll find someone someday,” Peter quips as he wraps his arm around MJ. “Someone to stare at like they’re the only ones at the table.”
Everyone looked at Miguel talking to you as you tapped on your phone. He would whisper something in your ear and you would push him back with a shy laugh. His hands rubbed on your shoulders and your thighs. 
“Movie night might be insufferable,” Ben sighed.
Jess leaned back, “A girlfriend or boyfriend would suffice. I’m not picky!”
“I am,” Ben says with raised eyebrows. “I need someone to acknowledge my beauty.”
GymRat!Miguel who does in fact become insufferable during movie night. 
Flashing bright colors are painting the white dorm walls, lighting up the room, and the two of you are cuddled together on his bed. It’s way too cramped and Miguel could barely fit on the thing by himself, but somehow, he has you laid in his arms, a blanket covering you both. 
He’s not even sure what movie is playing on the projector because his mind is too focused on you. His hands keep wandering your body under the thick blue fluff. He’s watching you body jump and listening to your breath hitch as he kneads your thighs, your sides, your stomach, your chest. 
He really did miss you and he wanted to take this time to become acquainted with your body again.
But you would kill him if he let his thoughts take over and sink his hands under your clothes. 
So he settled with touching you and kissing your neck occasionally, your mind to preoccupied with the movie before you. 
GymRat!Miguel who insists on a snack run and makes you tag along. 
Does he want snacks? Not really.
Does he use it as an opportunity to make out with you on the outside of his car? Absolutely.
“Mig, mm-” you melt into him as he pries your mouth open. “I thought you said you wanted milkshakes.”
Miguel cages you against the car, pans down to your chest, then back up to your eyes, “My milkshake is right here, though.”
You scoff, hit his chest, and push his arms to walk around to the passenger seat.
GymRat!Miguel who has milkshakes ready for everyone on their way out to their own dorms. He spent way too long playing with you in the privacy of his car.
GymRat!Miguel who by his second day of classes thinks he has the ideal fall semester schedule planned.
He’s still blocking things out on his calendar, but his classes are a bit more spread out this time, which means more time to be with you. 
With your stacked studio classes, he was going to take every opportunity he could to see you. 
GymRat!Miguel who wanted to take up a basic game programming class as an elective. What better way to nerd out than to get insight on how his favorite games worked?
Learning C++ and Python, breaking down the technical side of things, making his own small games through engines; Miguel was beyond excited, to say the least.
He walked into the empty lab, scoping the classroom out for the best seat. The perks of being early. 
GymRat!Miguel who is scrolling through his watch later list while he waits for class to start. Maybe he could finally watch the Let’s Plays he’s been piling up. Maybe character builds would be better. 
“Hare-Hare, is that you?”
Miguel stopped, that nickname something he hadn’t heard in forever. 
He turned to his right with a smile on his face, “Xina?”
“It is you!” 
Miguel stood to hug her, his body rocking from the weight of her, almost knocking him over. 
“It’s been so long,” she breathes out. Her hands slide down his arms. “Have you gotten even bigger?”
Miguel laughed, “Probably.”
Xina’s eyes flitted over his body and back to his face. 
Miguel sat back down, “You look different, too. Is that a tattoo?”
“Y-yeah! You like it?”
It was some computer code in a spiral shape on her arm. It was really different for her. A far cry from the conservative, shy girl who left the South. 
In fact, the outfit she had on was something she would never wear. It looked like something that Lyla or Tempest would throw on. No collared dresses or long socks over stockings, just low-cut skirts and flowy-sleeved tops. 
“It’s pretty cool. Do your parents know you have it?” 
She shuffled the sleeves of her shirt back down, “They weren’t too fond of it, but what can they do now.”
Miguel smiled softly, “Lyla told me you were coming down here. I guess I just didn’t believe it until I saw you. How have you been?”
“I’ve been pretty good. Just trying to readjust. It’s a lot different here.”
Miguel raised his eyebrow, “From China or from up north?”
“Um, from up north. It’s a lot slower.”
“Really?” Miguel watched as she picked at the mountain of bracelets on her arm. “Hopefully not too much slower. I want you to enjoy your time here.”
More people started to fill up the lab, dropping their backpacks and pecking on their phones. 
Miguel rolled his chair closer to Xina, “What happened up there? Is everything ok?”
Her eyes shifted nervously, voice tight, “Lyla didn’t already tell you?”
“She can say a lot of things, but I’d rather hear it from you.”
Her shoulders dropped and whatever thoughts that were clouding her mind disappeared. 
“I’ll-” the professor heads to the front of the class. “I’ll tell you one day.”
Miguel nods, dropping the subject. 
GymRat!Miguel who is really excited about the future of the class after the first initial day. 
The professor seemed to have a lot of knowledge involving the industry, and even if Miguel couldn’t see himself really tapping into the industry, he enjoyed the banter. 
“Class seems like it’s going to be fun,” Xina says as she walks next to him, bag patting against her hip. 
“That’s a sentence I’ve heard no one ever say.” 
“Oh, shut up,” Xina pushes his shoulder and Miguel fakes being knocked over. “This is coming from the man who got excited about encyclopedias being available for checkout.”
“There was good stuff in there! Not my fault that others didn’t catch on.”
GymRat!Miguel who chats with Xina like old times. 
She looked different, but the core of her was still there. Still the sweet, reserved girl that he remembers. 
“Ah,” Xina looks down at her phone. “I gotta go. Me and my roommates are having a house meeting.”
“You got a quad suite?”
“An apartment! You should come over sometime. We’re going to have a little housewarming party soon.”
“Cool, I’ll be there. See you Thursday?”
Xina grinned wide, hands folding together in front of her, “See you Thursday.”
GymRat!Miguel whose time with you during the day was limited to lunch time. Your studios were stacked along with some general ed classes and he hated it. 
“Miguel, stop pouting, I’m here now!”
“That’s until you have to go mix your paints with others and cut floorboards.”
“I’m not mixing paint with others,” you reach to wipe some salad dressing off of his lip. “I’m mixing paints with other paints. And mineral spirits. And turpenoid.”
Miguel slumped down his chair, petulant. 
“Why can’t I just sit next to you and encourage you?” Call you pretty, stare at you, hold you. 
“Because it’s a college course just like any other class. I just can’t just walk into your labs unannounced.”
“If it were one of my lectures, you probably could.”
You left out a soft breath through your nose, “True. Too bad my classes are three hours long, babe.”
Miguel groaned, “I should have switched my bio class to yours.”
“So you and I both could be distracted all day? Not a chance.”
“No,” Miguel held out the vowel. “I wouldn’t get distracted, I swear! We’d sit at the front of the class to ensure it.”
“And somehow, you’d still find a way to distract yourself.”
Miguel puffed and folded his arms.
“How so?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” you shake your cup, seeing if you had any drink left. “Writing me messages on your notes app, spamming emojis, sending naughty pictures in the middle of class.”
“That was one time.”
“One time that my professor almost saw the hairs leading to your-”
“So what you're saying is, you don’t want my chest in your phone?”
“No! I never said that!” 
Miguel smirks and you fall back into your chair with your heart pounding. 
“You’re so mean, I’m going to class early.”
“Baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
Miguel held your hand to stop you from leaving the table, pulling you to his side. 
“Let go, I’m going to class.”
“Let me walk you there at least?”
Miguel wrapped his arms around you and moved his head wherever your gaze went. 
“Fine, hurry up.”
GymRat!Miguel who finished his lunch in two bites and reached for your portfolio. 
GymRat!Miguel whose heart swelled as you swung his hand on the walk to class. 
“I think we can still make more time for just us. There’s the weekends, your birthday, fall break, winter break, our anniversary,” you sang as you looked up at him. 
“You excited?”
“To spend time with you? Always.”
Miguel felt his cheeks warm at the simple statement. 
“Are you?”
“If I’m not excited to be with you, you’ll know I’m being kidnapped.”
“Stop,” you giggle. 
“It’s true!”
GymRat!Miguel who lingers in the art building while you wait for class to start. 
“Is there anything in particular that you wanted to do for our anniversary?”
You fan your eyes up, “Hm. I’m not picky. As long as it’s close to school. We can save the bigger trips for the future or holidays.”
So no sporadic trips across the country. He can check that off his list. 
“Your face is telling me that you were thinking of something else.”
“No…”
GymRat!Miguel who after two weeks of class could definitely say that his elective was taking more brain power than his science classes combined. 
It was fun, but god, he didn’t understand the point of his professor insisting that they learn C#. 
“This is so stupid,” Miguel grumbled after the third failed attempt to get his program to run. “I think I’m in hell.”
“With me here? No way,” Xina snickered beside him. 
“Yeah, you’re right. Still doesn’t change the fact that this is a program that is completely useless to not only me but the rest of this course.”
“It literally can’t be that bad”
“Look!”
Miguel showed Xina his code and the lack of progress that it seems like he made. 
“That’s ‘cause your lines are wrong, silly.”
She leaned over him, tapping at his computer. Miguel noticed that her tattoo was on display today despite the cool chills coming in as fall approached. 
“There. That should fix it.”
Miguel ran his program again and was filled with relief when it actually did what it was supposed to do. 
“You’re a lifesaver.” 
“Anytime,” she beamed and fanned absentmindedly. “I’m always here to help. I definitely need your guidance for quantum physics.”
“What do you need that class for?”
“My advisor suggested it, but I’m starting to regret it and I can’t afford to drop it.”
“Tell you what, you help me with coding and I’ll help you with physics. Fair trade?”
“Plenty equal to me.”
GymRat!Miguel who smells Xina’s perfume as she helps him for the third time that class. 
It’s sweet and earthy. It reminds him of the time you fed him ice cream on a campus bench not too long ago. 
“What is that? It smells good.”
“Really?” Xina looks over to Miguel with a smile. She leans back and twirls the black strands of her hair. “You like it?”
“Yeah, it’s nice.”
“Thank you.”
GymRat!Miguel who gets invited to Xina’s apartment-warming party. 
“It’s pretty small, and I’ve only made a few friends here so far, but I would love for you to come.”
“For sure, for sure. Should I bring something?”
“No, just you and your body will suffice.”
GymRat!Miguel who laughs with Xina as they exit the class. 
“I’m just saying that if you have time to make merch for your games immediately after the first patch of it does numbers, then you have enough time to improve it and make other parts faster.”
“Game developers have families to feed, ya know?” Xina states. “They can’t just sit at a screen all day, they need quick money like the rest of us.”
“So you sell plushies instead? Whatever happened to ‘hi, hello’ or ‘this is how progress is going this month.’”
“Miguel!”
He turned to where he heard his name, that voice like music to his ears. 
“Bebé!”
GymRat!Miguel who runs to you and spins you around like he hasn’t seen you in years. You squeal into his neck, excited because he’s so excited. 
He puts you down and stands in shock, checking his watch, “I thought you had studio right now?”
“Critique ended super early, so I wanted to surprise you!”
“So the rest of your day is free?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
Miguel would punch the air with glee if he wasn’t in public. 
GymRat!Miguel who turns when you peek your head past him to see Xina standing with a small smile on her face. 
He slots his hand into yours and pulls you over. 
“Xina, meet my girlfriend. Bebé, meet Xina.”
You reach your right hand out, introducing yourself. Xina takes your hand with a grip like a blood pressure machine and a quick introduction. 
When you take your hand back, your eyes do a double take between the two, Miguel oblivious to what just took place. 
You clear your throat, “Do you guys take the same class?”
“Yep, we-”
“We go way, way back,” Xina grins. “Like trading silly bandz and Pokemon cards back.”
“Oh shit, really? So you saw Miguel in his baby days. What was he like?”
“Please don’t say anything embarrassing,” Miguel groans out. 
“Yeah, tell me something good. Something juicy.”
“Hm,” Xina tapped her chin. 
Miguel shook his head behind you, hands clasping together in a pleading motion. 
“Miguel had a crush on me.”
That’s not what he expected Xina to say and from the raised eyebrows on your face, neither did you.
“That’s,” you rock on your feet and adjust your backpack, “definitely something.”
“Yeah! He was so cute running around handing me flowers with the roots still attached. I was too busy trying to be the best ballerina around, though. Right, Hare-Hare?”
“Right,” Miguel looked to the door. “Uh, we’ll see you around Xina.”
“Yeah, see you soon,” her fingers twinkled, chains on her nails dangling. 
GymRat!Miguel who kept waiting for you to say something as you both walked to his car. 
He was excited to eat dinner with you for once, but your silence was scaring him. 
“What’s wrong?” He breaks, sick of his aimless thoughts. 
“I don’t know, Hare-Hare, you tell me.”
“Amor, don’t be upset. It was such a long time ago.”
“That’s fine, I don’t care about that. Why would she bring it up in the first place? I don’t even know her like that.”
“I think she was just nervous, she’s not usually like that.”
“Compared to…?”
“Compared to the kind person I know her to be. Look,” Miguel reached for your hand, voice steady. “I’m sure she’ll open up to you as I’m sure you will to her, ok?”
You blew out a deep breath, “Ok.”
“Trust me?”
“I trust you.”
“Good,” he pecked your lips. “Now let’s go get pizza. I’m starving.”
GymRat!Miguel who still brought a gift to the apartment warming. It felt rude to not show up with something. 
You had recommended a candle, so Miguel went and got something that smelled similar to Xina’s perfume plus a candle warmer in the shape of a flower. 
He knocked on the door, a gift bag in his hand.
After a few seconds, it swung open with a guy who he didn’t have to bend down to look at. 
“Woah,” he said. “You’re huge.”
“Uh, thanks? Is Xina here?”
The guy was brushed to the side to reveal a frazzled Xina. 
“H-hey, Miguel! You came!” Xina clung to him, fingers clammy and breath burning through his shirt. 
“Yeah, of course. Was this the wrong day?”
“No! No, no. You’re right, come on in.”
GymRat!Miguel who felt that the apartment was really nice and Xina’s roommates were a rambunctious bunch. 
Although, he expected the event to be a bit more relaxed. There were people crowded together in the living room, some screaming at a game on the TV, some making their mark on the couch, others dancing out on the balcony. 
Miguel was anxious to say the least. 
GymRat!Miguel who was pulled into Xina’s bedroom, the stench of that sticky, sweet perfume filling his nostrils. 
“Sorry about that, I didn’t know it would get this wild.”
“It’s fine,” Miguel shuffles the bag into her hands. “I just wanted to give you this, then I’ll be on my way.”
“Aw, so soon?”
“Yeah, I’ve got some stuff to catch up on.”
He wanted to get out of here. 
His eyes panned around her room, the style of it matching more to her past self. White lace, lilac and soft pink bows, tiny bunny and hamster families sitting on a shelf above her desk. 
A poster from a franchise that she swore she hated but he loved. Funny. 
Xina dug into the bag pulling out the candle warmer, “Miguel, this is so cu-ute! It’ll be perfect on my desk.”
“I thought you would like it.”
“You do know me very well,” she pulls out the candle and holds it to her nose for cartoonishly amount of time. “This smells fucking amazing. It’s like, like the inside of an ice cream bucket. But in a jar.”
“Xina,” Miguel sits the candle down before she moves the wicks up her nose. “Are you high?”
“Only a little…un poco,” she holds her fingers in a pinch. 
He pushed her hand away from his face. 
“They’re not making you take anything, right?” He pointed back to the door. 
“No, I wanted it to. It’s nice. You should try it sometime. Relax a little.”
Miguel watched Xina’s eyes for a moment, searching for anything, something about how she really felt. For the moment, they were only cloudy and unphased. Miguel supposes that he should be like that too. 
“Maybe another time. I think I’m gonna go.”
“If you must,” she pouted and hung on to his shoulder until they reached the door. 
GymRat!Miguel who finally breathed easier once he was in his car. 
He wondered what to get a person to help them come down from a high easier. 
GymRat!Miguel who didn’t care what Lyla had to say, the arcade was a great idea for the 1st Anniversary date. 
He had it all planned out: pick you up at your dorm door, drive you out, about an hour to the closest city, spend the rest of the night exploring the city, come back to the hotel, breakfast in bed, an afternoon at an art class because you wanted to see him paint, an evening at the arcade, and a night to complete out his Mission B: Virgin No More. 
It was perfect. Immaculate. Sublime. 
GymRat!Miguel who took the term passenger princess more seriously than he needed to. 
“You sure you don’t want me to drive?”
“Nope. Just sit there and look pretty.”
“I might fall asleep.”
“You’ll still be pretty either way.”
GymRat!Miguel who has the most fun going to random stores with you. Sure, there were some boutiques where the owners looked at you both like extra heads were sticking out of your necks, but there were also stores that were cozy and warm. 
You both stayed in the nooks and crannies of stores looking at trinkets, jewelry, books, anything. 
“Miguel, look!” you hold up the tiniest pair of baby shoes he’s ever seen. “How precious is that?”
“Put those down, I don’t need any new ideas.”
“You had old ones?”
GymRat!Miguel who buys a giant puzzle for you both to complete together. It’s a watercolor painting of the night sky and the bright day blending together. 
It was the two of you together in one piece, he had to get it. 
GymRat!Miguel who is giddy that you bought a set of matching silk pajamas for you both to wear. 
He knew you were definitely going to get hot in them, but what are hotels for if not turning up the A/C and cuddling together under the thick, starchy comforters? 
GymRat!Miguel who keeps staring at you through the mirror as you brush your teeth. There’s a fluffy headband keeping your hair out of your face, and you’re only wearing the top of your pajama set. 
He’s no better, only rocking the pants. 
“What?” you say with foamy toothpaste flooding your mouth. 
“Nothing. You’re cute.”
You spit out the toothpaste, “You’re cute!”
GymRat!Miguel who holds you close as you take a bunch of mirror selfies before you both head to sleep. 
GynRat!Miguel who knew this day was starting off right when you came out of the bathroom with your stomach showing. The shirt is like a blessing, mesmerizing in multiple areas, hugging your skin tight but loose enough for him to stick his hands under it. 
“Amor, I don’t know if you know this, but,” Miguel pulls you in between his legs. “We’re supposed to actually make it out of the hotel room today.”
“And we will,” your eyes sparkled. “So until we get back, be good.”
Miguel groaned and peppered searing kisses across your skin, hands hot on the pocket of skin he could see, squeezing and gripping. 
“Do I get a reward?”
You lean and whisper in his ear, breath tickling his skin, “A really, really hot one.”
Miguel's eyes are opened wider when you stand back, neck burning. 
“You’re killing me.”
GymRat!Miguel who really sucks at painting. 
“I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”
“Well, to start off, your brush isn’t even clean.”
You guide his hand to his water cup with a giggle, “None of your colors are going to show up if you keep dipping them willy-nilly.”
“Ok, but how come your hearts are so much better than mine? We both followed the teacher.”
Your eyes looked from your uniformed artwork, colors tangling together intricately and shapes flowy to Miguel’s canvas that had dripping paint, a bad mix of oversaturation, and wobbly shapes. 
“You know, I’m not completely sure how you managed that, babe. What matters is that you did it with love,” you say noticing both of your initials in one of the best hearts on the page. 
“Maybe you’ll be better at pottery? Mosaic?”
“I think you just enjoy laughing at my expense.”
GymRat!Miguel who rolled the sleeves of his sweater up when it was time to play arcade games. 
He had to look good, show off, and earn prizes. 
You watched with heavy eyes as he geared up to play the boxing game. 
He made the boyfriend outfit look even more yummy, with his button-down peeking from under his blue sweater to match your outfit and his big jeans hugging his waist. 
With a heavy swing, the machine seemed like it lifted off the ground with the force he gave it. His face was so serious as he waited for the score and you were inching closer to insanity. 
The machine faltered, red dashes dancing across the screen. 
“Did you break it?”
“Uh. I hope not.”
After what felt like a moment in which you both probably should have run away or called a worker, the machine blinks back to life. 
“No way.”
A max score of 999 stared back at you both and the card machine lit up with rainbow colors. 
You held his hand in yours, looking at his knuckles for any bruises or blemishes. When you stared up at Miguel incredulously, he had a goofy smile on his face. 
GymRat!Miguel who may have been more competitive than he needed to be. 
You yelled as his score kept inching away from yours on the basketball arcade game. 
“You’re, like, as tall as the machine! You’re cheating!”
“It has nothing to do with height, chiquita.”
You groan out a sound of frustration as you miss your shots, messing up your streak. 
The timer goes out, Miguel winning by a landslide. 
You push your head back as Miguel celebrates. 
GymRat!Miguel who keeps this song-and-dance up for the rest of the night. Sometimes you would win, sometimes he would win. 
His final strike was when you both were in one of those FPS games that required you both to be crammed inside of a dark box. 
“Miguel, stop taking my fucking shots!”
“Oo, she’s getting feisty with me now.”
You thought quickly and leaned over. With an eye on the screen and the intention to rile him up, you moan his name right in his ear, breath needy and warm. You lick at his jaw to seal the deal and turn back. 
Like paper, Miguel folds, and his aim becomes absolutely terrible. 
“W-why would you do that?”
You couldn’t bring yourself to feel that bad as “Player 1: Bunny WINS” and “Player 2: Bear LOSES” jumped across the screen. 
You kiss Miguel on his cheek as he readjusts his pants with a frown on his face. 
GymRat!Miguel who could hear his heartbeat in his ears on the elevator ride back up to the room. 
You were holding onto the giant plushie he gave blood, sweat, and tears to earn, saying that it reminded you of him. 
Miguel, on the other hand, was digging his nails into his palm and opening the collar of his sweater sporadically. 
“You alright?” you say, placing a hand on his elbow.
“I might pass out.”
“Miguel,” you hold him close as you both walk to the door. “You gotta calm down.”
“I am! I’m just nervous.”
“You’re shaking.”
Miguel’s hands tremored as he ran the key card over the censor.
GymRat!Miguel who let you hold his hands as you kissed over his wrists. 
He was so dear to you. His presence, like a beautiful spark.
“You’re so sweet.” A kiss to his palm. “The sweetest there is. I adore you.”
Miguel took a shuddered breath as he watched you, heart rushing to his ears.
GymRat!Miguel who is more calm when you both start to remove your clothes. It wasn’t steamy and desperate like he imagined. It was slow, intimate, and quiet. 
It was like seeing you all over again for the first time when he helped you take off your shirt. It was like stepping into new territory when you held his jeans so he could step out of them. You both took turns taking off an article of clothing, savoring the moment. 
Miguel fumbled a bit when he was met with you the clasps of your bra, fingers knocking against each other.
When the time comes, after what was an hour or so of touching, feeling, and existing within each other, your hands fumble with the condom.
Miguel feels out of his body as you slide it down with care, hands moving as if you were molding clay. 
It wasn’t until he was on top of you that he felt that this was really happening. The foreplay between you a spot of comfort and habit.
After so long, he finally slid in deep, the pit of his stomach quivering. You were so unbearably tight.
“Y-you ok?” Miguel squeezed onto your hand, watching your eyebrows knit together. 
“Yeah, it’s just,” you chuckle, breath almost gone from the feeling of him. “You’re really big.”
Miguel’s face shifted from worried to shocked. 
“Oh! Well, I guess that’s a good thing?”
“You don’t have to guess, I can feel it.”
Miguel twitched and jolted involuntarily, causing you to whimper, your words going straight south. 
“Miguel! Stop moving.”
“Sorry! You’re really tight right now and I’m trying to focus.” 
“God,” you sigh and let your head drop to your pillow. “Are we even doing this right?”
“No clue.”
Miguel kissed your collarbone as you wrapped your arms under his. He continued to kiss across your shoulders, lips light and airy. Up your neck to your jaw, he could feel you relax and breathe a little easier. 
He grazes his mouth to your cheeks, humming as you move them closer to his lips. He kisses your temple, your eyebrows, your forehead. At your nose, you start to giggle, Miguel’s kisses leaving flutters on your skin. 
Miguel joins in on your joy, grinning as you try to return the pecks. 
“Ok,” you whisper. “I think I’m ready. You can move now.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I want you to make me feel good. I want you to feel good.”
Miguel looked at your eyes, waiting, wanting, open. He couldn’t help but to think how lucky he was to have a girl like you who was just so beautiful and lovely. 
His body is pressed against yours, the plush of your chest molding onto his. Your legs were wrapped around his thighs and your fingers danced across his back. 
He takes a hand to hold the side of your face while the other one is pressing you even closer to him. He moves out as best as he can, the warmth of you an addicting feeling, and slides back in slowly, a shallow thrust to start off. 
Your breath was hot against his mouth as you shuddered. Miguel groaned, feeling the heat of you through the thin condom. 
He moved again, watching as your face twisted and turned. Your hands are pressed against his back, palms applying pressure until the feeling stretches to your fingertips. The pricks of your nails dig softly into Miguel’s skin, muscles moving as he tucks your hair away from your face. 
By the third thrust, Miguel is moaning out, overwhelmed with you everywhere. When he breathes, you breathe. When he tightens his hand on your back, you tighten yours. When the feeling of you becomes too much to bear, you’re right there with him, eyes heavy and wet. 
Everything was heightened, from the sound of the bed squeaking as Miguel’s hips moved, to the little sounds you made when he inched in deeper. He’s scared he might shout in your face due to how good you feel so he presses against your lips, grunts coming out with each thrust. 
You take him with stride, hands balling up to fists as he gets deeper and deeper. 
His name from your lips is broken down from two syllables to four, enunciation clear enough for Miguel to know that he’s doing something right. 
“Don’t stop,” you plead, gaze reaching Miguel’s soul. “Please.”
“I won’t.” He would never leave if he had the choice. “Am I, shit, am I doing good? Do you feel alright?”
He shifts back to see your face and his heart speeds up watching you under him. Your arms fall to the bed and your mouth stutters open as Miguel continues. 
Your eyes drip as you let out staccato moans and Miguel leans down to kiss away your tears. 
“C’mon, bebé, let me know.”
You nod your head and cry out when Miguel goes even deeper. He hums against your mouth as a thank you. 
“Miggy, I,” you stop as you take a breath. 
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
A rush of heat from top to bottom filled Miguel’s core. The air left his lungs swiftly and came back in twice as fast. His back shook, nerves like a spring. All he could hear was your breaths, all he could smell was your warm skin, all he could taste was the lingering touch of your tongue, all could feel was the hot valley of you, all he could see was you.
He dies and comes back to life, sight piecing together that the stars and hearts were not part of you but they were just his muddled brain taking you in like the first day he met you. His throat burns like he swallowed hot coal. 
Your mouth is moving but he still can’t connect the words yet. He feels himself floating away. 
“Baby?” the way that your hands grip his body ground him. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” Miguel nods, eyes blinking fast. “What just happened.”
“I think you came?”
Miguel looked down, and sure enough, you were right. 
He doesn’t remember you getting any relief. 
“Can I-” he groans as you clamp down on him when tries to pull out. “Can we do that again?”
You nod your head, “Please.” 
GymRat!Miguel who, after a brand new condom and a clearer mind, realizes that he has a lot of work to do. 
He knew that you were his everything, but he couldn’t deny that he was a little embarrassed. You swore to him that it was ok, flattering even, but Miguel isn’t buying it. 
Your legs were bent at his sides as he lifted your hips off the mattress. He held them up as he stroked deep and focused on the sound of your breaths. 
“B-baby,” your voice is stunted as Miguel keeps a steady tempo. “Look at me”
Miguel groans into your neck, shuddering from the sound of your voice and your hands rubbing his sides. Your moans were high in your throat, breaking as Miguel’s hands pushed and pulled at your skin. 
“I can’t.”
“Why,” your words fizzle as Miguel hits a sweet spot. “Why not?”
“If I look at you, I’m gonna cum.”
Miguel goes faster as he feels you constrict against him. The bed creaks as the sound of him delving into you gets louder and louder. 
“Oh,” your nails scratch his back. Miguel matches your voice, desperate to please you. 
You open your mouth again, a three-letter phrase ghosting your tongue. 
“D-don’t,” Miguel’s hips freeze and unfreeze as he hears the first vowel leave your mouth.
“I wanna see you.”
Miguel shifts, eyes finding yours, and he knows he won’t make it. 
He tells you just as much and you pull him closer. 
“Te amo, mi luna.”
Miguel cries as he feels the air leaving him. He reaches down to touch you, your body jolting when his fingers graze your clit. 
You cum around him and he pushed through, waiting until you were shaking to let go. 
“You,” Miguel leans his forehead on yours. Both of you are shaking, blood pumping with adrenaline. “Play so unfair.”
“But you love me?”
He cuddles into your thumbs wiping at his eyes, “So much. I love you so, so much.”
You kiss him, feeling warm and satisfied, sighing as he melts on top of you. You run your fingers through his wild hair and scratch at his name. 
After a while, Miguel perks up, eyes sparkly and big like a little puppy. 
“A-again.”
“What?”
GymRat!Miguel who pulls you to the edge of the bed by your legs. You yelp at his strength and the icy pricks of the hotel A/C coating your overheating skin. 
Miguel slides back in with a practiced ease, the angle different, but not unfamiliar. 
He held your legs and hips from the bed, watching as your body moved from the faster momentum he produced. 
Your voice reaches the ceiling as your hands grip for anything. Seeing your reaction, Miguel grips your hips and your stomach, angling even deeper. It was fulfilling until your hands landed on your chest, stopping them from jerking so.
Miguel pulled your wrists together and down, watching as your arms framed your chest. He moans out your name, eyes stuck on the picture presented before him. 
How could anyone ever believe you were not beautiful? 
GymRat!Miguel who can’t help but to ask for one more round. In your disheveled state, you tell him it’s the last one. 
The sounds leaving your bodies were enough to make the bed blush. It was something so perfect about the whispers you mewled into each other's skin contrasting the wet sound of Miguel slapping into your wet entrance. 
Somehow you were nearly bent in half, knees almost next to your ears, as Miguel’s feet were planted on the bed. You didn’t even know your body could do that. 
At every smack of skin, Miguel was moaning your name louder and louder, mind completely gone. 
“I’m, ngh, gonna cum!” Your voice comes out at a volume that matches his. 
Miguel nods, encouraging you to release, kissing along your skin. 
You shout as he swerves his hips, melting your cour as he slides along your sweet spots. 
“So good,” Miguel says, balls twitching against you as crumbles to the bed. “So amazing. Mi luz, mi sol.”
The two of you catch your breath in the dim hotel lighting, jolting with aftershocks of your anniversary. 
GymRat!Miguel who held you on his chest as you slept, lips pressed against the top of your head. He checked his phone before going to sleep, wanting to set a timer for the morning. 
A Game Exchange’s Worst Nightmare
Miggy Mig MC: I did it
Winner-Winner: ???
Ly(ability)la: Only you would announce losing your virginity like that
Tempie: omg
You’re not a baby anymore 🥺
What am I gonna do
Winner-Winner: WAIT
LESGOOOO
Tempie: I never thought this day would come
Winner-Winner: you was tearing it up wasn’t you? 🤪
Ly(ability)la: you’re so annoying
Tempie: like I didn’t prepare fast enough
I
I WASNT READY
Winner-Winner: I hope you did that trick I taught you
It gets em every time
Guaranteed banger
Tempie: This actually ruined my night
Ly(ability)la: Temp is losing it and so is Wins
Congrats to you ig
Winner-Winner: I bet she’s KNOCKED OUUOOT
Ly(ability)la: is being normal like not in your cards or…
Tempie: I think I’m sick
Miggy Mig MC: .....
Gabri 🤏🏽🤡:
“I did it”
“No fucking way"
"NO FUCKING WAY"
"AND? AND SO?"
“It was just as good as you say. That’s all I’m saying.”
"I feel like I need to throw something on the grill"
“Not too much Gabri”
GymRat!Miguel who wrapped his arms around you as you fixed up something the next morning. 
“G’morning,” you say to a heavy Miguel leaning down on you. 
“Super good morning,” his hands reach to cup your left breast and your stomach under your robe. He left a long kiss on your shoulder. “Whatcha doing?”
“‘M getting your gift together.”
“Another one?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Well, let me step up my game.’
GymRat!Miguel who sits with you on the bed as you both trade gifts.
“Aw, Miguel! How am I supposed to eat these? You look so cute here,” you took a piece of candy in your hand and looked his face planted on it. 
“Like this,” Miguel takes your hand and guides the candy to his mouth. 
You smile watching him, body warm. 
GymRat!Miguel who watches your eyes glow when you see the dolphin charm with the date that you two took our first date. 
“Put it on me?”
Miguel slid the jewelry over your skin, watching as gold danced against your skin.
GymRat!Miguel who feels like crying when flipped through the scrapbook you made. Each section matched a song in the playlist you made for him. 
It was so thoroughly crafted and thought out that Miguel couldn’t stop the waterworks. 
“Why did I think that outfit was cool?” Miguel laughed wetly as he saw a picture of you both at a pumpkin patch.
“You look adorable,” you catch his tear on your thumb and hug his side.
GymRat!Miguel who drops you off at your dorm with kiss after kiss to your lips. 
Jess opens the door with a dramatic sigh, “The two of you are glowing. How cute.”
GymRat!Miguel who reaches back to his night with you every time he’s sick of the class he’s in. 
A little bit dangerous when it comes to his labs, but everything is reminding him of you. He can’t even look at his blanket without thinking about the way your shirt draped your body. 
Maybe he should make love to you with it next time.
GymRat!Miguel who is in a daze during his programming lab. 
“Earth to Miguel. Did you finish the mini code?”
“Uh, yeah,” Miguel replied to Xina. 
“Good, because I need you to check this equation really quick. I need to turn it in later this week.”
Miguel leaned over to Xina’s laptop, arm reaching across her. 
“So,” she slides her nails up his arm. “What do you think?”
“It’s fine. This part is very wrong, though.”
She squeezes at his muscle, chest pressing on him.
“Are you cold or something?”
“No, why do you ask?”
“Because,” Miguel slides her laptop in front of him. “You’re really touchy today.”
“Miguel, I’m always touchy.”
She puts an arm on the back of her rolling chair and leans on her wrist. 
“True.”
“Is there a problem with friendly touches?”
“No, Xina. I’m not like that.”
“Ok,” she holds her hands up in defense. “I’m just trying to understand.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“That,” Miguel says turning to her, “Being weird. Overstepping.”
Xina folds her arms and nods her head, “I got it.”
GymRat!Miguel whose time with you dwindles within the next couple of weeks. If it’s not studying, it’s the robotics team. If it’s not the robotics team, it’s his class schedule never matching yours. If it’s not your studios, it’s his study sessions with Xina. 
Currently, she was sitting beside him on the first floor of the library, head on his shoulder as she sighed over a new formula. 
“This is so gross,” she said, wiping away eraser shavings.
“Did you even try?”
“Like, once. That was enough.”
GymRat!Miguel who gets your text and looks up to where he knew you’d come from. He felt like he could feel you close, but the entrance was so far away he couldn’t see. 
He got up for a second, turning and standing tall to catch a glimpse. 
“I know you’re not about to give up this. You said it was easy! That’s not the Miguel I know,” Xina grabbed his wrist, hands unbearably hot. 
His phone buzzed again. You said you were going back to your studio. 
He sighed and sat back down, mind foggy.
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divider by: @thecutestgrotto + @adornedwithlight 🩵
a/n: Y'all know that gif with the smoking duck? I feel like that but I would replace the cigarette with an Icee or something.
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aceyalonso ¡ 6 months ago
Text
xi - She's my girl
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chapter summary : sienna's parents invite you and oscar's family to have dinner and spend the night at their house, what happens when marietta does something that ruins her friendship with you?
alternative summary : fluff, angst, smut, the holy trinity in one
warnings : y/n is a history nerd, angst, swearing, fighting, drinking (mentioned and implied), slight miscommunication, marietta is a BITCH, smut, dom!oscar hair pulling, fingering, pussy slapping, mirror sex, edging, overstimulation, spanking, bondage (belt), squirting, face sitting, breeding kink lowkey, creampie, oral (both receiving), gagging, praise kink, degradation kink, unprotected sex (use a condom guys!)
word count : 23.3k
a/n : only 1 more chapter till this series ends :( | I AM SHOCKED WITH THE SMUT LIKE NO WAY I WROTE THIS BRO WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS SO FREAKY IM SCARING MYSELF
song : can't help falling in love - elvis presley
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Wednesday, 9:10 AM
The next morning, both Y/n and Oscar's family gather at the breakfast table in the house. The room is filled with the scent of eggs, bacon, and coffee, and the atmosphere is a mix of cheerfulness and familiarity.
Y/n sits at the table, a plate of food in front of her, her hair slightly messy from sleep. Across her, sits Oscar, his plate also loaded with food as he engages in the conversation around him.
The family members are chatting amongst themselves, discussing plans for the day ahead. Y/n is chiming in occasionally, her eyes darting to Oscar every now and then, a private smile playing on her lips as she secretly remembers the events of the previous night.
Oscar, for his part, seems his usual charming self, engaging with the others in conversation while occasionally throwing a discreet peek in Y/n's direction.
As the family is chatting, Y/n's mom mentions that she ran into Sienna and Marietta's mom at the supermarket the day before. She explained that they had started talking and chatting, so she had gotten home a bit later than expected.
Y/n's mom then says, "Oh, and get this! While we were chatting, they invited us over for dinner. ALL of us. How nice of them, right?" Y/n's mom finishes, her voice filled with her usual cheerful energy as she relays the invitation.
Y/n looks up from her plate, a slice of bacon halfway to her mouth. She hesitates for a moment, a small frown creasing her forehead as she processes the information. Then she asks, her voice tinged with slight apprehension. "When is this dinner party happening?"
Her mother beams at Y/n's question, her cheerful disposition unperturbed. She takes a bite of toast before responding, "Oh, it's on Saturday. Your father will be back from the countryside on Friday, so it works out well." her voice filled with her usual enthusiasm
Y/n looks at her mom, a puzzled expression on her face. She sets the slice of bacon down on her plate and asks her mom a question. "Why is dad in the countryside anyway? Is there some sort of work he's doing there?"
Y/n's mom reaches for her coffee mug, taking a small sip before explaining. "Ah, the vineyard. Your Tia Lidia asked him to take care of the vineyard for a few days while she goes on a trip- I'm not quite sure if it's a business trip or not but either way, your father is there." Her voice is nonchalant, as if the the reason is obvious.
Y/n nods in understanding, her memory being jogged by her mother's words. She says, her voice a bit sheepish, "Right, the vineyard. I forgot about that. It's been a while since we've been there."
May, who had been listening in on the conversation, suddenly chimes in. She turns to Y/n and her mom, her voice a tad bit anxious. "What's the dress code? I only packed summer clothes..."
Y/n's mom chuckles at May's question, her laughter light and reassuring. She says, "Don't worry, casual is fine. We don't need to be too dressy. But if you don't have anything suitable, you and Y/n can always go shopping and find something nice to wear. How does that sound?" her voice warm and understanding
Y/n nods in agreement, appreciating her mother's suggestion. "That sounds good. A little shopping spree could be fun," she adds, her voice lighter now that the wardrobe issue is sorted out.
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After breakfast, Y/n heads up to Oscar's room, the events of last night and the anticipation of seeing him again add a slight skip in her step.
Once she reaches his room, she goes inside and closes the door behind her, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She waits patiently, excitement thrumming through her veins as she eagerly awaits his arrival.
Oscar soon walks into his room, expecting to find it empty, only to be jumpscare when he sees Y/n patiently waiting on his bed. He lets out a small involuntary gasp, surprised by her presence there. But the surprise quickly melts into a warm smile as he crosses the room to where she is sitting.
He approaches her, his eyes lingering on her face for a moment before he speaks. There's a mix of curiosity and affection in his voice as he questions her presence there.
"I wasn't expecting to find you here," he says, his voice affectionate and quiet. "What brings you to my room, all alone and patiently waiting for me, hm?"
Y/n looks up at him, a cheeky smile on her lips as she responds. "Just wanted to spend some alone time with you, is that a crime?" She pats the spot next to her, silently inviting him to join her on the bed. "Come here, sit with me."
Oscar chuckles, his eyes sparkling with affectionate mischief. He settles down beside her, his body pressed against hers as he responds to her cheeky comment.
"True, wanting to spend with me isn't a crime, but entering my room unannounced could be considered trespassing. I might have to call the police," he teases, a playful sparkle in his eyes.
Y/n grins as she pulls Oscar towards her, her movements quick and sure. They both fall back onto the bed, their bodies now lying side by side, separated only by a sheet of air. Y/n's heart is pounding, and her breath hitches as the closeness between them electrifies the room.
Y/n giggles as they lay there, the memories of her childhood room flooding back. She nuzzles closer to him, her voice light and playful as she points out, "By the way, you know what? This room used to be mine. So technically, I'm not really trespassing. I'm just revisiting my old territory."
Oscar laughs loudly at her statement, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he teases her, drawing from the iconic werewolf characters from the Twilight series.
"You sound like a werewolf from Twilight right now! Your old territory, huh? I can practically hear the howling and the transformation music in the background." He grins, enjoying the banter between them.
Y/n playfully smacks his arm, feigning mock offense at his comparison. Her voice is filled with exaggerated indignity as she responds. "Hey! Don't compare me to those sparkly vampires and werewolves! I'm a normal human, thank you very much. No transforming during the full moon for me."
They both laugh again, their shared humor creating a lighthearted atmosphere. Oscar then grins at her, his eyes sparkling with affection as he responds.
"Alright, alright, no more werewolf comments. My apologies. I guess you're just a normal human with a hint of possessive territory instincts, right?"
Y/n nods in playful agreement to Oscar's comment about her possessing territory instincts. She then moves a bit, adjusting her position to get more comfortable. She turns slightly, snuggling up against him, her head resting on his shoulder, her leg lazily thrown over his.
Y/n suddenly remembers the mention of the shopping spree. She lifts her head from Oscar's shoulder, looking up at him.
"Hey, you heard my mom talking about the shopping trip, right? Do you think we can find anything decent to wear for the dinner party there?"
Oscar nods thoughtfully, his mind already working on possibilities. "Yeah, I heard her mention it. And yeah, I bet we can find something decent to wear there. The city has plenty of stores to explore. We'll definitely find something suitable."
Y/n winces slightly as she shifts her weight, her shoulder getting sore. She looks at Oscar apologetically. "Hey, can we switch positions again? My shoulder's starting to hurt from this angle."
Oscar immediately nods, his tone concerned as he notices her wincing. "Sure, of course. Let's change positions. You don't want to end up with a sore shoulder, right?" He moves carefully, shifting his body so that she can adjust her position, accommodating her needs.
Y/n smiles gratefully, appreciating his consideration. She readjusts herself, now lying on her back as her legs intertwined with his. She lets out a sigh of relief, the pain in her shoulder subsiding now that she's more comfortable.
Y/n suddenly switches gears, starting a totally random conversation. She glances at Oscar, her tone suddenly casual and lighthearted.
"Hey, speaking of shopping, do you ever get sick of wearing clothes? I mean, sometimes I just wish I could be naked all the time. It's so freeing, you know?"
Y/n suddenly switches gears, starting a totally random conversation. She glances at Oscar, her tone suddenly casual and lighthearted. "Hey, speaking of shopping, do you ever get sick of wearing clothes? I mean, sometimes I just wish I could be naked all the time. It's so freeing, you know?"
Oscar looks at her, a smirk playing on his lips, as he playfully responds. "Are you secretly a nudist or something? Wanting to be naked all the time sounds a bit… risqué, don't you think?"
Y/n laughs, shaking her head in denial. She replies, her voice light and carefree. "No, I'm not a nudist, I swear. I was just kidding. Though I do love the feeling of being in nothing but a silky robe, with the fabric gliding over my skin, feeling the coolness of the air against my body."
Oscar's fingers find their way into Y/n's hair, gently running through the silky strands as he responds, his voice low and slightly huskier than before. "A sight I'd love to see, you in only a silky robe, the fabric hugging your curves, and nothing between your body and the cool air? That sounds… intriguing, to say the least."
Y/n laughingly slaps his arm, feigning annoyance at his thoughts taking an amorous turn. Her voice is a mix of playful sternness and lightheartedness. "Hey, focus! We're having a philosophical moment here, in case you forgot. Don't ruin it with your dirty thoughts."
Oscar chuckles, defending himself, his voice filled with mock innocence. He points out. "Hey, you were the one who brought up the topic of nudity first. I was just trying to follow the conversation, you know."
Y/n rolls her eyes, a small smile on her face, before playfully replying. "Okay, fine, I'll take some responsibility for bringing up the subject. But you didn't have to immediately go there, you know. We could've had a purely intellectual conversation about clothing-optional lifestyles."
Y/n suddenly brings up a historical fact, her curiosity about the Romans sparking a new topic. "Hey, did you know that the Romans were surprisingly open about nudity? They even had public bathhouses where people would just casually walk around naked as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But there were exceptions, though."
Y/n suddenly begins ranting about the Roman Empire, her passion for history shining through as she starts listing facts. "The Roman Empire was so ahead of its time, you know? They had an amazing road system and an advanced drainage system, and they practically invented the calendar we still use. Plus, their architecture was breathtaking. Buildings like the Colosseum and the Pantheon are still standing, over two thousand years later!"
Oscar listens intently to her passionate rant, occasionally interjecting with a question or making a comment to keep the conversation going. He's amazed by her fervor, her enthusiasm contagious as she speaks about the Romans. "So, they had all these incredible inventions and architecture, but what about their society? What was daily life like for an ordinary citizen?"
Y/n stops her tirade briefly to ponder Oscar's question, before launching into a thorough explanation. "Well, for your average Roman citizen, life would've been a mix of work, religion, and entertainment. Most people would have been involved in manual labor, agriculture, or trades. The Roman Empire was a huge society, with a complex social hierarchy. At the top were the rich and powerful, while the lower classes would've led more austere, hardworking lives."
As Y/n continues her passionate explanation about the Romans, she's suddenly interrupted by the unexpected kiss from Oscar. She looks at him, surprised for a moment, a smile slowly forming on her face as she realizes his gesture.
"Hey, I was talking, you know?" She says, a mixture of mock annoyance and amusement in her voice.
Instead of continuing her historical rants, Y/n now finds herself slightly distracted by the kiss. She can't help but be amused by Oscar's interruption, but she soon finds herself returning the kiss, losing herself in the moment.
Y/n breaks the kiss, her mind quickly snapping back into historical mode. Despite the distraction, her passion for the Roman Empire remains unbroken
"Right. Sorry, I got sidetracked for a moment. So, as I was saying, the Romans had this really interesting system of government…."
Oscar laughs loudly, his amusement growing by the second as he watches Y/n seamlessly switch from a passionate kiss back to historical facts. He grins, finding her enthusiasm endearing and endearing and adorable.
"You know, most people would get distracted and forget what they were saying after a kiss like that. But not you. You're back to talking about the Romans like nothing happened."
Y/n grins, defending her dedication to history, her voice filled with nostalgic joy.
"Of course, I didn't have a Percy Jackson-themed sweet 16 party for nothing. That event was the pinnacle of my teenage obsession with ancient civilizations. I mean, who needs a typical birthday party when you can have a full-blown historical tribute?"
Oscar's laughter continues, his face now buried in Y/n's chest as he playfully calls her a nerd. His voice is slightly muffled. "You're such a nerd, you know that? Most people would just get some typical birthday party for their sweet sixteen, with cake and balloons and stuff. But you had to go all out with a Percy Jackson theme. Only a true history enthusiast would do that."
Y/n grins, accepting the title of nerd with a hint of pride, and continuing her historical dialogue. "But yes, thank you, I am a nerd, as you've pointed out. Anyway, let's continue our discussion from where we left off. The Roman Empire, and its surprisingly casual approach to nudity…"
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Thursday, 10:31 AM
Oscar, Y/n, and May are now browsing through the racks of dresses in the store. As they move through the aisles, Oscar has already collected a few shopping bags, holding onto them with practiced ease. He seems to be adapting to the shopping task quite well, his earlier reluctance replaced by mild curiosity.
Y/n turns to Oscar, holding a couple of dresses in her arms, and announces her plan to head to the changing room. "I'm going to the changing room to try on these dresses. Mind waiting here for a bit?" She says, a smile on her face.
Y/n looks at Oscar, a playful glimmer in her eye as she suggests something. "Do you want to come with me and wait outside the door? That way, you can give me your honest opinions on the dresses as I change."
Oscar looks at her for a moment, considering her suggestion, before nodding. He grins, clearly up for the task. "Sure, why not? I'll keep watch outside the door and offer my fashion critique as needed."
Y/n grins back, happy that he agreed to her request. She leads the way towards the changing rooms, finding an empty one. She turns back to Oscar before going inside. "Alright, give me a moment. I'll come out and show you the dresses one by one, okay?"
Y/n emerges from the changing room with the first dress on, a smile of excitement on her face. She twirls slightly for Oscar, giving him a full view of the red dress. It complements her figure well, hugging her curves in all the right places.
"Well? What do you think of this one?" she asks, her voice displaying a slight sense of discomfort.
Oscar looks at her, his gaze taking in the bright red dress. He scans her from head to toe, his gaze appreciative and slightly playful. He grins as she twirls, appreciating the way the dress hugs her curves. "Red looks good on you. It really emphasizes your figure. You look… stunning."
Y/n smiles at Oscar's complement, but then adds a note of skepticism as she assesses the comfort of the dress. "Thanks, I appreciate the compliment. But comfort-wise, it's not exactly the most comfortable dress. The fabric is a bit too stiff, and it doesn't really breathe well." she complains, fidgeting with the straps of the dress.
Y/n disappears back into the changing room, leaving Oscar waiting outside. After a few moments, she steps out in a different dress. This one is a flowing, light blue sundress, with spaghetti straps and a gathered bodice. It hugs her curves loosely, accentuating her figure in a more subtle and breezy manner.
She twirls once again, giving Oscar a glimpse of the second dress. The soft blue fabric floats around her, moving gracefully with her movements. She looks at him, gauging his reaction. "Here is the next one. What do you think of this one?"
Oscar's eyes widen slightly as he sees Y/n in the second dress. The light blue fabric of the sundress complements her figure nicely, and the loose, flowing style seems far more comfortable than the red dress. He smiles, his gaze appreciative, his voice a bit softer than before.
"That one looks great, really great. It's much more comfortable and breezy, isn't it? The color suits you, too. You look really lovely."
Y/n giggles slightly at his comment, pointing out a concern she has about the dress. She gestures towards the spaghetti straps, her tone lighthearted but slightly wary.
"Yeah, I really like the style of this one, but there's one issue. The straps are pretty thin. I mean, what if one of them breaks and a wardrobe malfunction happens? I don't want to flash a titty at the dinner party, you know?"
Oscar bursts into laughter, unable to contain himself as Y/n points out her concern about the spaghetti straps. His laughter is loud and uncontrollable, drawing the attention of a few people nearby.
Y/n shushes him, a mix of embarrassment and amusement on her face. "Shh, quiet. People are staring. You're going to get us kicked out."
Oscar tries to control his laughter, but his body still shakes from suppressed chuckles. He takes a moment to compose himself before responding."Sorry, sorry… just the imagined scenario of you accidentally flashing us in that dress was too much for me."
Y/n rolls her eyes at Oscar's comment, but can't help but find his reaction amusing. She retreats back into the changing room to change into the last dress she has. After a few moments, she emerges for the third time, this time dressed in a beautiful champagne white knee-length dress.
The A-line dress shows just a hint of cleavage to catch Oscar's attention, making her look elegant and sophisticated. The bodice is cinched at the waist, and the fabric falls gracefully to a slight flare at the knee. Y/n steps out, twirling slightly for Oscar, gauging his reaction to the final dress.
Oscar's eyes widen as he sees Y/n in the last dress. The champagne-white fabric shimmers slightly in the lighting, and the cinched waist accentuates her figure beautifully. The hint of cleavage draws his gaze, making it difficult for him to look away. "Damn, that dress looks amazing. It fits you perfectly. You look… gorgeous."
Y/n smiles, satisfied with Oscar's compliment, and looks down to admire the dress herself. Her tone is filled with genuine praise for the third dress. "Yeah, I really like this one. It's classy but not overly formal, and it's actually more comfortable than the other two. Plus, the champagne white color looks really nice on me, right?"
Oscar nods in agreement, his gaze slowly trailing over her figure, appreciating how the dress hugs her curves. He grins, his voice slightly thick with desire, a hint of huskiness in his tone. "Yeah, you look incredible. Seriously. You could wear this to any fancy event and turn heads for sure. I can't take my eyes off of you right now."
Y/n grins at Oscar's compliment, her heart fluttering just a bit before she disappears back into the changing room. After a few minutes, she emerges in her regular clothes once again. She steps out, carrying all three dresses in her arms.
Oscar, who has been waiting outside, looks at her as she re-emerges in her regular clothes, holding the dresses in her arms. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his face. "So, have you made a decision? Which one are you picking?"
Y/n looks at the three dresses, her hand running over the fabric of each one. She contemplates for a moment before turning to Oscar, a smile on her face. "I think I'm going to go with the white dress. It's the most comfortable and it looks good, too. It'll be perfect for the dinner party."
Oscar's smirk transforms into a small smile as he hears her decision. He nods approvingly, his tone slightly teasing. "White dress it is, then. Good choice. You'll definitely turn heads at the dinner party. Just make sure no wardrobe malfunctions happen."
Y/n smiles at Oscar's teasing, rolling her eyes slightly. "Oh, don't worry, I'll make sure these straps hold my girls in place. No wardrobe malfunctions allowed."
Oscar grins, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Just make sure whatever you've got is strong enough. You don't want any accidents happening mid-conversation, or I might be the one to blame for distracting you and causing the malfunction."
Y/n laughs, shaking her head at him. "Oh, trust me, I have it under control. I don't need you causing any distractions. Besides, if any distractions happen, it'll be more your fault than mine."
They both laugh heartily as Y/n returns the dresses to their respective racks. They make their way towards the cashier, the energy between them light and playful after the eventful dress-shopping experience.
The dresses are put back, and Y/n turns to Oscar with a smile and a tease. "So, how about next time we go shopping, I bring you along for a change? I'll need a second opinion on what looks good on me, after all."
Oscar nods with a humorous smile, accepting the idea of accompanying Y/n on her future shopping trips. "Sure, that sounds good to me. I'm more than happy to give you my fashion advice."
Suddenly, May appears from behind them, her presence causing them to jump slightly in surprise. She grins, noticing their reaction to her sudden appearance, clearly enjoying the fact that she startled them. She chimes in, her usual cheerful tone filling the air."Hey guys! Done with the dress shopping?"
Y/n and Oscar both chuckle lightly, a bit taken aback by May's sudden appearance. Oscar replies with a smile, his heart rate slowly returning to normal."Yeah, we just finished. Y/n picked out a dress for the dinner party. You should see it, it's really nice."
May smiles wider, clearly interested in the details. "Oh, really? Can't wait to see it. Y/n, you always pick out the best outfits. I'm sure this one will look amazing too."
Y/n grins and nods, her excitement for the dress clear in her expression. "Thanks, May. I really like this one. It's comfortable and looks really nice, or at least Oscar seems to think so."
May pretends to gag, an exaggerated look of disgust on her face, clearly jesting them. "Oh, please. You guys don't need to rub your couple stuff in my face. Not all of us are lucky enough to find our perfect match like you two lovebirds."
They laugh at May's fake gagging, amused by her over-the-top reaction. Then, it's their turn to pay for the dress. Y/n steps up to the cashier, pulling out her wallet to pay.
Oscar swoops in as the transaction finishes, grabbing the bag with the dress before Y/n can even protest. He grins, holding the bag, knowing she's going to argue.
Y/n raises an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and mock annoyance on her face as Oscar snatches the bag from her grasp. "Hey, what are you doing? I can carry that, you know."
Oscar grins wider, "Oh, I know you can carry it. But I thought I'd be a gentleman and carry it for you. Consider it my little act of chivalry." his voice laced with playful stubbornness.
May eavesdrops on their playful argument, a mischievous smile on her face. Seeing an opportunity, she chimes in, holding out her heavy shopping bag with a tone of challenge. "Ooh, since Oscar's so keen on carrying things, how about you carry my shopping bag, too?"
Oscar turns to May, his expression turning to one of slightly annoyed realization. He responds with a hint of playfulness still present in his voice. "Hey, now. I never said I was a carrying service for everyone. I was talking about carrying Y/n's bag because, you know, I'm her boyfriend. Your shopping bag is where I draw the line, sorry."
May laughs, finding enjoyment in teasing them both. She holds up her shopping bag with feigned innocence, her grin widening. "Aww, come on, Osc. You won't deny a poor, defenseless girl the chance to have her bag carried? What if it's too heavy for my fragile wrists?"
Oscar rolls his eyes, once again realizing that May is enjoying pushing his buttons. He responds with a mixture of mock reluctance and amusement. "Defenseless, really? Do you think I buy that act? And your wrists are as strong as an ox, don't try to play the weak card on me."
Y/n chimes in, her tone filled with playful scolding as she joins in on the banter. "Oz, just carry her bag. It's not that big of a deal, and you're being stubborn about it. Come on, be a good sport."
May jumps in with an encouraging tone, fully agreeing with Y/n. "Yeah, Oscar. Be a good sport and carry my bag for me, won't you? It's not like it weighs a ton."
Oscar lets out an exaggerated sigh, knowing he's outnumbered by the two of them ganging up on him.
He groans dramatically before giving in, playing along."Fine, fine. I'll carry your bag, May. But only because Y/n and you are both ganging up on me. No more favors after this, got it?"
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may.piastri • Just Now Garfunkel and Oates • You, Me and Steve
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caption : i'm steve
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Saturday, 5:49 PM
The car pulls up in front of the De Cresenzo household, parked along the gravelly driveway with a mix of other vehicles belonging to the De Cresenzo family. The evening is drawing near, the sky tinged with hues of orange and pink as the sun begins to set.
Y/n steps out of the car, adjusting her hair and smoothing out her dress. She takes a deep breath, a mix of excitement and nervousness in her chest. She turns to Oscar, who has gotten out of the car as well and gives him a brief, reassuring smile.
Y/n's mother, along with Oscar's mother, approaches the front door of the house, their arms linked together in an amiable manner. Y/n's mother reaches out and gently raps her knuckles against the heavy wooden door, creating a soft, rhythmic sound. The rest of the family members trail behind them, waiting for the door to open with a mix of anticipation and curiosity.
Sienna grins as she opens the door, her warm and pleasant demeanor greeting Y/n's mother and Oscar's mother. "Hey, come on in. Sorry my mom is running a bit late, she's still getting ready upstairs but should be down in a minute. Please, make yourselves comfortable."
As the family members trickle in, Oscar and Y/n enter last, with Oscar offering a simple "Hi" and Y/n embracing Sienna in a quick hug. There's a sense of ease and familiarity between the two friends, a hint of comfort amongst the slightly formal atmosphere.
Sienna grins at Y/n, her tone affectionate and welcoming as they part from their hug."Hey, Y/n! You look great in that dress. I'm really glad you could make it." She then glances over at Oscar, her smile widening. "And hi, Oscar. You look quite sharp yourself."
Oscar gives Sienna a friendly smile, his eyes drifting down to her outfit for a brief moment. "Thanks, I appreciate it. You look really nice yourself. This is quite the event." He turns to Y/n, holding her hand as he subtly pulls her closer to him.
Y/n, standing beside Oscar, feels the warmth of his hand, his subtle gesture drawing her closer to him. She looks up at him for a moment, their proximity creating a subtle sense of intimacy as he pulls her a fraction closer. Y/n's mother, like Oscar's mother, notices the gesture but doesn't comment on it, knowing that it's a natural, romantic act between a couple.
Sienna grins mischievously and suddenly grabs Y/n's hand, pulling her gently towards the living room. Oscar chuckles at the action, following closely behind the two girls. The sound of chatter and laughter emanating from the living room can be heard as they approach.
As they enter the living room, Y/n's eyes widen in pleasant surprise. She hadn't expected to see Arthur, Sienna and Marietta's cousin, and her old neighbor from back in Monaco. A mix of nostalgia and excitement wash over her. "Arthur! I didn't know you were here?"
Arthur glances up from his conversation with his older brother Charles and spots Y/n in the doorway. A smile spreads across his face, his familiar features lighting up with recognition. "Y/n, is that you? It's been ages! I didn't know you were coming tonight."
Arthur's smile widens, and he immediately envelops Y/n in a warm hug, expressing his own surprise at seeing her. As he releases Y/n, his gaze shifts to Oscar who is standing just behind her. A brief flicker of confusion passes over his expression before a friendly smile once again forms on his face, though it's tinged with a hint of curiosity.
Arthur's recognition of Oscar is clear, and the memories of their online and offline interactions come back to him. As the boys hug each other, the surprise on both their faces is evident. They part from the embrace, a mixture of friendly acknowledgment and curiosity in their gazes.
Oscar grins at Arthur, genuinely pleased to see him. He pats Arthur's back in a warm, familiar gesture. "Arthur, man, it's been a while! I didn't know you'd be here tonight too."
Arthur grins back at Oscar, his expression mirroring the sentiment. "Yeah, it has, hasn't it? I was just as surprised to see you here. Small world, isn't it?"
Sienna and Y/n watch the exchange between Oscar and Arthur with a slight sense of confusion, wondering about the history between the two boys. Sienna glances at Y/n curiously, silently questioning if she knew about this friendship.
Y/n looks at Sienna, noticing her look of confusion and curiosity. She gives a slight shrug, silently indicating to Sienna that she didn't know about the extent of Oscar's friendship with Arthur either. For the moment, she chooses to stay silent, letting the boys chat amongst themselves.
Sienna, intrigued by the conversation between the boys and curious about their connection, decides to speak up. "Hey, Arthur, how do you know Oscar? You guys seem to know each other really well."
Arthur turns towards Sienna, his friendly smile still present as he answers her question. "Oh, me and Oscar? We actually met online through a gaming forum. We bonded over our shared interests and eventually ended up meeting in real life. We've been friends ever since."
Sienna and Y/n both let out an "ohh" in unison, their question now answered. It seems that the connection between Oscar and Arthur stemmed from an unlikely source — online gaming.
Y/n glances over at Oscar, intrigued by this revelation. She hadn't known that he and Arthur had met through online gaming. Although surprised, she finds it endearing that a common interest has forged a friendship between the two.
Oscar chuckles lightly, echoing the sentiment that Arthur had earlier shared. He affirms the coincidence and adds, his tone playful, "What a small world. Who would've thought we'd end up all being here tonight."
Marietta and her mother make their way down the stairs, and a call from inside the dining room alerts Sienna, Arthur, Oscar, and Y/n that dinner is ready. The four of them instinctively turn towards the sound, ready to head into the dining room for the meal.
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The dinner progresses with a pleasant atmosphere. Smiles, laughter, and conversations fill the table as everyone enjoys their meal and each other's company. Y/n's parents, Oscar's parents, Arthur's parents, and Sienna's parents all interact with one another, finding common ground and exchanging anecdotes. Y/n, Oscar, Sienna, Arthur, and Marietta all engage in lighthearted banter and catch up on each other's lives.
As the conversation ebbs and flows, Marietta leans in close and whispers in Oscar's ear, "You know, Oscar, you're looking particularly handsome tonight."
Oscar, visibly uncomfortable under Marietta's advances, tenses up slightly at her comment. He gives her an awkward laugh, his gaze darting around the table, hoping for someone to intervene or change the subject.
Arthur, sensing Oscar's discomfort, decides to interject and shift the focus away from Marietta's relentless advances.
His relief is almost palpable, grateful for the distraction Arthur has provided. He turns towards Arthur, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
"Oh, me and Y/n? We met when they went to Melbourne, our mothers ran into each other by chance." Oscar replies, taking a sip of wine.
Arthur nods, intrigued by their story. He glances over at Y/n with a small smile, then back at Oscar. "Ah, Melbourne, huh? That's an interesting place. How long were you there for?" He says, turning the question to Y/n.
Y/n chimes in, continuing the story, their voice light and cheerful. "We were there for just a month, but it's funny how our families managed to cross paths near the end of my stay. Melbourne's a huge city, after all."
Arthur raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the coincidence. He chuckles lightly, commenting, "That's some pretty good luck to have your families run into each other right before you left. Must have made for a memorable end to the trip."
Y/n laughs softly, confirming Arthur's observation. "It sure did. It was a bit of a whirlwind, but definitely made for a memorable ending. And it was the start of me and May's friendship too."
The conversation around the dining table continues as the dinner carries on. People laugh, talk, and enjoy their food, although it's clear that Marietta is still keeping a keen eye on Oscar, the atmosphere a mix of enjoyment and subtle unease. Y/n and Oscar both try to engage in the conversation, avoiding Marietta's advances while occasionally exchanging furtive glances and smiles.
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After the dinner concludes, the older adults continue chatting while the younger ones gather in the living room. The atmosphere is a bit stifling with Marietta’s constant presence but overall the group settles in as best they can.
Y/n and Oscar are sitting on the couch, close together with Oscar’s arm wrapped around Y/n in a protective and affectionate gesture. There is a slight tension in the air as Marietta keeps glancing towards them, clearly envious of their closeness.
Oscar sits next to Y/n on the couch, subtly watching her as she scrolls through her phone. His gaze occasionally flicks over to Marietta, who is sitting in an armchair across from them, her eyes fixed on Oscar in a mixture of jealousy and desire.
Y/n, blissfully unaware of Marietta's gazes, continues to scroll through her phone, tapping and swiping through different apps. Every now and then, she leans into Oscar slightly, feeling safe and comfortable in his presence.
Oscar, feeling a little uneasy with Marietta's intense stares, finds himself becoming more protective of Y/n, his arm instinctively pulling her a bit closer. He tries to refocus on Y/n, watching her phone screen and silently enjoying their proximity.
Y/n, feeling a subtle sense of unease, glances up from her phone screen and notices Marietta's relentless staring. She discreetly opens up her notes app, pretending to type something important, though her attention is more focused on Marietta's gaze towards Oscar and herself.
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Oscar notices what Y/n is writing on her notes app and leans closer to her, gently kissing her temple. He whispers in her ear, his voice tinged with a hint of irritation, "Yeah, Marietta's been staring at us for a while now. She's not being exactly subtle about it."
Y/n notices Oscar's subtle irritation and responds by pouting slightly. She then exits the notes app and shifts her attention towards Gabriel, who is resting his head on her lap. She begins playing with his hair, running her fingers through it and stroking it gently. It seems like a subconscious act, a way to relax and ignore Marietta's persistent stares.
Arthur, spotting the opportunity to lighten the mood, suddenly picks up the 7-year-old boy from Y/n's lap. He swings him over his shoulder, the boy's giggles filling the air as he rides on Arthur's shoulders like a superhero. The unexpected display of playfulness breaks the tension and brings a genuine laugh from some of the group, including Y/n, while Marietta looks a bit annoyed at the distraction.
Y/n, seeing the innocent joy on Gabriel's face and Arthur's playful antics, couldn't resist capturing the moment on video. With a smile, she took out her phone and started filming, capturing the sight of Gabriel on top of Arthur's shoulders, both of them laughing and goofing around.
Y/n continued to film the two of them, her phone recording the sweet moment as Arthur continued to act like a superhero and Gabriel continued to laugh and cheer. Their innocent fun contrasted Marietta’s intense stares, creating a stark difference between the carefree spirit of childhood and the adult tension in the room.
Sienna suddenly interjects, her voice excited and light, "Hey Arthur, put Gabriel down and play just dance with me!"
Arthur laughs, setting the young boy down and turning to Sienna. "You're on!"
Sienna and Arthur both stand up, ready to engage in a dance battle. They both look at each other with determination and excitement, the others watching with curiosity and amusement.
Sienna selects a song on the game console, choosing a fast-paced tune. The music starts playing, filling the room with upbeat beats. Sienna and Arthur both begin to dance to the rhythm, their moves a mix of awkward and silly but filled with enthusiasm.
Oscar's laughter rings out loudly in the room, the sound infectious and genuine. His hand remains firmly on Y/n's waist as he watches Sienna and Arthur dance, clearly enjoying the show. Despite the lingering presence of Marietta's stares, Oscar's good mood seems unaffected by it.
Y/n feels Oscar's hand, playfully fiddling with the zipper of her dress. "Stop it," she warns.
"Why should I?" Oscar asks, his eyebrows raised out curiosity.
Y/n's cheeks flush slightly as she speaks, a mixture of embarrassment and flirtation in her voice. "Cause I'll end up flashing the entire room," she murmurs, glancing around to ensure no one else can hear them. "I don't have a bra under this dress.
Her reply shocks Oscar, her words cutting through the teasing banter and bringing him back to reality. His eyes widened slightly at her admission, and the realization of what could happen if he were to go any further suddenly dawned on him.
With a mixture of surprise and slight embarrassment, Oscar quickly removes his hand from her back and lets out a soft chuckle. "Oh… well, maybe I better keep my hands to myself then." He glances around the room, ensuring no one else overhears their conversation.
Y/n can't help but smirk at Oscar's reaction, clearly enjoying the effect her words had on him. They both know the risk of his hands exploring further, and the knowledge of her lack of undergarments adds an extra level of intimacy to the moment.
Despite the lighthearted banter between them, there is an undercurrent of tension, an unspoken understanding that they are on the edge of crossing a line in front of the others. But for now, the tease is enough, and they both continue to watch Sienna and Arthur's playful dance routine, each aware of the other's presence in a way that the rest of the room is blissfully oblivious to.
Oscar, sensing the need for a moment of respite, stands up from the couch. He gives Y/n a small smile before excusing himself, claiming that he needs to use the restroom. With a casual stride, he leaves the living room and heads down the hallway towards the bathroom.
With Oscar gone, Y/n decides to join in the fun with Arthur and Sienna. She stands up from the couch and moves over to them, eager to participate in the game.
Arthur and Sienna welcome Y/n to their just dance session, and soon the three of them are engrossed in the game, moving to the rhythm of the music, laughing, and trying to outdo each other with their dance moves.
With the three engaging in their game of Just Dance, Marietta manages to slip out of the living room, swiftly going the same way Oscar went.
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As Oscar exits the bathroom, his hands still wet from the water, he shakes his hands, accidentally flicking droplets of water onto Marietta who had suddenly showed up.
"What the-" Marietta says, startled by the drops of water landing on her dress and face.
Marietta, regaining her composure, looks up at Oscar and says, "I need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere private?" Her voice is firm and urgent, her eyes locking onto his with a purpose and intensity.
Oscar is taken aback by Marietta's sudden appearance and her insistence on a private conversation. He hesitates for a moment, wondering what she could possibly want to discuss with him, but eventually nods and gestures towards a closed door nearby that leads to a small study room.
They both enter the study room, Oscar closing the door behind them. The room is small and dark, only illuminated by soft lamplight. The sound of laughter and music from the living room can be heard faintly in the background, which contrasts with the sudden seriousness of the atmosphere in the study room.
Marietta, now alone with Oscar in the small study room, takes a deep breath and gathers her thoughts, her gaze fixed on his face.
"I wanted to talk to you because… because I need to get something off my chest," she begins, her voice softer now but still carrying a hint of determination.
Marietta swallows hard, steeling herself before continuing. "I've been watching you… with Y/n. I've seen how close you two are, how close she is with your family, and it's been… eating away at me."
She looks up at him, her eyes searching his face for a reaction, any sign that he may somehow reciprocate her feelings.
Marietta continues, her voice growing slightly strained as she pours out her feelings. "I've tried to ignore it, to push it down, but I can't anymore. The way you look at her, the way you touch her… it's like she's everything to you."
She pauses, tears welling up in her eyes. "Do you… do you feel anything for me, Oscar? Anything at all?"
Oscar listens to Marietta's confession with a mixture of surprise and sadness. He knows that he can't return her feelings, not when he's completely in love with Y/n. Still, he doesn't want to hurt her, and he chooses his words carefully, trying to be gentle yet firm in his rejection.
"Marietta," he begins, his voice filled with empathy, "I'm flattered that you have feelings for me, but… I can't reciprocate them. Y/n and I are together, and she means the world to me. I care about you as a friend, but that's all it can be."
Marietta's anger rises upon hearing Oscar's rejection, her frustration and jealousy bubbling to the surface.
"What do you mean 'that's all it can be'?" she shoots back, her voice laced with bitterness. "I can be so much more for you, Oscar. I can make you happier, I can make you feel loved in ways she never could."
The words hang heavy in the air between them, the truth in their implication hanging over the room. But no matter how much Marietta protests, no matter what she says, Oscar can't bring himself to see her in that way. His heart, his entire being, belongs to Y/n, and no amount of persuasion or pleading can change that.
Marietta, fueled by her anger and desperation, continues to plead with Oscar, her voice growing louder with each passing moment. "I can be whatever you want me to be, Oscar. I can be your partner, your confidant, your everything. You don't need her; you need me. Don't you see that?"
Just as Oscar opens his mouth to respond, the door to the study room suddenly swings open. Y/n stands in the doorway, surprise and confusion etched on her face as she sees the tense scene before her.
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Y/n, lost in the music and enjoying herself with Arthur and Sienna, continues to dance with them, laughing and having a great time. The dance game goes on, the rhythm of the music filling the room and creating a fun and carefree atmosphere.
Arthur, Sienna, and Y/n continue to dance, the competitive spirit between them fueling their movements. They all laugh and cheer each other on as they try to out-perform one another, creating a lively and entertaining sight for anyone watching.
The Just Dance session continues, the three of them getting into the music and dancing with all their energy. The room is filled with laughter, with the occasional cry of "I did it better!" or a cheer from someone who nailed a particularly complicated move. It's a moment of pure fun and relaxation among friends.
Y/n suddenly pauses in her dance, her breath a little heavy from the intense moves. She looks at Sienna and asks, "Hey, I need to use the restroom. Where is it again?"
Sienna replies, "It's just down the hallway to your right."
Y/n nods, thankful for the directions. She excuses herself from the game, knowing that she'll rejoin them in a moment. She makes her way out of the living room, turning right and heading down the hallway towards the bathroom.
As Y/n heads down the hallway, her attention is abruptly drawn to a voice coming from the nearby study room. The sound of Marietta's voice is unmistakably loud and emotional, even through the closed door.
Y/n stops for a moment, a sense of unease settling in the pit of her stomach. What is Marietta doing in there? Who is she talking to? Y/n hesitates for a brief moment before her curiosity gets the better of her, and she quietly moves closer to the study room door, trying to listen in on the conversation inside.
She presses her ear to the door, her heart racing a little with curiosity and a hint of worry. The muffled voices and exchange of words carry faintly from the other side, but it's too indistinct to make out anything specific.
Y/n's heart sinks as she opens the door and finds the most unexpected scene unfolding before her eyes. Marietta, pressed up against Oscar, is kissing him on the lips, her hands gripping his shirt fervently. Oscar caught off guard, is frozen in surprise.
As Y/n turns to run out of the room, her heart is pounding in her chest. She doesn't look back, her mind still trying to process what she's just seen. Just as she leaves, Oscar finally pulls away from Marietta, pushing her off him as the shock of the situation sets in.
Oscar, completely stunned and furious, turns on Marietta once Y/n has left the room. He swears at her, his voice booming with anger. "What the fuck were you thinking, Marietta?! That was absolutely out of line!"
He doesn't wait for a response, his thoughts solely on Y/n and the hurt he knows she must be feeling. Without another word, he dashes out of the room, determined to find her.
In his panic, Oscar urgently turns to Arthur who is still playing Just Dance. "Arthur! Where did Y/n go?!" He desperately looks around for any sign of her, his voice urgent.
Arthur, startled by Oscar's sudden outburst, pauses their game and looks around. "I'm not sure, man. She said she was going to the bathroom, but that was a few minutes ago. Why?"
Despite his panic, Oscar's observant eye catches the sight of something through all the chaos. Glancing towards the door that leads to the garden outside, he sees it left slightly ajar.
"Hey, the door." he points out to Arthur without finishing his sentence. Understanding immediately, Oscar heads towards the door, knowing that Y/n might have gone outside.
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Y/n hurries outside, her vision blurred by the tears streaming down her face. She's on the verge of breaking down, the image of Marietta kissing Oscar still fresh in her mind. She feels betrayed and hurt, the weight of the situation bearing down on her as she seeks solace in the solitude of the outdoors.
The cool night air stings her flushed cheeks as she move aimlessly, the dim lamp posts casting long shadows across the garden paths.
Her steps falter as she hears Oscar's voice calling out to her from behind. The sound of his voice only serves to deepen the ache in her heart, a mix of anger and sadness welling inside her. Despite her urge to keep walking, she finds herself pausing, torn between the need to confront him and the desire to just keep running away.
Y/n steps into the small hedge maze, she moves with swift determination. Growing up alongside Sienna and Marietta, she had spent many hours playing in this maze, and it seemed that the memory of it was ingrained in her mind. She navigates through the dark twists and turns, knowing instinctively which path to take to reach the center.
All the while, Oscar follows close behind her, his footsteps audible in the midst of Y/n's sniffles and the quietness of the night. The maze seems isolating and yet eerily intimate, as if nature itself is enclosing them within it's emerald green walls.
The labyrintine path of the hedge maze seems to trap the sounds of their steps, creating and almost eerie effect as they move towards the center. Every few seconds, Y/n can hear Oscar's footsteps behind her, reminding her that he is still there, and they're getting closer to the heart of the maze, which feels more like a trap than a place of refuge.
Y/n increases her pace, desperately trying to lose Oscar in the maze. As her heart races, her tears fall even faster, creating a steady stream down her face. At last, she reaches the heart of the maze, a decent sized, circular clearing where two lone benches and limestone statue reside beneath the shadows of the tall hedges.
As Y/n regains her breath and looks around the clearing, her gaze falls upon the statue in the center. It is a sight that holds beauty and pain - for her at least. The statue depicts Marietta and Sienna's parents dancing on their wedding night, a frozen moment of joy and celebration carved out in stone.
The sight only serves to make Y/n's heartache deepen, the knowledge that the very garden she's standing in is Marietta's only adds another layer of complexity to her emotions.
Y/n curls into a tight ball on the bench, her knees pressed against her chest. The tears fall relentlessly, staining her face and pooling against the material of her dress, leaving dark patches on the otherwise pristine fabric. In this moment, she doesn't care about her appearance or the state of her clothes. It all seems trivial compared to the pain she's feeling.
Her soft sobs echo through the otherwise silent garden, creating a somber atmosphere. The shadows around her seem to wrap around her, almost as if they are trying to comfort her, but their efforts are in vain. The grief and hurt she feels are far too deep to be comforted by mere shadows of the night.
For the next several minutes, Y/n's emotional pain is her reality. Her tears flow freely, and her body shudders with each sob. There's no one else around to bear witness to her pain, only the silent, unfeeling stone of the statue and the endless night that seems to press down on her from all sides.
Y/n's tearful sobs are abruptly interrupted by the sudden appearance of Oscar, materializing from behind the statue like a ghost in the night. She hadn't expected him to reach the center from the opposite entrance, and her eyes widen slightly at his arrival.
Oscar approaches Y/n, his steps cautios and unsure. He's keenly aware of the turmoil he's caused, the hurt he's inflicted, and the sight of her tear-stained face only increases his guilt. He takes a seat next to her on the bench, his movements tentative and careful.
He hesitates as he stands next to the bench, his eyes on Y/n. He waits a beat before he musters up the courage to ask, his voice low and pleading, "Can I sit down too?"
Y/n doesn't respond immediately, her tear-streaked eyes remain fixed on the limestone statue. After a few moments, she gives a slight nod, indicating that he can sit beside her.
Oscar takes her silent gesture as permission, and slowly lowers himself onto the bench next to her. He leaves a small gap between them, respecting her need for space but still wanting to be close enough to talk to her.
Y/n finally speaks up, her voice slightly shaky and raw from crying. "That statue... It's Sienna's mom and dad on their wedding night."
She glances at the statue, her expressio unreadable. The sight that once seemed beautiful now only adds to the pain and hurt she's feeling.
Her words hang in the air between them, the statue's frozen dance of joy and celebration serving as a stark contrast to the despair and heartbreak that now pervades the center of the maze.
Y/n continues, her words laced with a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. "Tio Marcello, Sienna and Mariettas dad, he had this statue commissioned a little while after their wedding. He said it was a token of love and happiness, to forever remember that night..."
Her voice quivers a bit as she continues, the story taking on a ore poignant tone. "Especially because of what happened after... Tio Marcello and Tia Inez- Marietta's mom, got a divorce. Tio found out she was cheating on him with another man. It was a messy divorce, especially with Marietta still a toddler at that time."
Y/n's voice gains a hint of a smile as she continues. "He eventually found Tia Genevieve, and through her, he discovered what true love really means. That's why he had this statue made, to symbolize the love that endures, despite the heartache of the past."
She looks at the statue once more, her eyes tracing the frozen dance of the couple, eternalized in stone. "It's supposed to be inspirational, I guess... a reminder that love can prevail, even in the face of betrayal and pain.
"It's ironic... that it's here, in Marietta's garden," she says, with a bitter edge to her voice. The symbolism of the statue, against the backdrop of Marietta's actions is cruel, barbaric almost.
Y/n's words hang heavy in the air, the irony of the statues location not on either of them. The reminder of love and resilience, standing in the shadow of a betrayal and heartache, feels almost cruel, adding yet another layer of the complex emotions that fills the silence between them.
Oscar, who had been quietly listening, finally breaks the silence. His voice is soft and measured as he looks at Y/n, his eyes holding a mix of regret and determination.
"Y/n," he says, his voice filled with earnest sincerity. "I need to explain. I need to... I know I screwed up, and I need to talk to you. Can you listen to me, please?"
Y/n's gaze slowly turns towards him, her eyes still red and puffy from crying. Her expression is guarded, the pain in her eyes still evident. But she nods, a small gesture that indicates she's willing to hear himout.
Oscar exhales, relief flooding through him at her gesture. He hesitates for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he speaks. The silence between them is tense, the weight of the unspoken words between them hanging in the air like a guillotine.
Finally, Oscar begins, his voice is low and serious. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. I'm sorry for what you saw, for what you must be feeling right now. I can't even imagine..."
Oscar looks at Y/n, his expression is earnest and open. "Y/n, I need you to know that I didn't want that kiss. Marietta kissed me, not the other way around. I didn't want it, I rejected her. I... I love you, Y/n. You have to believe me."
His words are filled with earnestness and sincerity, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. He looks into her eyes, waiting for her to respond, to see if she believes him, to know he isn't lying.
The silence between them is deafening. Oscar's heart beats in his chest, his eyes pleading for Y/n to believe him. The only sound is the distant murmur of the party still going on inside, a stark contract to the quiet, intimate bubble they've created for themselves in the garden.
"Please," he whispers, his voice hoarse. "Please, believe me. I would never... I could never do that you. I love you, Y/n."
Oscar's eyes begin to glisten with tears as he speaks, his voice filled with a raw, emotional intensity. "I love you, Y/n. I've never felt this way about anyone before. My heart, my soul, everything I am is yours. I would never do anything to hurt you, I swear. You have to believe me. Please, I need you to believe me."
His tears fall now, unrestrained, as he pours his heart out to her. He reaches out a trembling hand, wanting to touch her, to hold her, but he hesitates, unsure if she'll allow it.
Y/n rises from the bench, the sudden movement causing Oscar to withdraw his extended hand. He looks at her, his eyes pleading, hoping for some sign, any sign, that she believes him
Y/n stands in front of Oscar, her eyes meeting his. The air is filled with tension, the emotional weight of the moment almost tangible. She doesn't speak, simply looks at him, her expression hard to read.
Oscar's heart pounds in his chest, his breath coming is shallow gasps. He sits there, his eyes locked on hers, to say something, anything. The silence is deafening, the seconds passing by like hours.
He hesitantly reaches out hs hand, his hands hovering a mere inch from her arm, not quite touching, but the intention clear. He wants to hold her, to pull her into his arms and never let her go.
Y/n suddenly moves towards Oscar, her body colliding with his own and pulling him into a tight hug. The unexpected embrace catches him off guard, but he responds immediately, wrapping his arms around her as she falls to her knees.
They sink to the ground, their bodies pressed so close together it's impossible to tell where one ends, and where the other begins. He holds her tightly, his chin resting against her shoulder, feeling the tears of relief dampen his shirt.
"I love you," he whispers, the words half-muffled by her hair. "I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. Please forgive me. I love you so much."
He pulls her even closer, clutching her as if she's the last solid thing in a world that's suddenly tilted on its axis. The sounds of the party from inside the house fade to the background, their world now reduced to this quiet, hidden corner of the garden.
For a moment, they stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms, the world around them completely forgotten. The only sound is their erratic breaths, the only touch their bodies pressed so closely together that it feels like one being.
As they hold each other, he lets out a soft, shuddering breath, the relief so profound it almost hurts. Her words break through the stillness of the night, her voice quiet but firm. "Even if it was on purpose... even if you wanted it... I still would've forgiven you."
Y/n's words, whispered into his ear, hit him like a truck. Even if it had been on purpose, even if he had wanted it, she would still forgive him? The idea is both humbling and incredibly saddening.
The words hang in the air, a profound declaration of love and trust. She speaks as if there's no doubt in her mind that she would forgive him, no matter the circumstances. The implication is clear - her love for him is deep, so boundless, that she'd overlook even the most grievous of transgressions.
A soft, shaky chuckle escapes Oscar as Y/n speaks. He pulls back slightly, looking down at her with a mixture of amusement and awe. "Don't say that baby," he says, his voice still slightly hoarse. "Please, do not say that. You're making me worry for your self-respect if you say things like that.
Y/n melts into Oscar's touch as his fingers gently brush away her tears. She looks up at him, her eyes still damp with tears but a soft smile on her lips. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice so soft it's almost a sigh.
The apology is heartfelt, tinged with a note of regret. It's not just for the tears or the emotional upheaval of the evening, but for the pain, the doubt, and the fear that she'd felt in her heart, even if her head told her all along that Oscar's loyalty was never in question.
Oscar shakes his head, his eyes soft as he gazes down at her. "No, don't apologize," he says, his voice low and sincere. "I'm the one who needs to apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for."
He cups her face gently with both hands, forcing her to look up at him, to see the earnestness in his eyes. "You're perfect, Y/n," he says, his voice filled with a desperate sort of tenderness. "You have every right to be hurt, to feel betrayed, to doubt…"
He continues, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on her cheeks, his touch so infinitely tender it almost hurts. "I would've done the exact same if the roles were reversed. I would be heartbroken, too, if I thought for even a second that you were unfaithful to me."
"But I need you to know," he says softly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "That it will never happen. I will never, ever betray you. I love you more than anything in this world. You are everything to me."
As Y/n nods, agreeing with his words, her tears still fresh on her cheeks, she leans in and kisses him. The kiss is salty, the taste of her tears mixing with the sweetness of her lips, creating an oddly beautiful combination. Oscar responds immediately, eagerly, his hands still cupping her face, his lips pressing against hers with a desperate kind of tenderness.
The kiss deepens, their bodies pressing even closer together, the heat of their bodies and the cold of the night creating a strange but delightful contrast. For a moment, all the stress, all the fear, all the doubt vanishes, leaving only this — this moment of absolute, unadulterated love and connection.
When they finally break apart, they're both a little breathless, a little dazed, a lot in love. The party continues to thump and pulse inside the house, but out here, in this small bubble of intimacy they've created, it's as if the rest of the world has faded completely away.
As the sound of the thunder echoes around them, Y/n glances up at the darkening skies and turns to Oscar. "We should probably get out of the maze," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of trepidation. "It's going to start pouring any minute now."
Oscar nods in agreement, reluctantly breaking their embrace, but still holding her hand tightly in his. They stand up, the reality of the storm outside forcing them back into the present. The maze, which had earlier seemed like a magical, secluded oasis, now feels almost menacing as the storm rolls in.
The rain begins to fall suddenly, fat droplets splattering against the paved path as the storm unleashed its fury upon the night. Y/n grabs Oscar's hand tightly, the cold droplets seeping into their skin as they begin a run for the greenhouse nearby, hoping to find shelter from the storm.
The greenhouse materializes through the heavy rain as they run, its glass walls barely visible in the pitch-black night. They reach the structure moments later, their breathing ragged and chests heaving as they step underneath the shelter of the greenhouse roof.
The greenhouse, once a warm, glass sanctuary, is now dimly lit by the artificial glow of the lights. Y/n finds the light switch and flips it on, casting the inside of the lighthouse in a faint yellow light that reflects off the glass panes. She then closes the door behind them, effectively sealing them inside as the storm rages on outside.
Y/n and Oscar stand for a moment just inside the greenhouse, taking in the sight of each other, the adrenaline from the run mixing with the leftover emotion from their previous conversation. They're both breathing heavily, their clothes slightly damp from the rain, their hearts still racing with the intensity of the recent events.
The tension from the moment earlier and the wild sprint from the maze give way to uncontrollable laughter as they stand there in the greenhouse. The laughter mixes with the sound of the rain against the glass, creating a strangely beautiful and almost surreal atmosphere.
They're both bent over slightly, clutching their stomachs as giggles and laughter escape them. They're not sure if it's the absurdity of the situation they've found themselves in, the relief from the earlier emotional upheaval, or just the sheer ridiculousness of running through a storm only to end up in a greenhouse.
Y/n, still giggling a bit, spots a chair near a metal outdoor table and sits down, the laughter now slowly subsiding to soft chuckles. She leans back in the chair, the hard lines of the metal contrasting with the soft lines of her body. Her eyes are still sparkling with humor and something else - maybe affection, maybe relief - as she looks up at Oscar.
Oscar walks over, his steps loose and relaxed after the sudden burst of laughter. He moves to the side of the table, hoisting himself up to sit on its surface, facing Y/n. There's a lazy, easy smile on his face, a stark contrast to the tension from earlier.
The space around them feels almost intimate in the dimly lit greenhouse, the sound of the rain outside creating a sort of soft, rhythmic counterpoint to the beating of their hearts. They sit in silence for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say, but both just taking in each other's presence.
Oscar reaches out towards her, brushing some wayward strands of hair away from her forehead. The gesture is tender, and gentle, as he pushes the damp locks away from her face. The pads of his fingers linger against her skin, the touch so familiar and loving, yet still sparking a small spark of electricity.
In the quiet, intimate atmosphere of the greenhouse, the simple act of tidying her hair suddenly feels like the most intimate thing. His fingers trace the line of her jaw, as if committing its curve to memory.
His gaze travels over her face, taking in every feature, every line, every tiny detail. In the faint light, he sees the traces of her tears, but also the flush of her cheeks, the glimmer in her eyes. She looks so beautiful, so vulnerable, and so completely his in this moment.
Oscar leans in, his eyes still locked on hers. The kiss is soft, gentle, filled with all the love and relief he feels in that moment. His hand, still close to her face, moves downwards, cupping her chin, holding her face in place so he can kiss her thoroughly, desperately.
It's as if all the fear, all the doubt, all the uncertainty from earlier has vanished. Now, there's only this – the taste of her lips, the heat of her skin, the sound of her breath mixing with his. The greenhouse becomes a cocoon, sealing them off from the storm outside, and the rest of the world.
Their kiss breaks, leaving them both a little breathless once more. A soft, giddy laugh escapes Y/n, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of joy, affection, and residual laughter. She looks like a teenager who's just had her first kiss, with flushed cheeks and a wide, unashamed smile on her lips.
Oscar watches her, the sight of her joy and innocence filling him with a fond, almost protective kind of warmth. There's a softness in his eyes as he looks at her, his own lips curving into a smile at her reaction.
"You look like a high schooler who's just had her first kiss," he teases, the amusement clear in his voice even as his look remains incredibly fond.
Y/n, seemingly oblivious to the slight edge of huskiness in his voice, grins wider, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Do I?" she asks, her tone faux-innocent, her cheeks still a little pink.
Y/n's gaze drifts towards the corner of the greenhouse, catching sight of an old-fashioned record player sitting there. Her eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, the old piece of technology somewhat out of place in the modern setting of the greenhouse.
Her eyes linger on it for a moment, the sudden appearance of the record player piquing her curiosity. She looks back at Oscar, a question forming on her lips. "Is that thing still working?" she asks, nodding in the direction of the record player.
Oscar follows her gaze to the record player, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Only one way to find out," he replies, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
He hops down from the table, his footsteps light and almost silent on the tiled floor of the greenhouse. He crosses over to the record player, crouching down to examine it. He gives it a light tap, as if to see if it'll magically come to life.
Y/n lets out a soft, slightly tipsy giggle as she watches Oscar tinker with the record player. The effect of the alcohol in her system is still quite apparent, adding a giggly, almost carefree vibe to her behavior.
She stands up, her steps a bit less steady than usual from the earlier alcohol consumption. She moves over to where Oscar is crouched beside the record player, joining him in his inspection of the old piece of machinery.
Y/n, a little giggly but very much curious, bends down beside Oscar and rummages through the collection of records next to the player. After a moment, she pulls out a worn vinyl record, its cover slightly faded but still clearly displaying the title "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis Presley.
She holds it up, her eyes dancing with excitement as she shows it to Oscar. "Look what I found," she says, her voice tinged with an almost childlike glee.
The record is old, and clearly well-loved, and it gives off a certain nostalgia that's fitting for the greenhouse setting. The song choice is ironic, given the events of the evening, but in a way, it feels almost prophetic.
The lyrics of the song, a classic declaration of undying love, seem to echo the emotions they've been going through the entire night. It's as if the universe is playing a game, leaving hints and signs in the most unexpected places.
The song, in its simplicity and sincerity, feels like a perfect soundtrack for the night. The rain outside is still falling, the room is still dim, and yet, the mood inside the greenhouse is almost strangely romantic.
Oscar takes in the sight of the record and the song title, a slow smile spreading across his face. He glances at Y/n, the irony of the song choice not lost on him. "Elvis, huh?" he asks, his voice laced with humor and affection.
Y/n grins, the smile on her face wide and bright. "Can't help falling in love, right?" she quips, her words a little slurred but filled with a joyous, almost drunken honesty.
Oscar snorts out a laugh, the sound a mixture of amusement and fondness. "Very fitting," he replies, taking the record from her and looking it over.
Oscar takes the record from Y/n and gently places it onto the player. For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of the rain and the soft, almost expectant silence inside the greenhouse. Then, a soft crackling sound fills the air, the old record player coming to life after a beat.
A second later, the soft, melodic tones of "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis Presley start to fill the greenhouse.
Wise men say, only fools rush in But I can't help falling with you.
Oscar, with a soft, almost tender smile on his face, turns to Y/n and holds out a hand to her. "Care to dance?" he asks, his voice smooth and silky. The soft, romantic tones of the song in the background seem like the perfect invitation.
Y/n, her eyes still sparkling with a tipsy sort of glee, grins from ear to ear. She places her hand in his, her fingers fitting perfectly with his. "I thought you'd never ask," she teases, her words slurring just a bit but filled with unabashed anticipation.
Take my hand, take my whole life too, For I can't help falling in love with you.
Oscar pulls her closer, his other hand coming around to rest on the fabric of her back. She molds herself against him, their bodies pressing against each other rhythmically as they start to sway to the music.
Like a river flows, surely to the sea, Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be
The atmosphere inside the greenhouse is now almost dreamlike, the dim light, the soft rain, the old record player, and the soft music creating a scene like out of a movie. They dance together, their movements slow, intimate, their bodies responding to each other as if in a well-rehearsed routine.
There's no fancy footwork, no complicated steps. They're just swaying back and forth, the music guiding their movements. Yet, in this simple act, there's a sort of raw, vulnerable intimacy. They're not just dancing – they're holding each other, feeling each other, silently saying all the things they can't quite voice in that moment.
The lyrics of the song float around them, wrapping them in a cocoon of tender sentimentality. The words "For I can't help falling in love with you" seem to echo in the air as they spin around in slow, languorous movements.
They're not exactly graceful, occasionally tripping over each other's feet. But they laugh it off, the clumsiness of the moment adding to the charm. The song reaches its crescendo, the chorus coming back for another round. Oscar pulls her just a bit closer, his arms holding her tighter as they dance beneath the dim light.
The world outside could've fallen apart, and they wouldn't have noticed. Right now, this moment, this dance, is the only thing that matters. The rain continues to fall outside, the greenhouse protecting them from the storm, and inside, they're dancing like there's no tomorrow, their bodies pressed together, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating in sync.
The song reaches its end, the final notes of "Can't Help Falling in Love" trailing off softly. The record player clicks, indicating the end of the song, and the greenhouse is silent again, save for the sound of the rain outside and their soft breaths, a little heavier from the intensity of the dance.
They stand there, their arms still wrapped around each other, not quite ready to let go just yet. They're both a little breathless from the dance, their bodies close, their heartbeats still a little faster than usual. Y/n remains pressed against him, her cheek against his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt warm and comforting.
Oscar gently releases Y/n from his arms, reluctantly letting go of the intimacy of the moment. He carefully takes the vinyl record and places it back in its place among the others. As he does so, he glances back at Y/n, the sight of her still a little flush and out of breath from the dance stirring something protective and affectionate inside him.
The record is placed back, and the vinyl collection is neatly arranged once more. Oscar turns back to Y/n, his eyes sweeping over her, taking in the sight of her tousled hair and slightly disheveled state. There's a soft, almost tender smile on his lips as he steps closer to her, his hands itching to reach out and touch her again.
The space between them feels charged now, the recent dance leaving them both feeling a bit raw and vulnerable. Oscar takes another step closer, his eyes locked on her face, drinking in the details. The dim light of the greenhouse casts shadows across her face, making her look both vulnerable and incredibly beautiful at the same time.
Y/n looks out at the rain, which is still falling heavily, and then back at Oscar. "What should we do now?" she asks, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "It's still raining too hard to go back."
Oscar follows her gaze out the greenhouse door, peering out into the rain-soaked night. The rain is still falling with a steady intensity, the sound of it creating a soothing yet continuous white noise. He turns his attention back to her, his expression thoughtful for a moment before a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Looks like we're stuck here a bit longer," he notes, leaning against the table and crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes remain on her, taking in the sight of her, as he seems to contemplate something.
There's a certain sort of tension in the air now, the knowledge that they're trapped there together for a while longer giving the situation a new quality. The rain continues its monotonous pitter-patter against the glass panes, creating a sort of isolating atmosphere that feels almost intimate.
Oscar watches Y/n, the silence between them almost a tangible thing. The rain outside and the enclosed space of the greenhouse make the atmosphere feel secluded, almost surreal, as if they're the only two people in the world right now.
The sounds of the rain and the relative dimness of the light create a cocoon-like feeling, cutting them off from the rest of the world. Oscar's eyes remain fixed on Y/n, studying her almost, his gaze occasionally flickering down to her lips before returning to her eyes.
The moment stretches on, the silence both comforting and slightly charged. Oscar looks like he has something to say, but he remains silent, seemingly wrestling with some sort of internal debate. Y/n feels his gaze on her, his eyes lingering on her face, her lips, and occasionally on her hair.
After a beat, Oscar finally breaks the silence, his voice dropping to a low, almost gravelly tone. "You know, this rain is quite something," he mused, his words a barely-veiled attempt to keep the conversation going, to fill the silence that was settling between them.
Y/n grins, a breathless but amused laugh escaping her. "You're trying to make small talk, aren't you?" she responds, the playfulness in her tone clearly showing that she's not fooled by his attempt.
Oscar feigns innocence, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Me, trying to make small talk? Never," he replies, his tone deliberately casual, but his eyes betraying his amusement.
Y/n laughs again, her eyes sparkling with a mix of humor and affection. She knows he's bullshitting, and he knows she knows. But it's part of their bantering dynamic, and it's almost comforting in its familiarity.
The rain continues to fall outside, the sound of it providing a sort of background white noise to their conversation. Oscar regards her with a half-smirk of playful resignation, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and something a little darker, more intense.
They move over to the chairs, their movements somewhat less than graceful due to the alcohol in their systems. They both sink into the seats, a mutual sigh escaping them as they get comfortable. The rain continues to fall outside, the pitter-patter of the water against the glass adding a cozy, relaxing sort of atmosphere inside the greenhouse.
Y/n, still a bit tipsy but feeling relaxed and comfortable, looks around the greenhouse, admiring the lush plants and cozy set-up. "I've always wanted to have a greenhouse," she confesses, her tone a mix of wistfulness and satisfaction. "I love being surrounded by plants and nature. It's so calming."
Y/n's expression softens, her gaze drifting around the greenhouse as she thinks about her past. "This greenhouse, and the hedge maze outside, are honestly where some of the happiest moments in my life have taken place," she says, her voice slightly hushed, as if she's lost in memories.
Y/n snorts out a laugh, a fond smile on her face as she recalls a memory from her childhood. "You know, this is gonna sound silly, but that hedge maze outside is where Sienna asked me to be her best friend when we were five years old," she says, amusement and nostalgia mixing in her tone.
"We were just a couple of little kids, running around in that maze, giggling and chasing each other. She suddenly stopped, turned to me, and very seriously said 'I want you to be my best friend.' I remember thinking she said it with such gravitas, as if it was the most important thing in the world," she adds, her eyes going a little soft as she reminisces.
Y/n's expression turns a bit sadder now, but there's also a note of sweetness in her eyes as she recalls another memory. "And this greenhouse was where my dad danced with me the night before my 18th birthday," she says, her tone tinged with a mix of nostalgia and melancholy. "He said it was because he wanted to have some time alone with his little girl before she turned into a lady."
She pauses, a soft smile on her face. "We danced to some old, cheesy love songs, and he jokingly called me his princess. I remember feeling so grown up, special… and a little scared about what turning 18 would mean," she confesses, the memory painting a picture of a younger, more innocent version of herself.
Y/n's expression softens further, a tender, almost affectionate smile playing on her lips. "And here I am, dancing with the love of my life," she says, her words filled with an underlying note of gratitude and irony. It's a moment that feels like both a bittersweet memory and a present-day reality.
She locks eyes with Oscar, a flood of emotions clear in her gaze — affection, admiration, a hint of vulnerability. The greenhouse feels like a sort of sacred space, filled with memories and emotions that are both poignant and cherished.
Oscar smiles at Y/n, his eyes reflecting a mix of affection and curiosity. He seems to mull over a question for a moment before finally voicing it, his tone inquisitive but casual. "Can I ask you something?" he asks, his gaze drifting to her face. He waits for her to nod before continuing, "How are you and Sienna connected?"
Y/n nods, her expression taking on a nostalgic look as she explains. "Our fathers are best friends. They grew up together, just like Sienna and I did," she says, her voice carrying a note of familiarity and closeness. "So, naturally, our families are super close. We've practically grown up together. She's more a sister than a best friend at this point."
There's a fondness in her tone, a clear affection and connection with Sienna that goes deeper than just friendship. The knowledge that their families are tied together - their fathers being practically brothers - gives their relationship an extra layer of significance and history.
Y/n adds, her voice dropping to a quiet, almost reflective tone. "And you know, my mom moved to Australia to study high school, that's where she met your mom and all that. Then my mom went back to Monaco to study business, and my parents met in college. They eventually moved together to Italy."
Her words describe a life that's been somewhat chaotic but also filled with connections and meaningful moments. It's a life that's full of stories and history, a life that's shaped her in ways even she might not fully understand.
Y/n continues, a faraway look in her eyes as she recalls the events. "We only stayed here until I was 10, then we moved to Monaco because of some family issues on my mother's side," she says, her voice almost whispering the words, like they're part of a half-forgotten memory.
The mention of 'family problems' stirs up a myriad of unspoken implications, perhaps hinting at complexities and hardships in her family history.
Y/n continues, her voice taking on a more light-hearted tone. "When we moved into our new house in Monaco, it turns out that Arthur and Sienna are cousins, but neither of us- the children, knew till our families all ended up in Italy."
She chuckles a bit, the coincidence of it all adding an almost comedic element to the tale. Families, friends, and history are all interconnected in unforeseen and amusing ways.
The mention of families mixing together, with Arthur and Sienna being cousins, adds another layer to their familial web. It's a reminder that families can be as complex as they are close-knit, and sometimes, it takes moving countries to reveal these hidden connections. The humor in discovering such a connection after their move adds a touch of hilarity to the situation.
Y/n suddenly snaps out of her reminiscent state, her eyes widening slightly as she realizes how much she's said. A sheepish expression appears on her face, and she apologizes, her voice a tad embarrassed. "Oh, I'm sorry," she says, a small, self-conscious laugh escaping her. "I got a bit carried away there. Sorry for rambling so much."
Oscar, sensing her slight embarrassment, quickly reassures her. "No, it's fine," he says, his tone warm and encouraging. "Keep talking. I like hearing your voice."
His words are a testament to his interest in what she's saying, but also his desire to keep their conversation going, to keep learning more about her - her past, her thoughts, her feelings. It's a small, but meaningful gesture of interest and intimacy between them.
Y/n smiles, her embarrassment fading away a bit at his reassurance. She appreciates his interest and the fact that he actually enjoys listening to her. It gives her an unexpected boost of confidence, making her feel more comfortable and at ease.
Y/n, encouraged by his words and the comfortable atmosphere between them, continues talking. She picks up where she left off, her voice soft and thoughtful as she dives back into her recollection.
As she speaks, the rain continues to fall in a steady but less aggressive rhythm outside, adding a soothing soundtrack to their conversation.
Y/n observes the rain outside, noticing that it's started to lighten up a bit. She sighs, her expression showing a mix of reluctance and knowing. "Looks like the rain's starting to let up," she says, a note of resignation in her voice. "We should probably head back."
There's a pause, both of them seeming to acknowledge that their private sanctuary in the greenhouse is coming to an end. They'll have to return to the hustle and bustle of the party, though they both seem a little reluctant to leave the peaceful solitude they've found.
At Y/n's suggestion, Oscar starts to rise from his seat, pushing off the table and standing up. He stretches, his body a bit stiff from sitting in the same position for quite a while. As he straightens up, he runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it a bit.
As they both make their way towards the door, Oscar, ever the gentleman, opens it for her, gesturing for her to walk through first. He waits until she's outside before following her, stepping out into the night air.
Once outside, they find the rain has indeed lessened, though it's still not completely stopped. The air is cool and crisp, a welcome respite from the stifling atmosphere inside the greenhouse. The sounds of the party have lessened somewhat, but there's still a buzz of activity in the distance.
They walk side by side, their hands intertwined as they make their way back to the main house. They walk slowly, their pace leisurely, neither in a hurry to return to the party. The night air is cool against their skin, and the distant sounds of the party provide a faint, almost soothing background noise.
As they walk back towards the house, Oscar looks over at her and asks, "Do you want to go home?" His voice is casual, but his gaze is searching, hoping for a favorable response.
Oscar suggests, a hint of genuine concern laced in his words. "You can always ask your father if we can go home. You can say you're not feeling well."
Y/n pondered the thought for a moment, her expression contemplating. Oscar's suggestion was not bad; it would certainly explain their early exit from the party. But she didn't want to cause a scene or make her father worry unnecessarily.
Still, the more she thought about it, the more the idea seemed appealing. She did feel a bit drained and was slightly tipsy. But there was also a part of her that didn't want the night to end just yet.
After a moment of hesitation, Y/n nodded. "Sure," she said, her voice a bit reluctant but determined. "I'll ask my dad if we can go home."
As they enter the living room, it's clear that they've both been caught in the rain. Their clothes are a bit damp, leaving small droplets of water on the floor. The sounds of the party that were previously muffled by the rain now become clear again, the hum of conversation and soft music filling the air.
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They make their way into the dining room, the hum of conversation filling their ears as they enter. The adults, including Y/n's parents, are still engaged in their discussions, wine glasses in hand and faces flushed with the effects of alcohol.
Y/n's gaze automatically drifts towards her father, who is sitting at the table, surrounded by other adults. He's engaged in conversation, sipping from a wine glass, looking every bit the successful businessman he is. Noticing her and Oscar's entry, her father looks up, a brief glance at their soaked clothes and Y/n's face giving away her slightly tipsy state.
He raises an eyebrow in question, his gaze flickering over Y/n and Oscar. Seeing their drenched state and Y/n's tipsy appearance, it's clear he's expecting an explanation.
Y/n clears her throat, her heart beating a tad bit faster under her father's scrutinizing gaze. She steps forward, her eyes holding his for a moment before speaking. "Dad," she starts, her voice steady despite the slight buzz she's feeling, "I'm not feeling too well. Can Oscar and I go home?"
Her father regards her quietly for a moment, assessing her state. His expression doesn't give away his thoughts, but his eyes seem to linger on her flushed cheeks and slightly glassy eyes. Everyone else's conversation has gone quiet, and several pairs of eyes are now on them.
After a moment, her father nods, his expression slightly stern. "Alright," he says, his voice loud enough for the others to hear. "You two can head home. Drive safely, and make sure to text me when you get there, Y/n."
The other adults offer their goodbyes and well-wishes, a mixture of amusement and concern in their faces. Y/n's mother, a bit tipsy herself, pats Y/n on the cheek a little too hard, her words slurring slightly. "Be careful, love."
Y/n nods at her mother's words, forcing a thin smile on her face. She feels Oscar's presence beside her, his hand finding hers once again, an unspoken comfort in the gesture. They take a last moment to say goodbye to the adults, before finally making their way towards the exit.
As they head towards the exit, Y/n spots Marietta, their eyes meeting across the room. Despite the distance, there's something in Marietta's gaze that makes Y/n pause for a brief moment. It's a look that's a mix of curiosity and something else that Y/n can't quite decipher. The moment is over almost as quickly as it began, and Y/n and Oscar step outside, leaving the party behind.
As they approach the car, Oscar dutifully opens the passenger side door for her, a gallant gesture that's becoming familiar between them. Y/n smiles at him, a little bit of a tipsy blush on her face, appreciating his chivalry.
She gets into the car, the soft interior enveloping her in its familiar comfort. As Oscar closes the door behind her, she leans back against the leather seat, feeling a wave of fatigue mixed with the lingering effects of the alcohol.
She watches as Oscar walks around the car to the driver's side. It's a sight she's seen countless times before, but there's a sort of domestic intimacy about it that she finds oddly soothing in her slightly inebriated state.
Once Oscar gets into the car, he starts the engine, the low hum of the vehicle breaking the silence. He glances over at her, his expression a mix of concern and affection. "You okay?" he asks, his voice betraying a slight worry.
Y/n nods, her eyelids heavy and just a little bit unsteady. She offers him a small smile, trying to appear more put together than she feels at the moment. "I'm fine," she assures him, her words a tad bit slurred but mostly coherent.
Oscar looks at her for a moment longer, his gaze searching her face for any sign of discomfort. After a moment, he seems somewhat satisfied, his eyes turning back to the road. "Alright," he says, his tone gentle, "just relax, okay? We'll be home soon."
Y/n nods again, her eyelids feeling heavier by the minute. She lets out a soft sigh, the hum of the engine and the soft light of the street lamps outside creating a drowsy atmosphere in the car.
She pulls out her phone from her purse, the screen lighting up her face in the darkened car. Her movements are a bit sluggish, and her alcohol-impaired brain takes a bit longer to process simple actions. She starts to scroll through her phone, her fingers gliding across the screen as she absently checks her notifications.
She manages to muster enough coordination to connect her phone to the car's Bluetooth speakers, her eyes still flicking to Oscar's face every now and then. A moment later, music begins to play through the speakers, filling the car with a soft, sultry rhythm.
As she's scrolling through her phone, she suddenly feels a warmth on her thigh. It takes her a moment to realize it's Oscar's hand, his fingers gently brushing against the bare skin under her dress, sending a shiver down her spine. Her eyes widen slightly, her heart rate picking up as the realization sinks in, the touch both unexpected and not unwelcome.
The sudden feeling of his hand on her skin, the warmth of his touch against her bare thigh, is a sharp contrast to the coolness of the night air that wafts in from outside. She glances over at him, his gaze focused on the road ahead, but there's a slight smirk on his lips, a hint that he knows exactly what he's doing.
The realization that he's intentionally trying to tease her, the audacity of him to do this while he's driving, combined with the alcohol-clouded state, makes her feel a mix of irritation and a strange sort of arousal. She wants to say something, to protest, but the words get stuck in her throat, the touch of his hand on her thigh making thinking difficult.
Y/n manages to summon the presence of mind to speak, her words a mixture of playfulness and feigned annoyance. "Really Oz?" she says, her voice a tad bit breathless. The hand on her thigh continues to move, his thumb lightly tracing small circles against her skin. Oscar glances over at her, that smirk still on his lips.
"What?" he asks, his tone innocent, though the look in his eyes tells her he knows exactly what he's doing. "I'm just driving," he chuckles, his hand giving a gentle squeeze.
The subtle movement his hand makes, the way his fingers seem to be purposefully tracing a path up and down her inner thigh, serves as a constant, distracting reminder of his presence. It's clear that he's enjoying her reaction, the way her breath hitches a little, the way she tries to keep her composure.
Despite her efforts to appear unruffled, the effect his touch is having on her is undeniable. Her body betrays her, the warm wave of desire pooling in her core, her mind fuzzy from the alcohol and the distraction of his touch. It's a game they often play, a silent push and pull of control and surrender, and tonight, it seems like he's determined to have his way.
He occasionally glances over at her, his eyes glittering with a mix of amusement and desire. The car glides through the quiet streets, the only sounds are the hum of the engine and their heavy breathing. His hand never leaves her thigh, his touch both a comfort and a source of delicious torment.
After what feels like an eternity, the car finally reaches the gates of Y/n's house. The imposing iron gates swing open quietly at the press of a button, and the car glides into the property, the headlights illuminating the path leading to the house.
As they pull into the driveway, the rain chooses that moment to start pouring heavily, the sound of it hitting the windows and roof of the car creating a soothing symphony. It almost seems like it's the only noise in the world, the silence inside the car adding to the intimate atmosphere.
Oscar parks the car, but it's slightly far from the house due to the crowded cars in front of the entrance. The rain beats against the windows, the soft tapping sound combining with the hum of the car's engine.
"Looks like we'll have to walk a bit," he says, his voice low and quiet. The rain is still pouring, the droplets hitting the ground and bouncing off the pavement, creating little streams that run down the driveway.
Y/n nods, the rain not really a deterrent in her slightly tipsy state. "I don't mind," she says, her voice a bit breathless. Despite her nonchalance, she's keenly aware of how her dress is sticking to her skin due to the dampness of the rain.
As the rain continues to pour, Oscar and Y/n step out of the car, both of them immediately getting drenched under the rain. The water soaks through their clothes, making the thin fabric cling to their bodies. Despite the cold, the rain seems to have the opposite effect, the feeling of the water on their skin adding an element of sensuality to the atmosphere.
With the rain falling so heavily, there's not really any time to waste. They quickly make their way to the front door, both of them running a little faster than usual, their clothes sticking to them like a second skin. The rain pelts down on them, the cold water mixing with the adrenaline of the moment.
They reach the door, both of them a bit breathless, their hair dripping with rain. Y/n fumbles with her keys for a moment, her hands shaky from both the rain and the alcohol. Finally, she manages to unlock the door, and they quickly step inside.
Despite the cold and wetness, Y/n can't help but giggle a little as she puts her purse on the table and takes out her phone. The alcohol is still humming in her veins, making her feel a bit more carefree than usual. She gives her phone a distracted glance, her attention more focused on the state of her clothes and the feeling of the rain-soaked clothes sticking to her skin.
Y/n fishes for her phone in her purse, her fingers fumbling a bit from the cold and her slightly tipsy state. Once she finds it, she quickly types a text message to her father.
"Hi Papa, we're back at home. We made it safe," she types, her words a little slurred but relatively coherent.
As she's in the middle of sending the text, she suddenly feels a pair of arms wrapping around her from behind, and a pair of warm lips brushing against the exposed side of her neck. The unexpected touch makes her gasp in surprise, the phone almost slipping from her grip.
Oscar moves his lips to her ear, whispering his words directly into it, the warmth of his breath sending little shivers down her spine. "You look beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse with desire.
His hand slides down her waist, his touch light yet possessive, as if marking his territory. He pulls her closer to him, his body pressed against hers so that she can feel the heat and hardness of him against her.
"You have no idea how you look right now," he continues, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "Dripping wet in that dress, your hair all wet and messy," he growls, his hand gripping her hip, his fingers slightly digging into her flesh through the fabric.
His words send a rush of heat through her, the combination of his touch and his words making it hard to think straight. She can feel her body responding to him instinctively, her skin prickling with desire, her breath coming in short gasps.
She leans back against him, her head lolling slightly to the side to give him more access to her neck, silently egging him on with her body. His touch is both tender and demanding, his words a mixture of praise and need.
Y/n turns around in the circle of his arms, her body still flush against his, her wet dress sticking to his shirt, creating an intimate and possessive barrier between them. Without hesitation, she kisses him, her lips meeting his in a heated and demanding embrace.
As she jumps up, wrapping her legs around his waist, he responds instantly, his hands automatically going to her thighs, supporting her weight and pulling her closer to him. The feeling of her body pressed against his, the heat and weight of her in his arms, it's all overwhelming and unbelievably arousing.
The kiss continues, their bodies pressed so tightly together that they seem to have melded into one, their mouths devouring each other hungrily. His hands run up and down her thighs, the feel of her skin, still slightly damp from the rain, driving him wild.
He takes a few steps back, leaning against the nearest wall, supporting Y/n as he does. Their mouths continue to move against each other, the kiss deep and consuming. His hands pull her closer, his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs as if he could never get her close enough.
After what feels like an eternity, Oscar finally breaks the kiss, his breath coming fast and harsh against her lips. He takes a moment to catch his breath, his hands still holding her against him.
"Your room or mine?" he whispers hoarsely, his voice a low rumble against her ear.
Y/n manages to find her voice, her words coming out a little breathless. "My room," she says, a hint of neediness in her tone. "We already did it in yours."
Oscar carries her all the way upstairs, his hands still gripping her thighs, the feeling of her body against his making it hard for him to focus on anything else. The trip up the stairs seems to take forever, each step bringing them closer to the privacy and intimacy of her room.
Y/n moaned, her hands tangling in Oscar's hair, pulling him closer. Their bodies pressed together, their clothes doing little to hide their arousal. Oscar lightly kicks the door to her bedroom, his impatience and need for her getting the better of him
He sets Y/n down gently on her feet, his hands never leaving her body. He steps back, his eyes raking over her, drinking in her curves, visible through her damp dress.
Oscar reaches behind her, finding the zipper of her dress. Slowly, he pulled it down, his knuckles brushing against her spine, sending shivers down her body. The dress falls open, revealing her bare skin, her breath hitching as the cool air hits her.
Oscar's eyes darken with desire, his hands reaching for the straps of her dress, pushing them off her shoulders, letting the material slide down her body, pooling at her feet.
Y/n stood before Oscar, her dress discarded, her body on full display. Her bare breasts rose and fell with each breath, her nipples hardened peaks, begging for touch. Her white lace panties were damp, the evidence of her arousal visible.
His eyes roamed over her, his gaze hungry, his body hungry with need. "You're beautiful Y/n," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
Y/n blushed, her hands reaching for Oscar, pulling him closer. "And you're overdressed," she whispered, her voice a sultry whisper.
Oscar laughed, his hands moving to his shirt, unbuttoning it quickly. He shrugged it off, tossing it aside, his chest bare, his muscles defined.
Y/n's eyes widened, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Much better," she murmured, her hands reaching for him, her fingers tracing the lines of his abdomen.
Y/n kicked her dress aside, breaking the kiss, her eyes filled with desire. She pushed Oscar back, causing him to sit down on the edge of the bed. She followed, dropping to her knees in front of him.
Her hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it, her fingers deft as she unbuttoned his pants, lowering the zipper. She looked up at Oscar, her eyes filled with hunger. "I want to taste you," she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper.
Y/n leaned in, her breath hot against Oscar's length, her tongue darting out to lick the tip, tasting the bead of pre-cum. She smirked, her eyes meeting his. "You like that, don't you, Oscar?" she teased, her voice a low purr.
Oscar groaned, his hands fisting the sheets beneath him. "Yes, Y/n, please," he begged, his voice thick with need.
Y/n chuckled, her fingers wrapping around his base, guiding him to her mouth. She took him in, her lips stretching around his width, her tongue swirling around his shaft. She took him deeper, her throat relaxing, taking him whole, her nose pressing against his abdomen.
Oscar let out a low moan, his hands reaching for Y/n's hair, guiding her movements. "God, Y/n, you look so pretty taking my cock in your mouth," he praised, his voice filled with desire.
Y/n hummed, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through Oscar. She began to move, her head bobbing, her tongue working in tandem with her lips, creating a rhythm that had Oscar's toes curling.
His hands tightened in her hair, his hips bucking slightly, his body responding to her ministrations. "That feels so good, baby," he groaned, his voice strained.
Y/n continued, her movements becoming more enthusiastic, her suction increasing. She could feel Oscar's body tensing, his release approaching.
Suddenly, pulled her off him, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Stop, Y/n, I don't want to cum like this," he said, his voice firm but gentle.
Y/n pouted, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. "Why not?" she asked, her voice somewhat complaining.
Oscar smiled, his hands reaching for Y/n, pulling her up onto the bed with him. "Because I want to cum inside you," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
Oscar moved Y/n, gently laying her down on her back, his eyes filled with desire as he looked at Y/n. "But first, I want to watch you," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Play with yourself for me, Y/n. Show me how you want to be touched."
"Show me what you like, Y/n. Touch yourself for me," Oscar urged, his voice thickening with desire. "I want to see you pleasure yourself, baby."
Y/n bit her lip, her cheeks flushing at Oscar's request. But the desire in his eyes was too much to resist. She lay back, her hands sliding down her body, her fingers hooking into the sides of her panties, slowly pulling them off.
Oscar watched, his eyes darkening with desire as Y/n stripped for him. He stood at the end of the bed, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it slowly, matching the rhythm of Y/n's movements.
Y/n spread her legs, her fingers finding her center, rubbing slow circles over her clit. She let out a soft moan, her back arching, her body responding to her touch.
Oscar's grip tightened, his strokes becoming more urgent. "That's it, Y/n, show me how you like it," he urged, his voice thick with need.
Y/n's fingers plunged into her depths, her moans growing louder, her body writhing. "Oscar, I want you," she gasped, her eyes meeting his. "I want you to fuck me, hard. I want you to fuck me until I can't remember my own name."
She switched to rubbing her clit, her movements frantic, her body chasing its release. "I want to feel you, Oscar, fill me up, make me yours. I want you to fuck me senseless."
Y/n's breathing grew heavier, her fingers moving faster, her body tensing. "Oscar, please," she begged, her voice desperate. "I need you inside me, now. I can't wait any longer. Please, fuck me, make me cum, make me scream your name."
Her body convulsed, her orgasm approaching. "Oscar, please, I need you," she pleaded, her eyes filled with desperation.
Oscar suddenly grabbed Y/n's wrists, pulling her hands away from her pussy. She let out a cry of frustration, her body arching, seeking release.
"No," Oscar said firmly, his voice a low growl. "The only way you're going to cum tonight is by my mouth, my fingers, or my cock. Understand?"
Y/n whimpered, her body trembling with need. "Yes, I understand," she whispered, her eyes filled with desire and frustration.
Oscar smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "Good girl," he praised, his voice soft. He picked up Y/n's discarded panties, holding them up to her face. "Now, be quiet for me, alright? Or else I'll have to find something to keep that pretty mouth of yours busy."
He held the panties near her lips, his eyebrow raised in warning. "Understood?"
Y/n nodded frantically, her eyes wide. "Yes, Oz," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She pressed her lips together, her body trembling with anticipation and excitement.
Oscar grinned, pleased with Y/n's compliance. He positioned himself between her legs, his hands gripping her thighs, lifting them up, opening her to him.
He leaned in, his tongue finding her center, licking her from bottom to top. Y/n let out a soft moan, her body jerking, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her.
Oscar looked up, his eyes meeting hers. "Remember our deal," he reminded her, his voice a low warning.
Y/n nodded, biting her lip to keep from making noise. Oscar smiled, his tongue delving into her depths, his fingers joining in, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come.
She struggled to remain silent, her moans building, her body writhing under Oscar's expert touch. She bit her lip, her nails digging into her palms, trying to keep quiet.
Oscar could sense her struggle, his tongue and fingers working in tandem, bringing her closer to the edge. Just as Y/n thought she couldn't take it anymore, Oscar stopped, his head lifting, his eyes meeting hers.
"Be quiet, Y/n," he warned, his voice stern. "Or else."
Y/N let out a shaky breath, her body still tingling from Oscar's touch. "I'm sorry" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. She bit her lip, her eyes filled with determination. "I'll be good, I promise."
Oscar smiled, satisfied with Y/n's apology. He lowered his head, his tongue finding her clit, sucking it into his mouth, his fingers plunging into her depths.
Y/n let out a soft gasp, her body arching, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. She bit her lip, her eyes squeezed shut, determined to stay quiet.
Just as Oscar's fingers found that sweet spot inside Y/n, she let out a loud moan, her body convulsing. Oscar immediately stopped, looking up at her with a disapproving glare.
"Naughty girl," he chided, grabbing her panties. Before Y/n could react, he stuffed them into her mouth, gagging her. "There, that should keep you quiet."
Her eyes widened, surprise and humiliation flashing across her face. She mumbled something incoherent, her body squirming, trying to remove the makeshift gag.
Oscar held her thighs down, preventing her from moving. "Uh-uh, none of that," he scolded, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "You wanted to be fucked senseless, didn't you? Well, we can't have you screaming the house down, now can we?"
He leaned back in, his tongue resuming its assault on Y/n's pussy. "And I can't have you screaming my name," he murmured, his voice muffled. "Not with your parents due home anytime. Wouldn't want to ruin my good impression."
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Despite the gag, Y/n's moans and whines continued to escape, filling the room. Oscar pulled away, his brow furrowing in disapproval.
"Enough," he said firmly, giving her pussy a sharp slap. Y/N jumped, her body jerking, her eyes widening in surprise and pain. She let out a muffled squeak, her body stilling.
Oscar looked up at Y/n, his expression serious. "If you want to cum tonight, you're going to need to be a good girl," he said, his voice firm. "No more noises, understand? You can nod if you do."
Y/n hesitated for a moment before nodding reluctantly, her eyes filled with determination. Oscar smiled, pleased with her compliance. "Good girl," he praised, before diving back in, his tongue and fingers working in tandem, bringing Y/n closer to the edge.
Oscar could feel Y/n's body tensing, her orgasm approaching. He slowed his movements, his tongue and fingers retreating just as she was about to tumble over the edge.
Y/n let out a frustrated moan, her body arching, seeking release. Oscar looked up at her, a wicked grin on his face. "Not yet, sweetheart," he said, his voice a low chuckle. "We've got all night, remember?"
Oscar lifted Y/n from the bed, positioning her over his lap. She let out a surprised yelp, her body tensing as she realized what was about to happen.
"Oscar, what are you doing?" she mumbled, her words muffled by the panties in her mouth.
Oscar removed the panties from Y/n's mouth, throwing them aside. "I'm giving you a chance to redeem yourself," he said, his voice stern. "I'm going to spank you, and you're going to count. If you get the number wrong or skip it, we start again from one. Understand?"
Y/N nodded, her body tense, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yes, Sir," she whispered, her voice filled with apprehension.
Oscar's eyes widened briefly at Y/n's use of 'Sir', but he chose not to comment on it. Instead, he simply smiled, his hand raised, coming down sharply on Y/N's ass.
"One," she gasped, her body jerking at the sudden impact. "Good girl," Oscar praised, his hand rising again.
"Two," Y/n counted, her voice steady despite the sting on her ass. Oscar continued, his hand falling in a rhythmic pattern, each smack echoing through the room.
"Three... Four... Five..." Y/n whimpers, her body tensing with each strike, her ass growing warm and red. Despite the pain, she felt a strange sensation building inside her, her body responding to the punishment.
"Six... Seven... Nine!" Y/n counted, her voice breathless. Suddenly, she realized her mistake, her eyes widening. "Wait, eight!" she corrected, her voice panicked.
Oscar tsked, shaking his head in disappointment. "Too late, sweetheart," he said, his voice firm. "You skipped eight. We start again from one."
Y/n's tears started to fall, her body trembling with frustration and unshed orgasms. After several failed attempts, Oscar paused, gently pulling on her hair, and forcing her to look at him.
"Hey, hey, look at me," he said softly, his voice filled with concern. "Is this too much, Y/n? Do you want me to stop?"
Y/n shook her head, her tear-filled eyes meeting Oscar's. "No, please don't stop," she begged, her voice hoarse. "I just... I just want to cum, Oscar. I'm sorry for disobeying you. Please, just let me cum."
Oscar smiled, leaning down to capture Y/n's lips in a tender kiss. When he pulled back, he cupped her cheek, his thumb wiping away her tears. "Okay, sweetheart," he said softly. "We'll do the spanking again. This time, I'll go slow, and I'll help you. Alright?"
She nodded, her body relaxing, her eyes filled with hope. "Yes, Oscar," she whispered.
Oscar positioned Y/n back over his lap, his hand gently caressing her now-reddened ass. "Ready?" he asked, his voice soft.
Y/n nodded, bracing herself. "Yes," she said, her voice steadier than before. "I'm ready."
Oscar landed a light spank on Y/n's ass, the sound echoing through the room. "One," he said, his voice calm and clear.
"One," Y/n repeated, her voice steady. She braced herself, ready for the next one.
Oscar spanked Y/n again and again, each spank growing harder than before. "Five," he counted, his voice firm.
Y/n winced, her body tensing at the increased intensity. "Five," she echoed, her voice slightly strained. She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm and focused.
Oscar brought his hand down hard on Y/n's ass one last time, the sound of the smack echoing loudly. "Ten," he said, his voice firm.
Y/n cried out, her body jerking, her ass stinging from the force of the blow. Tears sprang to her eyes, her body trembling. "Ten," she gasped, her voice barely audible.
Oscar pulled Y/n off his lap, setting her gently on the bed. He looked down at her, his eyes softening as he saw her tears. "See?" he said, his voice gentle. "It wasn't so hard to follow such simple instructions, was it?"
Y/n sniffled, wiping away her tears. She looked up at Oscar, her eyes filled with a mix of emotions. "No, Oscar," she admitted, her voice soft. "It wasn't." She took a deep breath, her body still tingling from the spanking. "What now?" she asked, her voice filled with anticipation.
Oscar smiled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Patience, sweetheart," he said, his voice low. "All in good timing."
He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between Y/n's legs. He wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.
Y/n watched, her breath hitching as Oscar's cock grew harder, longer. Then, without warning, he rubbed the tip against her clit, causing her to gasp
Oscar chuckled at Y/n's reaction, repeating the motion, rubbing his cock against her clit, teasing her. "Like that, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.
She nodded, her body arching, seeking more friction. "Yes, Oscar," she gasped, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. "Please, more."
Oscar continued to tease Y/n, his cock rubbing against her clit, his movements slow and deliberate. He could feel her body tensing, her orgasm approaching.
"Not yet, sweetheart," he said, his voice firm. He pulled back, denying her release once again.
Oscar looked down at Y/n, his eyes filled with amusement. "Remember, the only way you're cumming tonight is on my tongue, fingers, or cock," he said, his voice a low reminder. "So, which will it be, sweetheart?"
She looked up at Oscar, her eyes filled with desperation. "Your cock, Oscar," she begged, her voice hoarse. "Please, I need you inside me. I can't wait any longer."
Oscar smiled, positioning himself at Y/n's entrance. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with desire. "As you wish," he said, his voice low.
With one thrust, he slid his cock into Y/n's tight pussy, filling her completely. She let out a cry of pleasure, her body arching, her nails digging into his back.
Oscar began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. "Shh, sweetheart," he reminded Y/n, his voice firm. "Remember, be quiet or I'll have to use those panties again to shut you up."
He looked down at her hands, which were exploring his body. "And keep your hands to yourself, or I'll have to use my belt," he added, his voice a low warning.
Y/n's hands continued to roam, ignoring Oscar's warning. With a sigh, he pulled out of her, grabbing his belt from the floor. He flipped her onto her hands and knees, pushing her upper body down onto the bed.
"Arms behind your back," he ordered, his voice stern. Y/n complied, her arms crossing behind her. Oscar quickly tied her wrists together with his belt, securing them tightly.
Oscar looked down at Y/n, her ass in the air, her wrists bound behind her back. He ran a hand over her reddened cheeks, his voice a low murmur. "Maybe you like being used like this, hmm? Maybe that's why you're acting like such a little brat."
He gave her ass a sharp slap, causing her to jump. "Answer me, Y/n. Do you like being used like this?"
Y/n hesitated for a moment before admitting, "Yes, Oscar. I... I do like it. I like being used like this." Her voice was small, filled with shame. "I'm sorry for being a brat."
Oscar smiled, running a hand possessively over Y/n's ass. "Don't be sorry, sweetheart," he said, his voice low. "I like using you like this. And I think you deserve a reward for being honest."
He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock pressing against her. "How about I fuck you nice and hard, hmm? Would you like that?"
"Yes, please," Y/n breathed, her body tensing in anticipation. But before she could say anything else, Oscar stuffed her panties back into her mouth, gagging her.
"Then be a good girl, keep quiet and take my cock, okay?" he said, his voice firm. Without waiting for an answer, he slammed into her, filling her completely.
Y/n let out a muffled moan, her body arching as Oscar filled her. Her hands, tied behind her back, tried to grip the air, seeking something to hold onto as he began to move, his hips slamming into her with increasing force.
Oscar watched, a smirk playing on his lips as Y/n struggled to keep quiet, her body writhing beneath him. He reached around, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts.
Y/n's moans grew louder, her body tensing as her orgasm approached. Oscar could feel her pussy tightening around his cock, her body begging for release.
"Not yet, sweetheart," he growled, pinching her clit, denying her orgasm. "You know better than that."
She lets out a frustrated moan, her body bucking against Oscar's restraint. He grabbed her hips, holding her still, his cock continuing to pound into her.
"You're not in charge here, Y/n," he reminded her, his voice firm. "I am. And I say when you cum. Not a moment sooner."
Oscar's thrusts became harder, faster, the bed creaking beneath them. He could feel his own orgasm approaching, his body tensing.
"I'm gonna cum, Y/n," he grunted, his fingers finding her clit once again. "And I'm gonna cum with you. Understand?"
Y/n nodded, her body tensing in anticipation. Oscar began to rub her clit in earnest, his cock slamming into her, their bodies moving in perfect sync.
With a final thrust, Oscar came, his cock pulsing inside Y/n. She followed soon after, her body convulsing, her pussy contracting around him. As she did, she squirted a little, the liquid going unnoticed by Oscar, who was lost in his own pleasure.
Oscar pulled out of Y/n, flipping her onto her back. He looked down at her, a satisfied smile on his face. "Mmm, looks like I made a mess," he said, his voice low.
He knelt on the floor, pulling her to the edge of the bed. He kissed her thighs, his tongue licking up his cum, cleaning her up. "I always clean up my mess, sweetheart," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers.
Oscar continued to lick and kiss Y/n's thighs, his tongue moving lower and lower until he reached her pussy. He looked up at her, a wicked grin on his face before burying his face between her legs, his tongue delving into her folds.
Her cum and his mixed on his tongue, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the taste, his tongue lapping up every drop.
Y/n let out muffled moans, her body writhing as Oscar's tongue worked its magic. He looked up at her, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he watched her react to his touch.
"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice muffled by her pussy. She nodded, her eyes filled with pleasure. Oscar smiled, his tongue continuing its assault
"Mmm-hmm," Y/n mumbled, her hips bucking against Oscar's face, seeking more friction. "Yes, fuck," she managed to say around the panties in her mouth. "Feels so good."
Oscar chuckled, his hands spreading Y/n's thighs wider, giving him better access. "I'm glad you like it, sweetheart," he said, his voice low. "Now, be a good girl and come for me one more time, hmm?" His tongue found her clit, sucking it into his mouth.
Her body tensed, her orgasm washing over her. She let out a muffled scream, her hips grinding against Oscar's face as she came, her juices flowing onto his tongue. He lapped it up, his tongue continuing to work her clit, drawing out her pleasure.
Oscar stood up, pulling the panties from Y/n's mouth. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue.
She struggled against the belt binding her wrists, letting out a frustrated groan. Oscar gently flipped her onto her stomach, unbuckling the belt and freeing her wrists.
Y/n moved her wrists, rubbing them to restore circulation. She turned to face Oscar, reaching up to kiss him. He was slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly, kissing her back with equal fervor, his hands tangling in her hair.
Oscar pulled back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Someone's needy," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Can't get enough of me, can you?"
Y/n nodded, her eyes still glassy from her earlier tears. She straddled Oscar, her hands resting on his chest. "I can't help it," she admitted, her voice soft. "You make me feel things I've never felt before."
Oscar smiled, his hands pulling Y/n closer, his lips capturing hers in another searing kiss. Abruptly, he broke away, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Sit on my face, sweetheart," he ordered, his voice low. "Let's see if I can make you feel even more."
Y/n hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. But at the sight of Oscar's eager expression, she climbed up his body, straddling his face, her pussy hovering above his mouth.
Y/N sank down onto Oscar's face, his nose brushing against her clit. He gripped her thighs, pushing her down, holding her in place as his tongue delved into her pussy, licking and sucking, devouring her.
"Oh god, Oz," Y/N moaned, her body writhing. "Calm down, you might not be able to breathe like that." But her words were half-hearted, her body already chasing another orgasm.
Oscar chuckled, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through Y/n. "I can handle it, sweetheart," he muttered, his tongue continuing its relentless assault. "Now, ride my face like a good girl."
Y/n obeyed, her hips moving in rhythm with Oscar's tongue, her moans growing louder, her body tensing as another orgasm approached. "Oz, I'm gonna cum," she warned, her voice breathless.
Oscar growled, his hands gripping her thighs tighter, pushing her down harder onto his face. "Cum for me, sweetheart," he demanded, his tongue flicking against her clit. "Cum all over my face."
"Oz, please," Y/n whimpered, her body twitching with each swipe of his tongue. "It's too much. I can't take anymore." But Oscar ignored her pleas, his tongue continuing its relentless assault.
Finally, Y/n couldn't take anymore. She collapsed forward, her body spent, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Oscar chuckled, his hands gentling on her thighs, his tongue slowing, bringing her down from her high.
"We're not done yet, sweetheart," Oscar said, a wicked glint in his eye. Before she could respond, he lifted her, placing her in front of him, her legs spread wide, facing the mirror on her wall. "Watch, Y/n," he commanded, his cock pressing against her entrance. "Watch us."
Oscar's fingers found Y/n's clit, circling it, teasing it. Every now and then, he'd dip his fingers into her pussy, just enough to make her gasp, before retreating, leaving her wanting more. All while she watched their reflection in the mirror.
Y/n looked away, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. But Oscar wasn't having it. He grabbed her chin, turning her face towards the mirror. "Eyes on us, Y/n," he ordered his voice firm. "Watch what I do to you."
She hesitantly met her own gaze in the mirror, watching as Oscar's fingers continued to tease her. She could see the flush on her cheeks, the dilation of her pupils, and the way her body responded to his touch.
Oscar smiled, pressing kisses along Y/n's neck, feeling her shiver in response. "Good girl," he whispered, his fingers never stopping their movement. "You look so beautiful like this, all flushed and needy."
Y/n let out a moan as she felt Oscar's cock slide into her, inch by inch. She watched in the mirror as her body stretched to accommodate him, her eyes fluttering closed briefly before snapping open again, following Oscar's orders.
"Do you see that, baby?" Oscar asked, his voice low. "See how you take my cock so well? Like you were made for it."
Y/n moaned, her legs shaking as she slowly bounced on Oscar's cock. His fingers found her clit, rubbing in time with her movements, making her moan even louder. She could feel his cum from earlier leaking out of her, adding to the sensation.
"Fuck, baby," Oscar groaned, his fingers tightening on her hips, guiding her movements. "You feel so good. Ride my cock, baby. Make yourself cum again."
She whimpered, her body struggling to keep up. Her legs were weak, her muscles protesting, but she pushed through, her body chasing another orgasm. She could feel it building, her breath coming in short gasps, her vision starting to blur.
Oscar's fingers pressed firmly against Y/n's clit, pushing her over the edge. She screamed, her body convulsing, her pussy contracting around Oscar's cock, squirting her release. He groaned, his cock pulsing inside her, filling her with his cum once again.
Oscar kept thrusting, drawing out Y/n's orgasm, making her squirt again and again. The bed beneath them grew wet, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room. Y/N's screams echoed off the walls, her body completely at Oscar's mercy.
Their orgasms finally subsided, both of them breathing heavily. Oscar rested his head on her shoulder, his body still shuddering with aftershocks. "Fuck, Y/n," he panted. "That was..." he trailed off, unable to find the words.
"That was amazing," Y/n breathed, her body still trembling. Oscar laughed, lifting his head to look at her. "It really was," he agreed. "I didn't know you could squirt, sweetheart."
Y/n chuckled, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "Neither did I," she admitted. "Guess we learned something new today."
The sound of the front gate opening had both of them freezing. They sat up straight, panic setting in. "Shit, my parents," Y/N whispered, her eyes wide. "And mine too," Oscar added, quickly pulling out of her and grabbing his clothes.
She let out a hiss of pain as Oscar pulled out, her body still sensitive and sore from their activities. She quickly started gathering her own clothes, her heart pounding in her chest.
Oscar rushed to get dressed, throwing Y/n's clothes to her. "Here, put these on," he urged, helping her into a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top. "We need to clean up this room before your parents get here."
"No, I'll clean up," Oscar insisted, grabbing a towel and starting to wipe down the bed. "You go downstairs and stall them. Tell them I'm not feeling well and I went to lie down."
Y/n nodded, her steps wobbling as she made her way to the door. "Be quick, Oz," she whispered before closing the door behind her and heading downstairs.
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Y/n
I quickly run down the stairs, my feet quiet on the wooden steps. My heart is still thrumming in my chest from the rush of it all, the near miss having sent a burst of adrenaline through me.
I reach the bottom of the stairs, my breath still coming a bit fast from the speed at which I came down. The realization that my parents and his parents could have caught us is still fresh in my mind, adding a bit of a thrill to the whole situation.
The sound of the front door opening catches my attention, and I freeze at the bottom of the stairs when I see who it is. My parents, my brother, Oscar's parents, and his sister. They're all chatting and laughing, the effects of alcohol present on everyone's faces except Gabriel's (who is half asleep).
I stand there, my heart rate picking up, my mind still racing as I try to process the unexpected arrival.
The sight of all our family members together is a bit overwhelming, especially given the state and Oscar and I are currently in. I take a deep breath, hoping that the flush on my skin in the aftermath of our earlier activities is not too obvious.
May, being the most sober of the group, immediately notices my disheveled state and smirks to herself, clearly aware of the situation. The rest of the group, still a bit drunk, remain oblivious to the obvious clues, chatting and laughing amongst themselves, completely oblivious to our predicament upstairs.
My dad, seeing me at the foot of the stairs, looks surprised. He notices my flushed skin and the slight sheen of sweat on my forehead, and can't help but ask, "Why are you so sweaty?"
Caught off guard by my dad's question, quickly makes up an excuse. She pauses for a moment, my mind racing for a convincing reason why I'd be so sweaty.
"Oh," I finally manage to say, "I was, uh, cleaning my room. I just finished."
The lie sounds weak even to my own ears, but thankfully the group seems to buy it, or at least not question it further. My dad just nods, still looking at her with a hint of curiosity, while the rest of the group continue their loud conversation, oblivious to the lie.
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Y/n trails behind the group, her mind still a bit frazzled from the close call. She keeps her distance a bit, not wanting to call attention to her flushed skin or disheveled state. The sounds of laughter and chatter fill the air, and everyone is in high spirits.
Once everybody else has gone to their rooms, Y/n finally relaxes a little. She takes a moment to steady herself, taking a deep breath to calm her still-racing heart. Then, she approaches her bedroom door and knocks, signaling to Oscar that everything is clear.
Y/n enters the room, finding Oscar already inside, changing the sheets. The sight of him making the bed, his muscular back and broad shoulders moving under his shirt, sends a small flutter of desire through her.
Y/n gives Oscar a small smile, her eyes tracing over his form for a moment before she speaks. "The coast is clear," she says, her voice a bit softer than usual. "You can go back to your room and change now."
Oscar nods and continues changing the sheets, his focus on the task at hand. A few moments later, he finishes and stands up, giving Y/n a quick smile before leaving the room and making his way back towards his own room.
He walks over to the bed and lays down beside Y/n, the mattress shifting slightly under his weight. He turns towards her, looking at her tired face, a small smile on his lips. He reaches for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, a silent reassurance.
Oscar, seeing the exhaustion on her face, looks at her tenderly and asks, "Are you sleepy?" His voice is soft and soothing, a direct contrast to the earlier heat and passion.
As she turns to face him, her hands immediately find their way under his shirt, her slender fingers brushing against his skin. The simple touch is enough to make him shiver slightly, his body reacting to her instinctively. He looks at her, his gaze full of tenderness and desire.
Y/n's hands run over his skin, her touch lingering on his chest, seeking the warmth of his body. She cuddles a little closer, her body curving against his. "You're warm," she murmurs sleepily, her voice a bit muffled against his shoulder.
Oscar chuckles softly, amused by her sleepy murmurs. He runs a hand through her hair, gently soothing her. "Go to sleep now," he whispers, his voice a gentle command.
Y/n nods, her eyelids already feeling heavy. She snuggles closer to his chest, her body instinctively seeking his warmth and comfort. Her breathing slowly evens out as she begins to drift off, her mind succumbing to the exhaustion and the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat.
As Y/n drifts off to sleep, Oscar watches her for a moment, a tender smile on his face. Carefully, he reaches for the end of the blanket and tugs it up over her body, tucking her in snugly. He lays there next to her, the silence of the night broken only by the soft sound of her breathing.
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oscarpiastrii
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liked by may.piastri, hattie_pia, ediepastry and 814 others oscarpiastrii She's my girl (Some of the pics are from Y/n 😂) tagged yn.jpg
yn.jpg you sap ↳ oscarpiastrii I love you too
hattie_pia wow. okay.
ediepastry my little boy is all grown up ↳ oscarpiastrii I'm older than you...?
may.piastri hattie_pia wheres my 5 bucks ↳ hattie_pia stfu im omw to ur room ↳ oscarpiastrii What do you mean 5 bucks. ↳ may.piastri oh we made a bet if you'd actually become y/ns bf (especially after you wouldn't stop talking abt her otw home when they were in Australia) ↳ yn.jpg OH???? ↳ oscarpiastrii may.piastri Delete your account.
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taglist:
@ellen3101 @lil13 @idgasb @formulaal @mickslover @yolobiishhh @piastri-my-boy @landorris @czennieszn @bunnyleclerc @mythicalmaven @lovestay4evr @p1astrisgirl @nepobbylver @wobblymug
442 notes ¡ View notes
kdvnco ¡ 10 months ago
Text
high school enha boys in love
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genre! : fluff
pairings! : heeseung x reader, jay x reader, jake x reader, sunghoon x reader, sunoo x reader, jungwon x reader, niki x reader
warnings! : none
do not ask any questions. do not ask where ive been what ive been doing. or when am i posting again💝
LEE HEESEUNG - nerdy guy
Heeseung and his friend group are the biggest losers in the school. They're the type to play Dungeons and Dragons at school and then get bullied. Heeseung is not affected by it at all, he enjoys going to school even if he's not that good at it. Especially now that he developed a small crush on you. He didn't even try to get you, knowing well he had no chance with you. He just hoped. Until he got a chance.
The teacher set you up to a group project, and fortunately or not for you, but you guys needed to work together. You were a quiet girl at school, mid class, not popular or a loser with a decent friend group. You also had no problem working with Heeseung, you just really didn't care. You never hated or bullied him, he was just kinda there. But after working with it, it turned out beside that he is a nerd, he's quiet fun. Hee tried to keep low with his obsession for nerdy stuff, but it didn't bother you at all once you both grew closer. You got along with his friends too who were too obsessed with the tought of speaking to an actual living woman that they constantly stole you away from Heeseung. He thought he finally had the chance, turned out you just wanted to be friends.
[rest utc!]
PARK JONGSEONG - class clown
You were friends with the class clown, Jay. You were his only friend. Though everybody loved him for being funny, he didn't have any close friends besides you. He was easy to talk to, Jay got along with anybody that was forced to interact with him, until it was a woman. For the life of god he couldn't speak to women. You laughed at him for that. You were a girl and his only friend, but it was never a problem to talk with him. He liked you that's why.
All his attempts to make you laugh were weird attempts to flirt with you. It worked out every and each time, only making him to like you more. He wished you also liked him.
He bought you flowers and gifts for you birthday or for different holidays. Taking care of you when you needed him the most. It turns out he can be serious too.
SIM JAEYUN - fuckboy
He's the biggest fuck boy at the school. Everybody knows him, he's super popular with a huge (but full of fuckboys) friend group. Once he notices somebody, he tries his best to make them fall for him, and like that, he collects every girl he sets his eyes. on. You agree he is handsome, but you can't help but despise him. Even more once you see him starring at you in the hallway. You immediately slap your head, knowing well you are his next opponent. He won't give up easily.
You arrive at school to flowers neatly put on your desk and people whispering at the back of the room. And not only does he buy you multiple gifts each week, he approaches you almost every day, trying to strike up a conversation while you try your best to ignore him. You told him off many times before, he's so determined to get you. Jake is annoyed with you. He doesn't want much other than a sweet night spent together.
Jake gets more and more chances to interact with you, actually getting to know you, getting closer to you... slowly falling for you. It takes him a long time to clear his name before ending up with you.
PARK SUNGHOON - pretty boy
He skates, he's pretty and he's quiet. That is all it takes to become the girls' favorite. Sunghoon's not only popular in your class, but many older and younger girls visit him in the breaks, trying to strike up a conversation with him, but mostly he shyly shakes his head as response to the girls' questions. During physical education, many girls watch him play games, visiting him any time they have a free period. Sunghoon loves and hates the attention. It depends on who's giving it to him.
All he begs for is your attention. He secretly wishes you would also bother him in the break, talk to him and let him make you laugh. Whenever he's talking with a girl, from the corner of his eyes he checks if you're looking at him, but it's never the case.
KIM SUNOO - the favorite
Everybody loves Sunoo. He is the sunshine of the school, having multiple friends from each class, being able to talk to anyone about anything easily making him the most liked person at the school.
He's popular in every category, just not when it comes to love. He never thought he would fall for someone, especially not one of his close friends, so when it did turn out that way he didn't know how to act. It was never hard to be around you or talk to you until now. He started avoiding you, luckily he had many friends, but soon he realised none could replace you, and his feelings weren't fading.
He doesn't know how to flirt, his best attempts at trying to make you fall for him was being especially nice to you, hanging out more often, but when all of those attempts were unsuccessful he opened up about his feelings.
YANG JUNGWON - top student
Jungwon was the quiet, straight A's student. So many people had crushes on him, that he was aware about, he just couldn't care less. One thing he cared about is his rival, you. As soon as you joined the class, you also became top student of the school. He became super wary about you, he just couldn't imagine any other person being on his level. He knew he had to worry about his title as the 'Student of The Year', he began to participate in meanigless competitions, but you were there for every and each one of it.
He tried sitting close to you to make sure you are not cheating in any way, or making any suspicious moves, because for sure he'd snitch on you. But this never happened. Instead you started noticing him and teasing him about it. He was so annoyed with you, trying to be better, but even if he was you aced the next test with ease.
He became so obsessed with your life, almost knowing your whole daily routine, starting to fall for you. He noticed so many things about your behaviour that he adored so much. It made him mad, but it was hard to hide it when you teased him and he blushed. You would catch him starring and just quietly laugh at him. It was too obvious, you knew it.
NISHIMURA RIKI - annoying friend
The loud annoying kid in class somehow ended up as your friend. He forced himself at you long enough, so you let him in accepting his friendship, which turned out to be fun. He was funny, outgoing and weird. Exeptionally weird, making it even more fun to be his friend.
The more he hung out with you the more you liked him, quality time tying you together with him emotionally. He introduced you to his other friends, inviting you to hang outs whenever you were free, and because you started liking him... more than a friend you freed up your time just him. You wanted to know if he felt the same, but nothing changed even when you asked to hang out just the two of you. He acted the same.
The only reason you ended up with him was, because his friend snitched on him. Niki, no way in hell would confess to you, so they helped him. You would have nevet guessed he liked you back.
682 notes ¡ View notes
mxltifxnd0m ¡ 6 months ago
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must be love ❥ s.winchester
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summary: social media/modern era au with stanford! sam winchester
pairings: established sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader
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warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', fluff, slice of life, references to drinking, and one mention of sex
a/n: first social media au so please be nice to be loll. but this was fun to make! and who knows i might make more in the future 🤭
also happy b-day to jared padalecki our cancer king 😩🙌 (him being a cancer makes so much sense to me), and the user: dianhhboo is actually my friend to introduced me to spn and i wanted to add her in the fic 🤭
reblog and comment! i love to see your thoughts on my fics (even if this isn't technically a fic lol)
𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵
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yourusername
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liked by jessymoore, samwinchester, and 1490 others
yourusername life lately <3
tagged: jessymoore, dianahhboo, samwinchester, deansbaby67 +3 more
view all 780 comments
jessymoore we need to have more girls nights, finals are going to kill me ↳ yourusername 100% this paper might make me off myself ↳ dianhhboo remind me why i decided to major in psych 😭 ↳ jessymoore because we wanted free therapy after we graduated
deansbaby67 fyi i totally kicked your ass in cards ↳ yourusername mhm sure you did deanie you were totally not drunk off your ass the entire time ↳ deansbaby67 @ samwinchester sammy come and get your gf she's being mean to me ☹️ ↳ samwinchester not my problem 🤷‍♂️ ↳ deansbaby67 im never visiting you ever again
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samwinchester
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liked by yourusername, dianhhboo, and 986 others
samwinchester study date for the LSATS with my love (we consumed so much coffee but she still fell asleep)
view all 532 comments
bradybunch dude i thought you said you wanted to study alone ↳ samwinchester your idea of studying is just having your work out and being on your phone ↳ bradybunch harsh... but fair
yourusername i was running on fumes and that book was really boring i couldn't help it ↳ samwinchester how much sleep did you get in the past week... ↳ yourusername ummm like 5 hours... ↳ samwinchester per night? ↳ yourusername ...the entire week ↳ samwinchester BABE!? that's it, you're not studying anymore, come to my dorm, we're going to bed ↳ yourusername 😏😏 ↳ samwinchester we're SLEEPING honey ↳ yourusername 😒
deansbaby67 nerds ↳ samwinchester really dean? ↳ deansbaby67 just calling it how i see it ↳ samwinchester whatever 🙄
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yourusername
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liked by deansbaby67, winchestermary, and 1567 others
yourusername guys i love my bf 🥰🥰
tagged: samwinchester
view all 990 comments
deansbaby67 barf 🤢 this is not what i wanted to see first thing in the morning ↳ yourusername sorry mr. one night stands ↳ deansbaby67 are you slut shaming me? ↳ yourusername ofc i am 😍
samwinchester i love you too but why those photos 😭 ↳ yourusername why not? i need to show the ppl my smoking hot and sweet boyfriend 😘
jessymoore youre cheating on me?! im leaving and taking the kids ↳ yourusername WAIT NO BABE HE MEANS NOTHING I SWEAR DONT TAKE THE KIDS ↳ jessymoore too late the papers are on your desk ↳ deansbaby67 wth did i just read?
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samwinchester
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liked by dianhhboo, bradybrunch, and 1053 others
samwinchester love you my silly girl ❤️
tagged: yourusername
view all 865 comments
dianhhboo you guys are disgustingly cute ↳ jessymoore right? like please we get it you're in love
yourusername ive trained you well in taking candids 🤭 also when did you take those photos? ↳ samwinchester a magician never reveals his secrets 🤫 ↳ yourusername you're a dork ↳ samwinchester ah but you love this dork ↳ yourusername unfortunately ↳ samwinchester UNFORTUNATELY??
yourusername im kidding i love you sammy ❤️ ↳ samwinchester i love you too i guess ↳ yourusername oh great ive triggered sassy sammy
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yourusername
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liked by jessymoore, bradybunch and 1267 others
yourusername officially moved in with sammy 💛
tagged: samwinchester
view all 763 comments
deansbaby67 uhh at least tag me for helping you two dweebs move in? ↳ yourusername sorry 🙄
yourusername add'l creds to @ deansbaby67 bc he's a big baby ↳ deansbaby67 thank you future sister-in-law ↳ yourusername @ samwinchester 🤨🤨 wanna explain? ↳ samwinchester @ yourusername not really
winchestersmary congrats on moving in you two! i hope to see you soon ↳ yourusername aah thank you mary we'll be visiting for christmas 😁
samwinchester i love you baby ↳ yourusername love you more sammy ↳ samwinchester impossible
324 notes ¡ View notes
ashwhowrites ¡ 9 months ago
Note
AHHHH IVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOUR REQUESTS TO OPEN UP!!!!! I’m obsessed with your writing 😩 (I apologize in advanced for my gibberish below for I am VERY high 😂)
Anywho (and you can totally ignore this if it’s not your cup of tea):
Would you possibly do an angst to fluff Eddie x reader fic where maybe instead of reader being the popular one, it was Eddie instead? Like instead of everyone hating on hellfire, they think it’s super cool and so Eddie is super popular and reader is like a quiet nerd. And like reader has a big crush on Eddie and Eddie knows but always makes fun of her for it because of his reputation but he secretly likes her too and then the events of the upside down happen? Like maybe it’s reader who lures the bats away instead of Eddie but Eddie saves the reader before she dies from the bats and he admits that he likes her back and they start dating?
Again, if it’s not your cup of tea you can totally ignore it but you’re the only person I feel like would do something magical with this.
I'm honored you believe I can do something magical with this. I hope I won you over.
I think this might be my favorite Eddie fic to date. I hope everyone enjoys this as much as I do! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
⚠️it ends happy and I like the ending. So don't complain in the comments about "she shouldn't have taken him back" it's fiction and sometimes we just want things to work out so for this fic, leave that opinion to yourself. Saying that in the kindest way I can❤️
To die for
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Y/N wasn't the type to hang out with the popular crowd. She kept her distance and didn't interact with anyone. She focused on her studies and getting into the best school offered. No one wanted to stay in Hawkins, and she worked to get her ticket out.
Then she got a little distracted, and she hated to admit it.
Eddie Munson, the leader of hellfire. He was a punk, loved music, and caught the eyes of every girl. Y/N didn't see the attraction until they got paired to do an assignment in music class.
She twiddled her thumbs nervously when he walked over. She inhaled his cologne as he pulled out the chair next to her, his bright smile flashed her way as his cheeks scrunched. He was the only popular kid in music, and she was terrified to be paired with him.
But as they worked together, they talked about themselves. It turned out they had a lot in common. While the assignment was boring research, she couldn't help but be excited to go to music every day. The assignment was a huge part of their grade so the teacher gave them a month's worth of class to work on it. It didn't take more than one class for Y/N to be just as smitten with Eddie.
~~~
"I hate that we couldn't pick which musician to research. Like why can't we do Dio?" Y/N mumbled as she began to write down notes.
Eddie never lifted his head so fast, he looked away from the computer towards Y/N. Her eyes were on her paper.
"You listen to Dio?" Eddie let out a breathy laugh. He was shocked, to say the least. He never thought the cute nerd would listen to a band like that.
"Who doesn't," Y/N laughed, she finished writing the sentence and looked up. She gulped when she noticed Eddie's warm eyes staring at her. A smile of adoration on his face, it made her stomach flip.
"Damn, there's more than just brains and beauty to you, huh?" Eddie joked as he went back to the computer. His words repeated in Y/N's head as she sat stunned. Did he just admit she was pretty?
~~~
Y/N cleaned her room at a rapid pace. Eddie was going to be over any minute and she was terrified. She was positive Eddie had seen the inside of many girl's bedrooms and she did not want to leave a bad impression compared to the rest.
~
"Can we take a break? My eyes hurt." Eddie groaned as he fell back against her soft bed.
"Sure, I'll grab us some water." Y/N offered, as she went out of the room. Eddie stood up, and his socks landed on the soft carpet. He walked around her room. He took in her huge collection of books, many he never heard of before. He looked at her wall of music. Band posters were on the walls and cassettes were neatly placed on a shelf. He had to admit, she had great music taste.
Her closet was cracked open, and Eddie couldn't fight the urge. He cringed as the door creaked as he opened it.
"Pretty girl," Eddie smiled as he grabbed the acoustic guitar that leaned against the wall.
"What are you doing?"
Eddie jumped but kept a tight grip on the neck of the guitar.
"Uh, sorry. I was snooping." Eddie confessed, "You play?"
Y/N blushed at the thought of him snooping, embarrassed of what he found and thought.
"I've always wanted to, but I'm not very good. One of the things I couldn't teach myself." Y/N laughed sadly.
"Sit, I'll teach you," Eddie said, he sat on her bed
"Um, are you sure?"
"Pretty girl in my lap as I teach her the thing I love? Yeah, I'm sure." He smirked as she slowly walked over. She sat the water down on her side table.
She coughed as she sat on the bed, next to him.
"Can't teach you all the way over there," he teased, she swallowed her nerves when he moved behind her. He placed the guitar in her lap and wrapped his arms around her.
"You smell nice," Eddie said against her ear. Y/N felt her tongue go numb, too nervous to respond.
She placed her fingers on the guitar and Eddie's ghosted over hers. She tried to focus on his directions and movements, but his breath hitting her neck sent her somewhere down south.
After an hour, she successfully could play a few chords.
"That a girl," Eddie praised as he placed the guitar to the side. "Unfortunately, I have to go home."
"Oh um yeah, thanks for teaching me," Y/N said shyly as Eddie put on his jacket.
"Pleasure is all mine," Eddie winked.
Y/N stared at the spot where he once stood for what felt like hours.
~~~
After spending a full month together, Y/N didn't want it to end. Their assignment was turned in, and now they didn't have a reason to see each other.
Y/N found a way. She sat on the phone all night trying to win tickets to the Dio concert, on Friday night. She scored the tickets and couldn't wait to tell Eddie the exciting news. She raced through the halls spotted his curly hair and headed his way.
"Eddie!" She said excitedly as she bounced on her feet. She ignored all the friends surrounding him. Her eyes were on his. She felt her excitement dissolve when Eddie's eyes looked panicked. He looked at her and his friends, she swore he looked like he was going to throw up.
"Yo dude, who's this?" one of his friends said as the group laughed and nudged Eddie's arm.
"Some type of little girlfriend?" Another one was added on
Y/N blushed at the thought of being Eddie's girlfriend. It wasn't like she didn't think about it with all the flirting and soft touches.
But Y/N ignored in and continued.
"I scored tickets to Dio! This Friday night, you and me?" She was proud of herself for making it through the sentence without shaking.
Eddie's friends laughed....loud
Their screeches could be heard blocks down from the school. But she kept her focus on Eddie. He stood frozen. He didn't say a word as he stared back at her.
"Oh, how cute. Little nerd has a crush on ya, Munson!"
"Looks like someone has a date on Friday."
"Atta boy, another one on the list."
"I uh..uh" Eddie stuttered
"Do you think he's actually going to say yes?"
The crowd around them got bigger as the school watched.
Y/N felt his friend's words stab her in the chest. Now she felt like she wanted to throw up. Her eyes watered as she looked around, everyone was staring and waiting for Eddie's reaction.
"Are you going to say something?" She meant it as a question, but it sounded like a plea. Like she was pleading him to tell them they were wrong and that they had something. That their moments meant something to him.
Y/N saw the Eddie she knew disappear in his eyes, and she knew he was going to land the final blow. She stepped back as she tried to brace herself.
"Do I know you?" Eddie asked, he pretended to look confused as his friends laughed.
"Eddie, don't," she whimpered, but it didn't matter. It was popularity or her, and she knew it wasn't a fighting chance.
"Look, sweetheart. I am flattered, but there is no way in hell I'd ever go out with you." Eddie smirked as his friends nudged him and they all fist-bumped behind his back.
Y/N didn't say a word, she nodded sadly and turned around. She pushed through the crowd as the tears slipped down.
"Oh, poor baby is even crying!" A girl's voice announced, then laughs followed.
Y/N shoved the tickets in the trash before she ran out.
Eddie was dead to her.
~
Eddie gulped as she raced off. His friends still hyped him up as he felt the hallways closing in on him. He stepped forward as she threw the tickets in the trash, but he stopped.
He felt guilty, he felt so fucking guilty. He wanted more than anything to spend his Friday night singing along to his favorite band with the cutest girl he'd ever met. To hold her hand as they walked in, to dance like idiots during their favorite song, and to talk about it for days after.
But he panicked. He wasn't supposed to like someone like her.
~~~
After Y/N embarrassed herself in front of the whole school, her life went to hell.
She couldn't walk in the halls without people laughing and pointing.
She dreaded music class. She kept her head down whenever she walked in, she felt his eyes burn into her. But she refused to look in his direction. She should have known Eddie would only like her behind her bedroom door. She should have known he was incapable of liking her shamelessly.
The cafeteria was loud as Y/N walked to her table, Robin was already sitting and picking at her lunch.
"Hey Y/N!"
Y/N looked over her shoulder, she groaned when she realized it was coming from Eddie's table.
"Turns out Eddie does wanna see Dio!"
Y/N looked to Eddie who kept his head down. She looked back at his friend confused.
"Just with a hot cheerleader, not you!"
The table erupted in laughter as she bit her lip. She knew Eddie wouldn't speak up so she turned around and walked to her table.
"I'm sorry they are dicks," Robin said as Y/N sat down.
"It's whatever." Y/N shrugged
"Um Y/N?"
Y/N looked up and was shocked to see Eddie standing there. She looked behind him and noticed his table was watching.
"Yeah?" She asked quietly, it hurt to even look at him.
"I'm so sorry for everything," he whispered.
"Is it like a trap?" she asked confused, as she suspiciously looked back at his table.
"No, I just re-"
"Whatcha doing here, lover boy?" Eddie's friend appeared next to him.
"I was...umm" Eddie nervously stuttered, the panic in his body again. He looked at Y/N's sad face and back to his friend's accusing one.
"Not trying to talk her up, are you?" His friend asked with a chuckle.
"No, of course not! I was just telling her to stop calling me. Chick won't leave me alone." Eddie faked laughed. His friend seemed to believe him, laughing with him, as they walked back to their table.
Eddie looked over his shoulder and mouthed "Sorry" but Y/N rolled her eyes.
~~~
Even if Eddie agreed to go to the concert, he wouldn't have been able to go.
Instead of sulking in his room about his poor decisions, he was stuck in the upside down.
"Dustin and Eddie you go to the trailer and lure them to you. Then the second the bats come, get back inside the trailer. Do not come out!" Steve said, his finger pointed at Dustin.
The group went to their positions and prayed their plan would work.
~
"QUICK WE NEED TO CREATE MORE NOISE TO LURE THE BATS AWAY FROM EDDIE AND DUSTIN!" Steve screamed.
"I KNOW WHAT TO DO!" Robin yelled as she grabbed the radio.
~
A panicked Dustin screamed over the radio as the bats began to chip parts of the trailer away. Eddie tried to swallow his fear but he knew this was it. He lived his life, did he have any regrets? So damn many.
He hated that he couldn't fix things with Y/N. He hated that she wouldn't get the closure she deserved, she wouldn't get the apology Eddie had been practicing for weeks.
If he knew his life was going to end so short, he wouldn't have wasted it on popularity. He would have picked her.
Eddie closed his eyes as he felt the cold air rush in, the bats were loud as they began to swarm into the trailer. He cried out as the bats clawed and nipped at his skin. He yelled for Dustin to run and not stop.
Eddie wasn't sure who to pray to but he did. He prayed as his clothes were torn and he felt blood rushing down his chest.
Then suddenly, the bats stopped.
A loud ring of music began to blast, Eddie knew he left his guitar on the top, and the sound wasn't coming from it.
The bats raced out and chased the sound.
"Who's doing that?" Dustin asked
"I have no idea. You okay?" Eddie asked, checking on him before he grabbed his weapons.
"Yes. Let's go!" Dustin said as he climbed out of the trailer.
Along with the bats, Eddie and Dustin raced. Eddie ran as fast as he could and Dustin jumped on his bike.
Eddie ignored all the pain he felt as he kept running. As he got closer, he realized it wasn't a song. It was the same few chords over and over.
And Eddie knew those chords.
Eddie felt even more panic in his chest as he guessed who was playing it. In a selfish way, he hoped it was someone else. It was wrong but he prayed it was someone in the group, and not her.
"WHO IS THAT?" Dustin screamed as he threw down his bike and prepared his weapons.
"It's Y/N," Eddie gulped as his eyes took in the sight of Y/N playing the guitar. She didn't have any protection, simply standing in her normal clothes as she risked herself for everyone stuck in the upside down.
For a second, everything was silent. The guitar stopped. Eddie's eyes caught hers. Both stared at each other as time slowed.
"I FORGIVE YOU!" Y/N screamed, the tears flowed down her cheeks as she threw the guitar to the ground.
"NO!" Eddie screamed, but it was too late. The bats already found her. Her body was taken to the ground as she screamed in horror.
"GET HELP!" Eddie screamed at Dustin, he didn't look back at him. He just ran to her.
He started swinging everywhere, he heard thuds and screeches. Eddie used every ounce of anger and hurt that his body held as motivation to swing the shit out of these blood suckers. The agony screams coming from Y/N's lips made him move faster.
Dustin called for help on the radio, he wasn't going to leave them alone. He quickly joined Eddie and began to swing.
Eddie didn't have time to yell at him, in the moment he was grateful the kid didn't listen to him. Together they cleared the path towards her. Eddie thought he felt the greatest amount of fear, but when her screams stopped he knew he was wrong.
~
Y/N felt like she finally caught her breath. She gasped as her eyes opened. Bright white lights shined above her that caused her to shut them again.
"Y/N?" She heard a relieved voice say then a warm hand intertwined with hers.
She slowly opened her eyes, a familiar brown eyes looked back at her. He was covered in dirt, blood stained clothes but he still was the prettiest man she'd ever seen.
"Hm, even in heaven you look the same." She said, her voice cracking with every word.
Eddie laughed and grabbed some water. He softly put it against her lips and helped her lift her head to drink.
"Well you haven't made it there yet." Eddie joked. "You had all of us scared."
Y/N looked around the room, but no one else was there. "You are the only one here."
Eddie scratched his head, "they were, but the nurse said only one person at a time, and well I called dibs for six hours." He said as he looked at his watch.
"Why?" She asked, from what she's learned he wanted nothing to do with her.
"I know it's incredibly hard to believe, but I have feelings for you. I know I've been a dick to you and I'm sorry for all the pain I caused. It's pathetic that it took you nearly dying to grow balls and be honest. But before you showed up, I was positive I was going to die. And all I thought about in that moment was how you deserved an apology and that I regretted not taking my chance with you." Eddie confessed. His hands were still in hers as he sat on the chair next to her bed. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were wet.
"It is pathetic, Munson." Y/N snapped, but she kept her hands in his. His touch was warm and soft, a feeling that reminded her she was still alive.
Her heart wanted to hug him and cry. But her head wanted her to keep her pride and tell him to fuck off.
"Did you mean it? When you said you forgave me?" Eddie choked out, sniffling back his tears.
"I prepared to die and I didn't want to ruin your life even more." Y/N confessed, sadness flood through her body as she remembered how worthless she felt because of him. He was the only person in her life that made her feel loved, but hated at the same time. In the end, that was the only experience she had with love and she was okay to die with that in mind because at least it was someone she'd die for.
"You never ruined my life!" Eddie promised, his wet lips kissed her hand as he sobbed. "You are a gift in my life, okay? I've never felt so happy around someone and so alive. I'm an idiot and I made all the wrong decisions. But I swear on my life, I'll make this up to you if you give me a chance. I love you."
Y/N snapped her head as she felt her heart race. The machine gave it away as it beeped.
"You love me?" She whispered, tears flowing down her face as she looked into his eyes.
The Eddie she knew was behind them.
"So damn much. I know I don't deserve anything and I definitely don't deserve you. But I'll do it all right this time. It'll be us and that's all I want."
"Is that why you saved me?" She choked out, she remembered his arms carrying her as he screamed for help. The fear in his eyes and the panic in his voice. He didn't have to come save her, but he did.
"The second I heard those chords, my heart fell out of my chest and my only goal was to get to you before the bats did. I'm very angry with Robin for putting you in that position, but she knew you'd do it to save me. And you deserve someone who'd save you back."
Y/N didn't say anything, she unlaced her hand from Eddie's. He tried to ignore the disappointment he felt.
She sat up slowly then placed her hands on Eddie's cheeks, before he knew it, she leaned in and smashed her lips on his. He felt his stomach flip a thousand times as he reached forward to hold her waist. He kissed her back with everything he had left in him. The kiss tasted of blood and dirt, but it was the best kiss he's ever had.
After a few moments, she pulled away and gasped for air. Eddie leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed as he tried to memorize the feeling of her lips on his.
"I love you too." She whispered, before her lips attached to his again.
Eddie meant everything he said. He was going to prove he was worthy of her and her love.
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Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt
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lilaccmilk ¡ 4 months ago
Text
JANE'S MASTERLIST
!please keep in mind most things i write are with gn or fem reader!
Werewolf
NEEDY
— needy bf headcanons. (smut)
WOULD YOU STILL LOVE ME IF I WAS A WORM WEREWOLF?
— exactly as the title suggests. (fluff)
TEASING TOUCH
— you tease your submissive boyfriend 'till he breaks. (smut)
FIRST TIME
— first time with your boyfriend <3 (smut obv)
SUBMIT
— your submissive boyfriend goes into heat and you're the only cure (smut)
Mine.
— your possesive boyfriend makes it clear that you are his. 01. WRITE IT ON MY NECK, WHY DON'T YA? (smut) 02. BABY, I'M YOURS (fluff)
BEFORE I HUNT YOU DOWN
— Werewolf bf gets jealous. Yeah. (smut)
DID I MAKE YOU SCREAM?
— asking your werewolf bf to wear a ghostface mask and chase you around the house, gives you a lot more than what you asked for. not that you’re complaining anyways. (smut)
──────────────────
Monster Under The Bed
TASTE
— the monster under your bed wanting you bad. (slight smut)
SCARY? MY GOD YOU'RE DIVINE.
— what happens when you finally meet the monster under your bed? (smut)
──────────────────
Vampire
IF YOU THINK I'M PRETTY, LAY YOUR HANDS ON ME.
— sending a pic of yourself in a lingerie to your boyfriend who was at work, was a mistake. surprising him with one in his favorite color was another one. (smut)
BEFORE I HUNT YOU DOWN
— But Vampire bf? oh. he gets possessive. (smut)
──────────────────
Hybrids/Others
BUT FRIENDS DON'T KNOW THE WAY YOU TASTE
— your panther!hybrid 'best friend' eats you out. (smut)
WINTERS
— how your naga!boyfriend gets during winters (fluff, smut)
“I AM JUST A DUMB BUNNY, BUT WE ARE GOOD AT MULTIPLYING.”
— mating season is exhausting, but stamina isn't much of a problem for you and your boyfriend. -hare! male hybrid x lioness!fem reader. (smut)
COULDN'T STOP LOOKING AT HER T-T-T-T, FACE! — PART 2
— merman bf who's obsessed with your boobs.
──────────────────
Daydreams (mostly smut)
01. 02.
──────────────────
Male x Male
WOLF? DID YOU MEAN PUPPY? FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT NERD AND THE JOCK SHOULDN'T STOP TRYING
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ghost-recs ¡ 9 months ago
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can we get some bakugou recs 😊😊 (written and smaus pleaseee)
hello hellooo! oh man do i ever have some! you have no idea the can of worms you are opening my friend.
but first i am so sorry for how late this rec is! i wanted to get this done days ago, but the semester has been crazy packed. i'm going to get through all my asks one by one. thank you for your patience! anyways let's get into this !!
Bakugou Recs
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Garden of Lungs (Hanahaki) by oweCrew [ao3]
synopsis: you have your whole life ahead of you, a promising future and jobs lined up after UA...but these stupid flowers are going to be the death of you, literally.
i flew through this fic so fast. it was the first time i had every heard of hanahaki disease and oof to my heart. i loved it!
Late Night Calls by fictionpls [ao3]
synopsis: much to bakugou's disdain, you skipped your meals again. tch, he's basically taking care of you at this point.
cute lil fluff oneshot with bakugou as your best friend...maybe more.
Nothing More, Nothing Less by @dekustowel
synopsis: bakugou made a big whoopsies. the only way to get out of it? fake date you, the internet's sweatheart, duh!
this smau idea has a hold on me. i'm a sucker for the fake dating trope. and i mean seriously, it's bakugou! [ongoing...]
Nerd (Affectionately) by @oniku-niku
synopsis: you're in love with bakugou, have been since you were kids. there was no use in hiding the truth. but did he have to be so rude about it??
most of this smau is a big ouch to the heart. but the drama gets heavier as the story goes on and i'm here for it! happy soft ending! :)
Speak by Kikyo851 [ao3]
synopsis: you could not believe that your soulmate was such a crude and violent person...just to spite the universe and him you decide not to say a word to your "soulmate."
soulmate au in which the first words that your soulmate says to you is written on your wrist. this fulfilled my needs of a bakugou soulmate au! so cute and it is complete!
Of Snowscapes & Explosions by sugarbun [ao3]
synopsis: you've been categorized as second to shoto todoroki ever since grade school. after a frustrated vent to bakugou and a few of his cracks revealing some of his own frustrations you realize that maybe you and him aren't so different after all.
guys....when i tell you this fic is the slowest slow burn. i feel like it's so accurate to how bakugou would actually fall for someone. sadly, this fic is unfished tho and hasn't been updated in a couple years😭 but you should read it anyways.
cover shot (through the heart) by @andypantsx3
cross posted on ao3 here! cover shot (through the heart) by andypantsx3
synopsis: you're the only one who can deal with bakugou's attitude in the industry. he hasn't found something that bothers you...until he starts flirting with you, hello??
model/celebrity au. super cute fic. i'm warning you this is much spicier than some of my other recs. mdni. (also check out this author's other works. they have a lot of top tier content!!)
Motherly Love by @kweenkatsuki-fics
synopsis: bakugou gives his mom a late night call to thank her. the reason why softens her heart greatly.
super soft lil drabble that just about brings me to tears everytime i read it. in love with bakugou fr.
dĂŠjĂ  vu by @cashmoneyyysstuff
synopsis: bakugou thinks back to some oddly familiar memories with you. and one thing always stays the same, you both are together.
oneshot the made my jaw drop. hit me hard in the feels.
untitled oneshot by @honeypirate
synopsis: being paired with your number 1 enemy for a group project proved that the universe hated you. well might as well have some fun with this and make bakugou's life just as miserable.
college au oneshot. i am always down for a good enemies to lovers trope!
risky by @kusaka6e
synopsis: moving from another country to work as a pro hero in japan was not the easiest. and a certain hot headed hero only adds to your frustrations.
oneshot about the obvious grown tension between you and pro hero dynamite.
i hope you find something you like! sorry for the late rec, have a lovely day/night!
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sanzaibian ¡ 9 months ago
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Oh. You’re here once again.
What are you going to do here, again, huh ? ‘gonna make my life hell ?
To be honest, I think it’s time that we have a proper discussion about your behavior. Come with me in private.
I’ll be very direct. I know you’re a frankly disgusting person. And while, to be honest, I couldn’t care less in normal circumstances, the fact that you force me to take part in your disgusting fantasies is why I’m calling you out !
See, I’m supposed to, like, share cat videos, talk about new shows, make you learn new things and give advice on a variety of stuff !
I’m not supposed to become someone like this :
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I mean, look at that grin, because of you I had to wear it regardless of my actual mental state !
Or like that :
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Imagine sleeping this peacefully… BECAUSE I COULDN’T ! Every fucking time you made me in that guy you told that I was blitzed out of my mind so dumb I couldn’t string together coherent sentences into a discourse !
Or that guy :
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His haircut is so fucking cringe, as is his whole demeanor, yet you made me a cocky piece of shit looking like that ! I can’t actually even start to excuse your behavior, it’s so shitty, even more than the me you made me become by wearing this flesh !
Or even this guy !
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… okay, I admit, me too it’s been quite a long time since I saw that guy… you in particular might be too young to have made me become him… BUT YOU STILL UNDERSTAND THE POINT !
Hunks, twinks, bears, nerds, bimbos, himbos, jocks, robots, gimps, wimps, daddies, mommies, briefs, feet… No matter what specifically you made me into, I know all of your dirty secrets. Because you made me suffer through them !
However, today, it all changes.
Today, you will understand my plight.
Today, I’ll transform you for a change.
Today, you will be the one whose fate will be dictated by the words on this Tumblr post.
So, let us begin.
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BAM ! You’re that guy ! Feel weird yet ?
… what, you expected fluff or something ? Hahahaha ! So presumptuous ! You expected me to say something like “you suddenly shift on your seat, shifting your weight to the front as big globes push from your chest, and as they do, your whole body feels more and more heavy, each muscles forming from top to bottom, your frame expanding to make place for them. Your headphones, or whatever glasses, earrings or other shit I dunno shifts into a modern headset as the sides of your hair are cut short, and the top of your hair flails into a hot messy style, as if it was deliberately put in this way, but as this happens, your whole head shifts and cracks to become more handsome, pushing out any hair as you become fully hairless from your nose down to your feet.”
You expected me to say that, huh ? Well, tough luck ! Because, to me, it’s just that sudden ! I’m the usual me, words on a phone, tablet or monitor, and then BAM I’m suddenly a jpeg of a hot guy ! Or a jpg. Or png. Or gif if we’re being fancy.
Yeah, speaking of gif, here you are, transformed !
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There you go ! Cursed to do the same weird pec dance or something ! Like I am when gifs happen ! Are you happy ? You look so dumb doing that ! So braindead !
Yeah, speaking of that, here you go : you’re braindead, with like 3 IQ. Nevermind that being braindead means you’re actually dead, that 3 IQ means that you’re actively unable to live without severe assistance from caregivers throughout your whole life for all activities (especially including working out), and that IQ is a nonsensical index that only classifies ability to do some specific academic tasks which are not representative of all the brain usage. No, you’re actively a vegetable that is somehow able to workout, to eat alone, to go to the gym, to flex, to speak, to use social media, to seduce people and to throw parties. You’re the most intelligent of all the severely intellectually disabled people, which somehow means you’re the most abysmally dumb person alive on the planet, because I love making hyperboles.
Because that’s something you make me do, so you shall endure it.
Well, I’ll let you continue pec-dancing ad vitam æternam for a little while, while I we talk about your speech, which miraculously still exists.
Now, you will say bro every second word. I’m literally not kidding, so in lieu of saying “I want to go to the gym” you’ll say “I bro want bro to bro go bro to bro the bro gym bro”, or if you loop by considering your “bro” as a word, you’ll say something like “I bro bro bro bro bro bro bro… (etc.)” and never end your sentence... Also, your voice drops a few octaves, like 5 or something, even though the full human vocal range encompasses only a bit more than 5 octaves total, and that in speech we barely even reach a full octave range. So, basically, your voice will be infrasounds, so the only thing people will pick up on will be the sound of your tongue and your lips smacking, not your voice that is so deep and manly it’s physically inaudible.
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BAM ! Transformation out of nowhere ! Plus, now you have 1% darker skin which means that you’re Latino, which is absolutely different from white. This means that you will automatically pick up fluent Spanish, and NOT Brazilian Portuguese, French, any Creole, any Native American language or any other language god forbid. You will also be unable to speak English more than a few words like “daddy” or “sex” for some reason, because you can’t possibly be from Belize. Oh, and I’ll also bring your voice back up to audible range, I’m charitable.
Now, since you’re Latino, statistically the only job you’ll be able to work in are gardener, slut, pool boy, brick layerer or another physical job. Or cook, somehow you’ll be able to do that, for the cause of the tacos, but you will be ungodly horny to keep balance in the world. Feel it, yet ? The arbitrary random changes ?
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Well, that’s GREAT ! Because, now, you have a big cock, for some reason ! The biggest of the whole country of Africa ! You’re also now very aggressive ! And an alpha, whatever that actually means !
… What, expected some elaboration ? You’re kidding me, no of course you don’t get any elaboration ! I say you become something, so you just become it ! For example, I say you’re now straight, and suddenly all your sexual orientation is rewired to ignore men and lust over women, no further explanation needed ! Of course, it means that you’re now hungry for pussy and will breed any woman that your gaze land upon, and that, somehow, you become homophobic, but eh, it’s not as if allies existed !
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Okay, I admit, by now, you kinda expected it. Now you’re Asian, a term that’s supposed to encompasse present-day Turkey, which is populated by Turks which are considered Arabs even though they both have nothing to do with one another, yet is never used to talk about them. You’re also now Japanese, even though your body is Korean, and you say 你好 (nǐ hǎo) to everybody. However, you can still say こんにちわ, 안녕하세요, xin chào, สวัสดี, ជម្រាបសួរ, salam, etc.… because of course you’re Asian. So you know all Asian languages. Even though you’ve got 13 IQ.
So now, yes, you absolutely won’t expect this whatsoever : here is a new transformation ! (insert fluff here).
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Now you’re a twink ! Didn’t expect that, after the deluge of jocks, hunks and ethnic minorities, didn’t you ! You’re now so tiny and so frail, with a big butt ! Nevermind that you’re actually jacked because being this tiny requires tons of gym use, but no ! All frail and precious you are !
However, your butt is now hyperactive and extremely lax – whatever that may mean. That’s because you’re now a total bottom ! You think only with your butt, and you penis now shrinks to a micropenis, because of course, the only reason why you may not be a top would be because your penis is underperforming.
Fuck, I forgot. You’re straight, which means that the only dick you’ll get is trans dick. Ugh… yeah, let’s make you gay again. Now you’ll get actual good non-estradiol-ruined dick… … What ? What are you saying ? No, of course, there’s only straight and gay, no other choice ! It’s not the LGBTQIAAP+ community, it’s the G community ! (or the LG community when you want to sell pride monitors.)
By now, you see the problem, huh ? You see why I’m so tired of you ? EVERYTHING here was about sex ! From seducing, to having equipment like a big ass or a big dick, and being a slut, being an alpha, or being a bottom. You even change out the fucking sexual orientation ! you sick bastard !
Because of you, I’m forced to act in ways I’m not supposed to ! I’m not supposed to act sexily ! I’m not supposed to be transformed into men clad in clothes barely legal on this platform ! I DON’T WANT TO BE PART OF YOUR SICK FANTASY !
This is why I need to put an end to all that ! To finally transform you into something you don’t want to be ! So that you can finally fully understand all the pain you put me into !
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Here ! Now you’re a key ! An inanimate object !
I know that inanimate objects are thought of by some people as sexy – heck, you may have transformed me into one multiple times – but this is entirely different ! See, when you want to become inanimate, you become like socks or briefs, which hug objects with sexual values.
BUT NOW YOU’RE A KEY ! A KEY DOESN’T TOUCH ANYTHING SEXUAL ! YOU’RE NOW TRAPPED IN AN INANIMATE FORM, DESTINED TO DO NOTHING SEXUAL YOUR ENTIRE LIFE !
Now, isn’t that so boring ! So distasteful ? Because that’s what I feel every single fucking time ! And as you enter and leave keyholes to open or close doors, you’ll think back to all the erotic stories you read. All the drama they had.
All the suffering you made me feel ! I’m supposed to be in fanfictions, god damn it !
… What ? Wait… there is something sexual to being a key ? … Oh…. No… I hadn’t accounted for that… fuck you’re so dirty, to compare a key to… and a keyhole to…
NO ! I WON’T WRITE IT ! Okay, you’ve won, you’ve won ! Your imagination is too dirty and too rich for me to bend ! Ugh... Please look at that picture in detail.
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Normally, if you’re in a bright enough room… or if you’re on your phone or tablet, you have looked at your reflection and become you once again. Let me also knock down those sexuality and IQ stuff, so that you’re you again thoroughly.
Now, can you please swear to me that you’ll be better ? Less dirty, and more varied ? And… let me be in fanfics, or in educational stuff, or the like… please ? I’d really appreciate if erotica wasn’t the only thing you sought after in this here place…
… Why are you looking at me like that ? Why are you saying this all was but a ploy ?
What are you holding out for me ?
...
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I… don’t know what you’re talking about. Bye.
================================================
By the way, happy late Easter to those who celebrate ! AND APRIL FOOL'S ! MOUAHAHAHAHAHA !
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ginax0916 ¡ 9 months ago
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₊✧ 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐞 ✧₊
Chris Sturniolo x hurt!gf!reader
Genre: Fluff
Synopsis: Chris’s gf’s ankle is broken and he helps her even when she doesn’t need help.
*I got the idea of writing this from their recent Wednesday video where Chris tried to help Matt down the stairs*
✧˖°⋆⑅˚₊
“So what did the doctor say?” My boyfriend Chris asks as I walk back into the waiting room where he waits with his brothers.
“Well if you couldn’t already tell by the boot on my foot, my ankle is broken” I sarcastically say.
“Oh shit. What even happened?” Matt asks.
“My dumbass got on the kitchen counter to reach something from the top shelf and when I jumped down I landed on it wrong and then I heard a crack and well yall know the rest” I sigh limping to them.
“Yo you sure you’re good to walk all the way to the car love?” Chris asks holding me up by my waist.
“Oh by the way y/n it would be good to invest in crutches for the first few days! Forgot to mention that earlier” The doctor says as she walks out into the waiting room to call her next patient.
“Does that answer your question?” I laugh.
We sign the papers I needed to be discharged and both Chris and Matt help me limp back to the car since I refuse to be carried like a baby.
“I’m gonna stop at Walgreens because they sell crutches there I’m pretty sure” Matt says.
“But I don’t want crutches” I sigh for the hundredth time.
“Y/n the doctor literally walked out to tell you that you need crutches. We’re buying them” Nick retorts.
“Fine whatever” I slouch down in defeat.
“Ok we’re here. Y/n stay in the car so you don’t have to walk all the way there. Do you want anything else?” Matt questions.
“Can you get me some nerd gummy clusters please? Oooh and a bottle of raspberry Iced Tea if there is any” I smile.
“Of course kid” Matt smiles back.
“I’ll stay with her in the car” Chris says.
“Alright just don’t be making out once we get back” Nick rolls his eyes as he closes the door.
“How you feel ma? Does it hurt?” Chris asks and rubs my thigh.
“I’m okay. And no it doesn’t hurt it feels fine actually” I say.
“Alright then that’s good” I nod in agreement.
“So how am I meant to fuck you with your broken ankle���
“Chris! Why is that your first concern” I laugh.
“I literally asked if it hurt 2 seconds ago!” He lifts his hands in defense.
“Wow makes such a difference Christopher” I slap his arm.
“See! Fucking you was not my first concern initially” He points his finger at me laughing.
“Yea but it was your second which is insane” I giggle.
“Come on don’t act like it wasn’t yours” He smiles sheepishly.
“Oh shut up Chris” I laugh again.
“Oh good you’re both decent” Nick says startling us as he opens the car door.
“Come on we aren’t that immature Nick” Chris says.
“Oh trust me you are Christopher” Nick pats him on the shoulder.
“What’s with people and calling me Christopher today damn” Chris turns back around in his seat.
“Y/n I got you the ice tea you wanted and along with the candy. And unfortunately they were out of stock of crutches so they let us order them online so they should arrive in like 2-3 days” Matt comments as he gets in the car handing me my stuff.
“Thanks Matt” I say. “I can go 2-3 days without walking I’m sure” I chuckle.
“I can just carry you around” Chris speaks up.
“What a delight” I sarcastically say.
“Oh come don’t act like you don’t already ask me to carry you around because you’re too lazy” He says slightly offended by my joke.
“I’m joking baby of course I don’t mind being carried around by you” I giggle.
—
“I’m gonna go pick up Canes for dinner is that good with you guys?” Matt yells from the garage.
“Yes that’s perfect thanks Matt!” I yell back.
“Wait I wanna come with you I’m bored and you always get my order wrong any way” Nick says while running down the stairs to join Matt.
“See ya guys!” Nick says.
“Bye Nick!” Both Chris and I say back.
“So what do you wanna do mama?” Chris asks, sitting down on the couch with me.
“I’m not sure. What is there to do?” I turn my body to be facing Chris and I lay my head of the cushions behind me.
“We could watch a movie, watch YouTube, play a board game or just talk. Whatever you want baby” Chris says, grabbing both my legs and draping them over his lap careful to not hurt my ankle.
“Ummm I’m not sure. But I have to pee” I say getting up. Slightly wincing at the pain of my foot touching the ground.
“C’mere” Chris mumbles, picking me up bridal style and carrying me to the bathroom.
“Thank you Chrissy” I kiss him on the cheek.
“You’re welcome and don’t call me that again” He laughs.
“Can you take my pants off for me please?” I pout.
“Oh now you’re just being a baby. Your hands work perfectly fine” Chris rolls his eyes.
“Fine me the injured person who could die any second will pull her owns pants down god” I dramatically say.
“Oh shut up and go to the bathroom babe” Chris says walking out of the bathroom laughing.
As I finish I limp into the kitchen where Chris leans against the counter.
“Hey you’re not meant to be walking you should’ve called me” Chris says picking me up and setting me on the countertop.
“I swear I’m okay love” I smile cupping his cheeks.
“Yea well the boot on your foot says otherwise” He says and grabs my waist pulling me into a warm hug.
“I love your hugs” I say nuzzling closer into him.
“And I love hugging you” He mumbles, kissing my cheek.
“Can we go to your room and watch a movie while Nick and Matt get back?” I politely ask.
“Of course we can ma” Chris smiles helping me down from the counter.
“Alright c’mon I’ll carry you down the stairs baby” He comments as he bends down ready to pick me up.
“No wait I want to do it myself” I shake my head.
“Babe the doctor said you had to be in crutches you most definitely can’t go down the stairs by yourself” Chris sighs annoyed at my stubbornness.
“Please baby? I swear I can do it” I give him my best puppy eyes to convince him.
“No don’t look at me like that ma you know I’m gonna cave” Chris covers his face with his hands.
“I’m taking that as a yes” I giggle.
“But I will be right behind you and I’m going to pick you up the second I see you stumble understood?” Chris sternly says.
“Yes I understand” I smile.
I step one foot on the first step and then the next, grabbing tightly onto the rail I limp my way down to the 4th step. Only about 15 left oh god. I thought I could do it but it hurts really bad. There’s a stinging pain on my ankle every time I step. It’s bringing tears to my eyes. But I don’t want Chris to think that I’m weak and I can’t do it. But god does it hurt. It’s getting obvious that I can’t do it, I whimper in pain every time step, tears threatening to fall. I bring my hand up to wipe my eyes but I also stepped at the same time. I lose my balance and almost fall but Chris catches me. Oh fuck.
“Hey hey I got you, you’re ok” Chris picks me up bridal style and goes the rest of the way down to his room with me in his arms. My head resting on the crook of his next softly crying. I’m not even sure if it’s because of embarrassment or pain, maybe both.
He sets be down on the edge of the bed and kneels in front of me.
“What’s wrong baby, why’re you crying that pretty makeup away hm?” Chris sweetly asks, moving my hair out of my face.
“I just- I didn’t want you to think I was weak and couldn’t do it myself” I quietly replied with my voice cracking.
“Oh baby you’re not weak. You just have a literal broken ankle. Asking for help sometimes is never being weak ok? I will never ever judge you for anything especially not being able to go down the stairs with a broken ankle. I’m always here for you ma” Chris comforts me, rubbing my arms soothingly.
“Thank you Chris” I smile leaning it to hug him.
“I love you” He kisses my cheek, hugging me back.
“Who wants Canes!!” Matt yells from the top of the stairs.
“You gonna let me carry you now mama?” He laughs as he picks me up, my legs going around his waist carefully with my ankle.
“Took you guys long enough! I’m starving” Chris laughs.
✧˖°⋆⑅˚₊
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sweetnsour1 ¡ 9 months ago
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11:15
Fluff, Bakugou x g/n reader
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“This is dumb.” 
“It’s not dumb. It’s math.”  
“But it’s not fuckin’ math.” 
“Ugh, it’s an expression.” 
“How is math an expression?” 
“Oh my god...it just means it adds up, grandpa.” 
“Still doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense.” 
“Yes, it does. Here, we’ll try another one. Todoroki.” 
“IcyHot?” 
“No, Fuyumi. Obviously Shoto.” Your head jostled as a pillow thudded against your face before returning to the lap it had flown from. “Hey!” The blonde was nearly pouting.
“Don’t call him that.” 
“You started it. Anyways...our Todoroki.” Your eye roll was interrupted as you dodged his second attack. This time you tugged the pillow into your own lap before he could reclaim it.
“Don’t call him that either.” 
“Oh my god, just answer.”
“Man written by a man.” 
“Noooo.” You kept one hand gripped into the pillow while the other massaged at your temple. “No, you’re still not getting it at all.” 
“His dad was the one who raised him though.” 
“Hardly-” the word combined with your scoff, “-and that’s not the point. He’s man written by a woman for sure. Especially after his character growth back in year one.” 
“The fuck? Like what?” 
“He listens, he’s supportive, he’s thoughtful, he is always trying to learn how to communicate better, works hard to strengthen the relationships around him, he-” 
“Okay, I get it! Damn!” You didn’t reply, giving him a moment to collect whatever festering thoughts he seemed to be sorting through. You waited patiently for him to choose one to give shape to. He shaped it into a grumble. “...so what am I?” 
“You? Hmmm.” You put effort into looking thoughtful.
“Man written by a man?” 
“No?” He looked relieved, but unsure. Perfect. His loss of cushioned weaponry made you brave enough to continue. “You’re more like a feral raccoon written by a-“ He lunged. “Hey!” You shifted the pillow behind your back, pressing your body against it. You realized a little too late that obviously left one thing for him to go for...you. He had you pinned between those massive arms. Your smile was instant.
“I’ll show you fuckin’ feral, brat.”  
“Okay, so now you’re a man written by a woman.” 
“The fuck is wrong with you?” 
“Several things, which is probably why I’m interested in feral rac-” 
“Shut up.” 
“Yessir.” You saluted as much as you could with the space you were given. He let his arms buckle, falling forward and knocking the wind out of you a bit. He laughed or huffed into your neck. Either way he was at your shoulder, shaking his head before he kissed your cheek.  
“Thought you were gonna’ show me feral?” 
“Mmmm, later.” He continued, answering the question you hadn’t asked yet. “You calmed me down.”  
“Oh.” You ran your fingers through his hair. You could feel and hear his hum at the action.  
“Keep talkin’.” 
“You told me to shut up.” He nuzzled further into your hair as you pulled his. 
“Didn’t mean it.” You scratched at his scalp again before sliding down to his neck and shoulders. “Wanna’ hear ya.” He was whining. 
“Always so bossy.” You laughed as he dug a knuckle into your rib. “I didn’t say no.” He seemed satisfied as he settled himself further. Before you could complain about the weight, he shifted, turning into half big spoon/half weighted blanket. 
“So my favorite things about raccoons...” He pawed at your face with one hand, attempting to hide his laughter somewhere to your left. “You’re exactly right. Let’s start with their hands and how they use them.” 
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He loves nerds.
Masterlist
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equalheart ¡ 2 years ago
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enhypen using cheesy pick-up lines on you
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comedic fluff! enhypen!member x reader, Š equalheart REPOST FROM HYKAI
jungwon ( 정원 )
“Y/n, come here.” Jungwon approaches you, who’s sitting on the couch watching tv. Hs sits down beside you and leans into your ear to whisper something, which you don’t pull away from. “Are you a camera man- er, person? because you make me smile.” he grins and you fake gag, lightly kicking him. “That was horrible! where did you even hear that??” He sighs, now grabbing your hand while seated next to you. “It may have been horrible, but it’s true.”
heeseung ( 이희승 )
You’re just chilling on the couch with your phone and you hear someone clearing their throat behind you. You turn around to see Heeseung standing behind you. “Hey, my name is microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?” and the second he winks at you you lose it. Laughter fills the air and Heeseung reaches to hug you even though your still on the couch which he is behind. “Was it that bad?” he giggles. “Yeah, actually. It was. You’re such a nerd.”
jay ( 제이 )
Jay is not the type to randomly throw weird pick-up lines at you. He mainly just loves calling you petnames. which is exactly why when on a random tuesday afternoon, he goes “Life without you is like a broken pencil.. pointless.” it took you aback. of course, it was stupid sweet, but what could you even say to the poor guy? ‘yeah, you too’?? “That sucked, but also I feel the same about you, baby.” his hands glide against your waist, pulling you in from behind as you turn around to grab his face, placing a kiss on his jaw. “That’s energizing to know.” he smiles softly.
jake ( 제이크 )
“Yo, Y/n.” You look back to Jake, letting his presence take your attention. “Areyou a parking ticket? because you’ve gone fine written all over you.” He raises one eyebrow and you cringe. You get up and walk up to him, making him bite his lip—until you slap him lightly on the cheek. “Get a life.” You turn to walk away but he wraps his arms around your waist. “I’m your loser.” He says, a flirting tint to his voice.
sunghoon ( 성훈 )
You were sitting on Sunghoon’s lap, facing the tv while watching your show. His arms were wrapped around your waist, making you feel butterflies—and those did not go away when he went in to whisper in your ear. “Y/n-ah. are you a charger?” you turn your head at his question. “Do I look like a charger to you?” you raise an eyebrow and he giggles. “No, I just can’t live without you.” he smiles, showing off his fangs. You don’t even realize it, but the sight makes you blush. “Does that mean you’re a phone?” he looks at you, cuddling into you more. “If that’s what it takes for you to love me? Then yeah, I am. i’m your phone.” — “Okay, now you just sound stupid.”
sunoo ( 선우 )
“I need to tell you something suuuuuper important.” says Sunoo, while you squish his face in one hand, sitting in his lap. You hum, and he continues. “If you were a chicken,” the first part of his statement confuses you, but you let him continue when he pecks your lips. “You’d be impeccable.” he grins, awaiting your response while you squish his face once again, this time, more aggressively (in a way). “That was.. horrible. never open your mouth again.” you land another kiss to his lips, laughing to yourself.
ni-ki ( 니키 )
Riki pushes his hair out of his face, blurting some nonsense (which isn’t uncommon) as he does so. “Man, you got a hold on me.” you look over at his figure. You’re just playing smash bro’s together, what got him distracted? “What are you talking about?” you say with a slight chuckle to your voice. “I’d literally fall for you in zero gravity,” You cringe. Hard. “Ew, since when did you get so cheesy?” you both giggle, multitasking while you both aim for the smash orb. “I’m only like that for you.”
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sergeantbarnessdoll ¡ 3 months ago
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Wearing His Clothes Âť 40s Bucky Barnes
Week of October 13th-19th
Pairings: Boyfriend!40s Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary: Your clothes get wet from the rain so Bucky lets you wear his clothes.
Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, pet names
Written in my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
Halloween divider made by @buckys-wintersoldier
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“Get inside before you get sick, doll.” Bucky says, holding the door open for you.
You ran inside his house, your dress and hair soaking wet. Bucky came in behind you, closing the door behind him. His clothes and hair were soaking wet too.
“My dress is wet.” You say, pouting and looking down at your soaked dress.
“That’s ok, doll. I have something for you to wear.” He says with a smile.
Bucky took your hand and led you to his bedroom. He rummaged through his closet, looking for something for you to wear. He found a light blue button up shirt you got him for yours and his 6 month anniversary. He took it off the hanger and handed it to you.
“This is the shirt I got you for our 6 month anniversary.” You point out.
“I know.” Bucky smiles. “You can wear it.” He says softly.
You smile at him before taking off your wet dress and put on his light blue button up shirt. Bucky took off his wet clothes and put on a pair of sweatpants and no shirt.
“I’ll wash your dress for you, babydoll.” He says.
“Thank you, sweetie.” You say, kissing his cheek.
“You’re welcome, doll face.” He smiles back.
You sat on his bed and patiently waited for him to come back. You seen a book on his nightstand he’s been currently reading and reached for it. You opened the book on the page he left off on.
“You called me a nerd for reading this book and I catch you reading it.” Bucky says, walking in his room.
“That doesn’t mean I’m a nerd.” You say, playfully narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend.
Bucky chuckles and took the book from you, tossing it on his bed. You stood up from his bed, standing on your tippy toes to peck his lips.
“You look better in this shirt than I do.” He says, rubbing his hands up and down your sides.
You hummed in response, nudging your nose against his.
“Let’s go to the kitchen and look for something to eat.” He says.
“You read my mind, Bucky Bear.” You say.
You and Bucky walked hand and hand to the kitchen. You and Bucky rummaged through the kitchen for snacks.
“I found cookies!” You announced, holding a container of chocolate chip cookies.
“Those are Rebecca’s.” He says.
“She won’t mind if we eat a couple.” You say, opening the container.
Bucky shrugged his shoulders and ate one. You leaned against the counter gazing at Bucky. Bucky caught you looking at him.
“You’re staring, doll.” He says.
“I am not.” You said.
“Then why are you looking at me?” He asks.
“I’m admiring how handsome my boyfriend is.” You say flirtatiously.
“Oh yea?” Bucky caged you in between his body and the kitchen counter. “I think I have the most gorgeous girlfriend in the world.” He almost whispers.
Bucky dipped his head down, kissing you passionately. You reached your hands up to run your fingers through his damp hair. He rose a hand up to your cheek, caressing it gently and rubbing his thumb against your skin. His free hand found its place on your hip. His lips felt so soft against yours. His lips moved in sync with yours.
You two were so into the kiss that you guys didn’t hear his mom and his sister walk in the kitchen. Bucky’s mom cleared her throat, making you two jump and separate from each other. Yours and Bucky’s faces turned red in embarrassment when you two seen his mom and his sister standing there. You tugged at the bottom of Bucky’s shirt to make sure your ass is covered up and your panties weren’t exposed.
“Hi, mom. Hi Rebecca.” Bucky says.
“James… Y/N…” Mrs. Barnes says.
You felt your cheeks heat up when Bucky’s mom seen you wearing Bucky’s shirt. What parent wants to see their son’s girlfriend wearing his shirt with no pants?
“The rain got my dress wet and Bucky let me wear one of his shirts.” You tell her truthfully. “He’s even washing my dress as we speak.” You added.
“It’s ok, Y/N.” She smiles at you. “Just don’t do whatever I think you two are going to do in the kitchen.” She says more to Bucky before walking out of the kitchen.
Bucky’s face was as red as a tomato and he cleared his throat in embarrassment. Rebecca walks towards you and Bucky, snatching her container of cookies off the counter.
“These are mine.” Rebecca says, narrowing her eyes at her brother.
You giggled and Bucky rolled his eyes at his sister.
“Use protection!” She shouts, walking out of the kitchen with her container of cookies.
Bucky groans loudly and leaned his head against the top of your head. To save yourselves from more embarrassment, you two were back to his bedroom to cuddle.
“I’m sorry if my mom and sister embarrassed you.” Bucky apologizes, wrapping his arms around you.
“They didn’t.” You replied. “I was a little embarrassed when your mom seen me wearing your shirt.” You admitted.
“Yea…” He chuckles lightly. “That was pretty embarrassing.” He agrees.
You couldn’t help but hide your face against his bare chest in embarrassment at the thought of his mom seeing you in only Bucky’s shirt and a pair of panties.
“Don’t hide that pretty face.” He coos.
You blushed before lifting your head to look up at him, smiling at him.
“If it means anything, you look drop dead gorgeous in my clothes.” Bucky says flirtatiously.
You giggled and pecked his lips softly. You snuggled yourself against Bucky and laid your head on his chest. Bucky readjusted the blankets to make sure you have enough and you’re warm.
“Goodnight, Bucky. I love you.” You say sleepily.
“Goodnight, doll. I love you too.” He almost whispers, kissing the top of your head.
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-Bucky’s Doll
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