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chrollohearttags · 4 months

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AU where y/n and producer eren were very much high school sweet hearts, then years later deciding to take their relationship to the next level as in losing their virginity 🙃

ANONNN, why’d you do me like thissss?? This is genius 😫 not even to spoil but this was literally the alternate plot line to reverb LSLFKFJ. Ugh this is just too damn cute so ofc imma talk about it.

content + themes: both reader and eren are virgins, reverb spoilers, lots of sweet stuff, bc I can’t handle angst rn, gentle sex/smut, accidental cream pie, this is SUPERRRRR long bc y’all know I love detail and got 20,000 pages of lore for these two!! Smut is at the end so if ya’ll can’t wait, I’m sorry.

eren left home at what would be considered incredibly young by most standards. At fifteen years old, he found himself frequenting the mall and playing basketball down at the local park in the suburbia of Montclair, New Jersey to being thrust into the fast paced lifestyle of Miami, Florida. The harsh, crime ridden town known as Opa Locka to be exact. A complete contrast by a long shot. Even so, with spite and determination on his heart; fueled only by his desire to win this illustrious battle called the rap game, he toughed it out and persevered. Not only that, to rid himself of the toxic past that had scarred him and a family who betrayed him. Make no mistake, his ‘privileged’ upbringing was nothing more than a mere experience and not a part of his identity. He never tried to pretend that he was ‘hard’ or tough, no need for a facade, he was simply Eren and that was all it took. He also never viewed anyone as different or beneath him because of how he grew up. Most of his friends back home came from very humble beginnings and had less than savory lifestyles. It wasn’t something he did for shock value or to piss of his parents. He just always had a knack for befriending others who may have been cast aside or forgotten about because he knew the feeling quite well. So it came as no surprise when he enrolled in the local high school to finish out his last couple years, he was a rarity in these parts…looking and acting completely different from everyone else. But it didn’t take long for the green eyed brunette with the buttery smooth voice and oblivious charm to assimilate.

“Wassup, EJ?” “Hey, EJ!”

from the classroom to the hallways, he was greeted by his fellow student body, who at first, saw him as an easy target. Alluding to the fact that he must’ve been some rich boy stuck in the middle of the hood to be “taught a lesson” or something of the sort. That it wouldn’t be two weeks because he was tucking tail and getting his ass back on the first bus to Jersey. Little did they know, he was the last person to back down and damn sure the last one to run from anyone! During gym class, there was a scrimmage basketball game, nothing too serious or exerting, just a little fun competition. It was then that not only did Eren catch the eye of the boy’s team head coach and that of (y/n) (l/n). Who had been discreetly seated against the wall after running two miles. You had been quietly observing the game and having grown up around tremendous players; spending afternoons down at the Boys and Girls Club..you recognized talent from a mile away. That also could’ve been attributed to the fact that you were the current co-captain of the majorette team, where you danced during games. Even so, you always stayed to yourself. Never really clinging to one group or another, truthfully only talking to your best friend. Your head in a book and studying was your only focus. That much was apparent by your four point two grade point average. Nonetheless, this new boy couldn’t help but to grab your attention. It was unfortunately for that reason, that his opponents once the game ended, would use that to his advantage.

not exactly keen on the idea of having somebody like him strutting around..besting them in a sport they’d always exceeded at and intriguing the girls who never even so much as paid them attention, they were pissed! So as anyone with stunted emotional maturity would, they decided to try and ambush the new student in the locker room. Granted, he was a little smaller and had just hit six foot one inches. He was fairly tall but still lanky and skinny. So he’d have his work cut out for him. Unsuspecting of the attack, he chopped it up with classmates and laughed on his way back. But not without flashing you a glance first. That ultimately made your heart flutter a little..you didn’t pay attention to boys often and had many speculating that you were possibly gay but no one had ever roused your fancy. In a way, you envied him. As someone from the proverbial ‘other side of the tracks’, who was different from you all in any facet was fitting in just fine! Quickly becoming the talk of the school. Meanwhile, you were a lifelong resident of this city and yet, you never drew any attention on yourself. Outside of your impeccable dancing. Hell, everyone always referred to you as ‘the quiet girl’. A moniker that you were proudly..the less you spoke, the less trouble you could find yourself in.

however, that peaceful life would come to an end when you’d walk towards the girls locker room and find yourself stopped by the gaggle of guys who were planning their ambush for after school whilst he was walking home. They figured he’d be an easy lick but they couldn’t be too relaxed. He mystified them all..acting completely oblivious to his environment, never behaving differently; talking exactly the same and all or even seeming afraid. He was the same person regardless of where he went. So that’s when they’d try to enlist your help. “Aye, (y/n). Lemme talk to you right quick..” waving you over and although you were about to ignore him, you accepted anyway. A tall dread head with a bottom row of golds gleaming from his mouth. Something he wasn’t supposed to have but did anyways. “I seen you looking at jit earlier, you like white boy, don’t you?” Immediately feigning any sort of confirmation. Acting uninterested as always. “That’s what you called me over here for? I gotta go change—“ but before you could coldly turn on your heel, he’d grab your shoulder and request a ‘simple’ favor:

“Help us set his ass up. He ain’t been here a whole month and already actin’ like he run this shit. We’ll even give you a cut.” but again, you didn’t care! Him or any of their petty jealousy was none of your concern. That boy hadn’t said the first word to you or even bothered you in the slightest. The hell did you look like conspiring with these dumbasses to not only bully him but to tarnish your hard work? Smacking your lips, you’d merely brush his hand away and continue to walk by. “As my granny says, you can’t get blood from a turnip. If you wanna risk jail for some stupid shit, do it by yourself. I’m not interested.” truthfully, Eren was no more wealthy than anybody here. Working odd jobs after school and rooming at a boys home on the southside. Hell, he could barely even afford lunch sometimes!

but alas, this only seemed to enrage your peers. See, the ring leader was the current basketball team captain and a shoe-in for first draft to a top college once he graduated. However, there was another side of him..a hothead with a bit of a past. Selling drugs and hanging with bad crowds..a mere product of the environment. But basketball was his ticket out. Hence was, considering that he stayed in trouble, grades were a wreck and he had a bad reputation. It was his exceptional skill that was keeping him in his spot and that alone. The coach overlooked a lot of his antics just to have a star player. Nothing new. However, with Eren on the scene, his position was threatened. Contrary to his belief, it had less to do with his skin and the fact that he was a better player with less of a headache! He had better grades, better manners and a lot more skill. Teachers constantly complained to the coach to kick him off the team so he could focus on his academic studies. Several calls were made home with no answer from parents..it was a crazy situation. Even so, it was no excuse for his behavior. Almost everyone here came from hard circumstances, he just loved acting this way!..especially when it came to preying on the weaker..

“Oh I see, you gon’ take his side but not mine? You green as hell, (y/n). Some ol’ weird ass shit, bruh. You really not tryna’ help me?…” even getting closer, despite your pushback. “Darius, imma tell you one more time. Leave me alone. Ion want no parts of this. It’s not my business.” But before you could do anything else, he’d grab your wrist and pull you back. A cliche if you had ever seen or experienced one. But just as the old time tale went, your knight and shining armor would swoop in to defend your honor.

“I think she said leave her alone.”

a familiar voice, one you hadn’t heard often but enough to recognize. The reason behind this whole ordeal..

“Wasn’t nobody talking to you. Mind your business.” “This is my business. Putting your hands on a girl..I see your sorry ass jump shot ain’t the only thing that’s weak.”

which only pissed him off even further. Long story short, he’d attempt to pick a fight with the ever so sly Eren but to no avail. He wasn’t taking the bait. Not out of fear but because he wasn’t worth the energy. Eren was a bit of a hothead, even admitting so himself. However, he couldn’t afford to screw up right now. Getting into unnecessary fights would only put him in an even worse situation..especially for the people caring for him. He had done that once and wasn’t about to let it happen again. “(Y/N), right? That’s your name?..” answering him with a nod. “Don’t worry about him. You go ahead, beautiful. He won’t do anything..I can promise you that.” Standing toe to toe with the taller bully. His cheeks puffed up and fuming in rage. Meanwhile, Eren wore nothing but a smirk. He could fume all he wanted but as long as he didn’t put his hands on him. If he took it there, then he’d be glad to show him why trying him wasn’t wise..

luckily, the coach noticed the bubbling scuffle and told them to break it up. Fast forward a few days, give or take and you’d see Eren around campus. Always carrying a pair of headphones and a notebook. Two things he’d never be caught without. One thing was for sure, he was an intriguing dude for sure..you’d eventually find yourselves paired up for a project and needless to say, you were incredibly nervous. Mainly because neither of you had spoken since that day in the gym. It wasn’t for a lack of you being thankful, you just didn’t know what to say. That was until you were in the library doing research together and you’d blurt out your gratitude, along with your apology. Which made him laugh! “What are you thanking me for? He only did that because of me. If anything I should apologize to you.” He was so respectful and bashful, qualities you truly admired. Although he remained shrouded in mystery, he was fascinating and you wanted to know more about him and turns out, you’d learn a pretty interesting tidbit of information! “You have a point. I mean, are you really planning to take his spot as captain though—“ which only further fueled his hysterics. He’d double over laughing and all you could do was give him a look of confusion. “Why are you laughing? I ain’t that funny.” “I’m sorry. I just..listen, I don’t know what you were told but I don’t want his spot. Basketball’s fun, it’s sum’ to do but I already know what I want.” And his answer would shock you, truly. See, Eren had always had an affinity for music. Singing, playing all sorts of instruments since he was a little kid and recently, he’d taken to writing his own songs. That infamous notebook he carried? Filled with poems and songs about everything from basic lines to his deepest emotions. Spilling his heart onto the page as he talked about his family, his anger towards his father and even the loss of someone he held dear to him. Sometimes, they weren’t about him at all..they were just vivid portrayals of elusive tales. He obviously had quite the story to tell but he couldn’t do it or even have the time shooting balls into a hoop. He told the coach he’d consider but his true goal?

“You wanna be the drum major?!” “Yeah, why not? I mean, I know it’s prolly lame but it’s one of my favorite instruments. It was the first one I learned..to me, the drum line is the highlight of the game. They make it entertaining.”

but little did he know, he had piqued your interest for sure! You were so flustered you tried to feign it off but he was too freaking cute! Here you were expecting this athletic, cocky playboy who only cared about girls and being popular but he was so much more than you expected! A nerd just like you. And you knew so for the fact that you’d never held a conversation with a man longer than to give them the answer to a question or let them borrow a textbook. He was so captivating. But perhaps, getting to do incredible solos at halftime wasn’t his only motivation to join the school music program. He had other reasons as well..

“Besides..I would actually get to see you perform. I call it a win.” Causing you to scoff, dismissing his seemingly perverted comments.. “Oh, so you just like everybody else.” but the tension was misplaced. He admired your craft and respected it. Seeing you doing your moves while walking past the gym on his way home, how hard you worked and just overall how graceful you looked. Not to mention, you were drop dead gorgeous! The prettiest girl he’d ever laid eyes on.. “..I seen you practicing the other day and you’re really good, (y/n). You’re completely different when you’re dancing. You seem really happy..I mean, you make the dance team from my school back home look like stiff ass robots.” Earning his first giggle out of you. From that day forward, a beautiful friendship blossomed..studying together, eating lunch in the library, walking home with you as his group home wasn’t far away, sneaking into the chorus room so you could hear him playing the piano and singing. A privilege reserved strictly for you. Making you sob when you heard his rendition of Stevie Wonder’s ‘Ribbon In The Sky.’ He was so kind, sweet and it didn’t take long before rumors of you guys dating began to permeate through the school. Hallway whispers of you ‘going with that new boy’. It was all the rave. It didn’t help matters any when at the mention of each other’s names, you’d both freeze up like popsicles! It was adorable, really. A budding crush that would soon bloom into something far more than just a platonic bond. After about six months into his arrival at your school, Eren had undoubtedly made a name for himself for not only his basketball skills but his musical ones as well. He had made good on his promise to join the band and make his first step toward becoming drum major. Because the band and majorette team often performed together, you’d be together at practice also and eventually, became inseparable. Flashing you smiles and watching intently while you performed your solos. Him joining proved to be a great addition to an already powerful band because he was so talented and kept up quite nice. In no time flat, he mastered the quads and studied underneath the current drum major, playing at games. Even when he decided to cave and accept the offer to join the basketball team, he had the pleasure of seeing you dance during intermission and even greeting him after the game with a giant hug. You in your shimmering leotard and him in his drenched basketball uniform.. number nineteen printed on the back.

“You looked good out there, princess.” A name he affectionately called you because your team’s competitive name were the Crowned Royalty as your school mascot were knights. And because you often times outshined the reigning captain, you were dubbed “The Princess.” Besides, it sounded so much better coming from him. “Nah, that was all you, Mr. Star Player.” It didn’t take long before he’d do the one thing everyone had been waiting on and ask you to be his girlfriend! With encouragement from his teammates and homeboys, Connie Springer and Onyakopon. They too treated you like a little sister, always teasing you and making sure you were good in Eren’s absence. “You one of us so we gotta make sure you good.” They all worked together at a local shoe store and stayed only three houses down from one another so they spent a lot of time together. In addition to their shared passion and talent with music. Granted, neither of you had experience with dating or having many friendships for that matter but it felt so natural when you were around each other. His cheeks flushed with red the entire time he held your hand on the way to class. Your entire body trembling when he kissed your forehead because you were too scared to kiss on the lips at the time. Even sitting next to him and his friends at lunch was an experience. Listening to them freestyle and make beats. Your best friend Niesha, right beside you, teasing you about how cute your man was and how you’d gotten lucky. And all you could do was shake your head. Eventually, all five of you became thick as thieves. Hanging out after school, going roller skating on weekends when practice permitted and just stayed in your own little bubble. You loved it so much. It was the first time you’d ever had a friends’ group, a true support system.

your grandmother and sole caretaker since you were a kid was absolutely thrilled to see it. Although you called her your best friend, she was happy to see you coming home excited to tell her about something besides a book or your report card. As proud as she was of her baby, she wanted you to experience life. Often times, she’d invite all of them over and cook you all large meals that were nothing short of heaven! Repayment for the boys coming by to mow the grass or help with repairs. They were more than thrilled to do it. “My future grandson in law is a nice young man, ain’t he?” A statement you’d brush off with a smack of your lips. “Cut it out, granny. Ain’t even like that.” She adored Eren and when she learned that he could sing, knowing a few gospel songs as well..she all but claimed him now! He was family and you were so glad that he was in your life. A likewise feeling because for once, he felt as if he belonged. One night, while meeting at your usual spot in the park, high on top of a jungle gym where you’d gaze under the stars, you’d ask him one thing:

“You ever thought about what you want to do with your life?”

and to him, that answer was simple. “..I wanna change the world.”

a dream he’d held onto for as long as he could remember. He loved music more than anything and he wanted his to transcend any genre, any one archetype. He wanted what he created to someone’s reason for living, someone’s inspiration to keep going even when things got dark. He wanted it to put smiles on the faces of people who listened..he didn’t care about awards or being some mega celebrity, he just wanted to pour his heart into what he made and hoped somebody heard his passion.

“And I want you right beside me…(y/n). I don’t wanna do any of this without you.” Clutching your hand atop the structure. He had never been this vulnerable or open with anyone in his life but now was a good of time as any to start.. “..I know everybody prolly thinks I’m some spoiled rich kid who left home just to piss off my folks. Honestly, their opinions stopped meaning anything to me a long time ago..my mom, I love her so much and I really do miss her. I hope one day I can step to her as a man and apologize for putting her through so much. Making her worry about me…” as he spoke, you could feel the tension in his hand as he squeezed yours. This was the first time he’d spoke in detail as to why he was alone down here in such a dangerous city when he by all accounts lived lavishly back home. “I just couldn’t stay..not when my own old man is a fucking coward. I know it’s a long shot but at least I can stand on it. Him? He’ll sell his soul for a dollar. I could never be under the same roof as someone like that. I will do this and I’ll prove him wrong. I’ll make a way for myself so I never have to depend on anybody ever again.” You couldn’t help but to feel that you were missing part of the story but maybe it was something far too traumatizing to hash out in detail right now so as you’d always done, you’d support him. Cradling your arms around him with a giant hug before kissing his cheek. “I’ll always be here for you, Eren. I promise. I know you’ll make it and I wanna be right there by your side. I love you.” “I love you too, (y/n).” Words that sounded insane from a teenager but you meant it. Meant it more so than anything you’d ever said! Some people would say you were too young to know what you wanted but you both knew that no matter what path you took, as long as you walked it together, you were unstoppable!

soon, graduation was right around the corner. You two attended prom together, even made homecoming king and queen and by all accounts, had an amazing senior year! You guys turned eighteen only a couple months apart and thus, were thrusted into adulthood. Working here and there to provide for yourselves all while chasing your dreams. You’d gotten accepted into the University of Miami on a dance scholarship and even though it was a huge opportunity..your heart was misplaced. You felt like another cog in the wheel and a moving piece on a machine. You’d love to dance your entire life but you wanted something more than this. Stiff eight counts and bland rehearsals. Something refreshing..that’s when you’d begin taking pole classes outside of school! An idea you came up with after seeing a popular dancer on Instagram and she looked so graceful..surrounded by plants with her beautiful afro as she swung around the pole. She looked so free!…you wanted to experience that joy too. It took no time at all for you to master the craft and just like that, your spark was reinvigorated. By this time, Eren was all but halfway to his own goal after going viral for singing in the store he worked at and still very much an important fixture in your life. He managed to catch the eye of one of the industry’s top executives and legendary musician herself, Vivian James. She was one of your grandmother’s favorites, despite being younger than her. This woman had a powerhouse of a voice and needless to say, Eren’s had her intrigued.

“You did it, ‘ren. I’m so proud of you, baby!”

although he hadn’t quite made it yet it was one hell of a start. It wouldn’t be easy but he was willing to put in every bit of the work it took to succeed. Having you there to encourage him would be all the strength he needed to keep going. But he wanted to support your dreams as well! He never wanted this relationship to be one sided. “What about you, princess? Do you really like dancing for the school? Are you happy?” If anyone could see through the facade, it was your boyfriend of almost three years. He saw how amazing you were when you did pole. It didn’t matter which avenue of dance you took, you excelled but he’d never seen you more happy than when you were twirling midair and doing all these crazy stunts. He wanted you to be safe, of course, but he wanted to find joy in something the way he did. “I just..I don’t want to do what everyone else is doing or what they expect of me. I loved majorette but pole is just so different. I have so much fun.” There it was, a glimmer in your eye that couldn’t be sated when you spoke about it. The rush you felt setter coming down from a death drop. Eventually, you’d go on to quit the dance team, forfeiting your scholarship but your grades alone afforded you many other grants and things so you’d do online classes while working for your uncle’s shop and practicing under his wing. Eventually you found the courage to upload yourself online and it wasn’t long before you reached your own bit of notoriety. Captivating thousands with not only your skills but your stunning looks. Eren always called you princess but honestly, you were like a divine being. A goddess and sometimes, not even he could believe you were real.

before either of you knew it, you were nearing twenty and your dreams were falling into place. It seemed as if the hard times and rainy days both of you had gone through were over. You were so ecstatic when he got his own place, after securing and successfully completing an audition with AMG. The biggest talent agency in the country. Along side his two best friends nonetheless and eventually asked you to move in with him. But it wasn’t the only proposal he had. No, there was something else he needed to ask you..so with trembling hands, tearful eyes and in the same empty park where you’d spend countless nights talking about your futures; surrounded by faux candlelight and roses, he’d ask the one thing you never thought you’d hear:

“Will you marry me, (y/n) (l/n)? Will you do this forever with me?”

and it was no question! The answer was yes, a million times over! That night, the two of you exchanged intense, heavy kisses and warm, inviting touches underneath the moonlight of your very first place. A one bedroom apartment but it didn’t matter. It felt like a castle; an unreal fantasy when you had him. You’d let him caress and run his hands along your body. Kissing and licking your neck on the frameless mattress as your nude bodies entangled in the white sheet covering them. Neither of you had ever done anything like this before and although you were nervous as all hell, you were ready. Ready to take this next step. When you were in school, so many other kids were already going the extra mile and some had even fallen pregnant by the time you graduated. But your love was so pure and innocent, sex seemed like a foreign concept. It was the furthest thing from your minds. You enjoyed being around each other. The feeling you derived just from when he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest with a kiss to your forehead. You never felt pressured to lose your virginity because you knew that a moment like this would make it all the more special and that he’d be the only one you’d share it with. So in that moment, Eren moved his tongue down your body, kissing and marking your neck with a trail of sloppy pecks. Your hands trailed up his back that had now been stamped with his first tattoo. His hair..that once tapered brown haired cut was dangling in front of your face as half of it remained tied into a bun. He had often dreamed about what this moment would consist of..how it would feel to be given the flower of his beloved. To ‘pop’ your cherry and have the honor of being your first and vice versa. Would he hurt you? Would he fuck it up? His only true goal was to know that you were feeling good. He didn’t want to sound like a weird degenerate but his only experience was through videos and his hand. And yours? He was scared! So terrified that you had to grab his shoulders and tell him to breathe as he was trembling when he began to touch your sensitive center.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s just us here…take your time. You’re doing so good..”

only backed up when he slowly circulated his fingers around on your clit and watched you writhe in pleasure. Whimpering and crying out his name. It was so slippery and juicy but he assumed that was a good thing from the way you rutted your hips and pushed down on the single digit that he put inside of you. “Oh my God…Eren that feels so good!..” “It does? I’m so glad, baby.. can I keep keep going, like that?” Watching you break into a smile as your eyes squeezed shut was as close to nirvana as he could get. He loved seeing you happy. Breathing heavier and begging for more when you added another and stimulated you even more. You were so incredibly tight that he was sweating bullets, wondering how he’d be able to fit inside of you. How could he top this moment?…carefully examining your body; that gorgeous skin, those perfectly round breasts that had grown exponentially since he’d first met you, dark nipples erect and drenched in his saliva as he kissed them softly and those curves that had only filled out in all the right places. He wanted to adore this beautiful body forever..make love to you until he perfected it. Until he could know every bump, line and curve that made up your frame. So much so that even in absence, you’d crave one another and no one else could ever fill that void. He wanted to love you with his eyes closed. To know every tick, every like, dislike and point that made you explode with pleasure. He wanted to be yours in flesh, mind and spirit until you both left this earth.

eventually, you’d find yourself squirming around in the sheets and with his fingers alone, you’d reach your very first orgasm! The feeling was so indescribable, you couldn’t even speak. Only curse and flail around, which he thought was so cute. Chuckling as he pulled you to his chest with a cooing tone. “Aw, baby. It’s okay. There you go, just let it out.” Embarrassed by the fact that you let out a gentle stream of liquid, thinking you had actually urinated but it was the furthest thing from. “Trust me, that’s not what happened. It’s okay, beautiful.” Neither of you even gave a damn. All you wanted was to experience him in his entirety. You’d look down and see that his cock was stiff. Swollen, thick and glowing red at the tip. You’d never seen one in real life but by comparison, it was huge and you were so scared, your knees pushed together and began to buckle as you swallowed a large gulp, wondering how you were supposed to take all of that inside of you… “..we can go slow. We don’t have to fit it all at once. You just let me know how much you can handle, okay baby?” Seemingly trying to console you when he was all but losing his mind. Slowly but surely, his tip would make place atop your overly sensitive slit. Splitting open your folds with that puffy mushroom tip. Bright red and dripping with cum..he was so ready to make you his. “Eren…” hearing the nervous yet needy quiver in your voice made him twitch on his own but he’d merely chuckle, reaching down to stroke your face. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care you, okay princess? Here, hold my hands.” without hesitation, completing devoting yourself to him, you’d intertwine your fingers with his own as he integrated from the top to the inside of your warm center. Both of you broke into a high pitched gasp, never experimenting such a sensation before. It was truly like magic..

“Oh fuck..” the words escaping each of your lips as the same time, so much so, it made you and him break into a giggle. The realization of the moment setting on you both. “We’re actually doing this, huh?” “..yeah, but I wouldn’t want it with anyone else..” with that, he’d lean down and brush the side of your face as he began to buck his hips. “I’m gonna start moving, okay? You just let me know if I need to stop..” acknowledging his question with a nod, he’d persist forth and keep pushing. One slow stroke turned into two and before he knew it, he had established a rhythm. Being as gentle and doting as possible. That tight flesh sucking him in with each thrust but still not giving way..you’d squirm and whimper but all from pleasure. You’d claw at his sides and although your eyes were shut tight, you’d let him know that you were alright. Eventually, that room filled with soft cries and the two of you uttering each others names, along with lewd moans. “It’s..so good! Fuck…” “..please, keep moving..don’t stop, Eren.” Begging for more, despite the fact that his shaft had become coated in a very thin sheath of blood and a few tears trailed down your cheek. Signifying that he had finally unwrapped the gift that you’d waited so long for him to claim. The mattress began to jolt around and the floor underneath creaking from the sounds of your lovemaking. That red liquid soon replaced by a clear mucus and his dick nestled inside of you to the halfway mark. What felt like an eternity was in reality..only five minutes and already, he was about to tap out. Panting and breathing heavily as that pace sped up. His pattern was off kilter but he still had you clawing for the sheets, screaming his name. “Yes, baby! Right there, I can feel it again. I’m gonna—“ but before you could announce your own climatic peak, he’d beat you to the punch and without thinking or warning, he’d let out a loud cry, sobbing even and spouting expletives the entire time as a warm load filled your newly defiled cunt. He was in such shock, it didn’t even dawn on him until he’d look down and see it spilling out of you.

“I—shit. I wasn’t supposed to do that. I’m so sorry, (y/n)!” But it was fine. You trusted him so dearly, the two of you forgot any protection. Luckily, you had long been on birth control for reasons unrelated to sex so you weren’t scared. Besides, in that moment, all you knew was that you wanted more. You didn’t want this moment to cease for anything. “It’s okay, baby..I’m fine. Come here..” beckoning him towards you so you could get another one of those divine kisses. It was the best part. With you both having experienced that high for the first time, you didn’t want to come down so for the entire duration of that night, the two of you made love. Exploring and enjoying each other’s bodies. Laughing, kissing, touching and making blunders..the joy that could only come from true lovers. A long time coming certainly, but a moment nonetheless that was worth the wait. By the time you finished, you were both an emotional wreck. Crying but only out of pure rejoice. Having given yourself to the one man that you’d love for the rest of eternity.

“I love you, Eren..”

“I love you more, (y/n)..”

and this time, there was no question, hesitation or doubt when those words were uttered. You were older now and for a flame that everyone was certain would die out, it was now burning brighter than ever.

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spider-man-199999 · 11 months

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gif by @userjoel

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader; Post nwh; not too canon

word count: 6K

warnings: underage drinking for USA citizens; mentions of sex

summary: Peter thought no one remembered him after the spell, however you did, but not for the reasons he was afraid you would. Mostly fluff and slow burn romance.

a/n: I'm a sucker for college!Peter, I literally cannot think about anything else. ANY SCIENCE TALK IS A BUNCH OF BS I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT CHEMISTRY OR SCIENCE.

part2

"Hey, catch!" you heard a male voice from somewhere behind you, making you turn towards the sound. A brown leather football flew throgh the air, landing in your feet. You picked it up, throwing it back to the shirtless man that was jogging in your direction.

"Thanks!!" He said after he caught it, running off back to whoever the other shirtless dude he was playing with was.

"Yeah no problem..." you muttered under your breath, trying to hide how flustered you were.

It was orientation week at Empire State University.

The weather, apparently, was still warm enough to have people running shirtless around campus, and being the shy, awkward geek you were, it was hard not to get embarrassed by any social interaction, let alone one that included both sport and a half-naked man. Overall, orientation week was going well. You checked out a few classes that sparked some interest, went to the library, the gym, even got completely settled in your dorm room. Things were going smoothly, excluding the fact you hadn't really met anyone new. Most of the people in your classes seemed like they already knew at least one person and stuck to them. Since you were not really the type to go out of your way and approach people, it left you walking around campus alone, sitting in class alone and even eating alone. It wasn't all that bad, just lonely. Your roommate hadn't arrived on campus yet either, so everything felt especially odd to you, like you were invisible to everyone.

Four days in and the long walks between buildings were already annoying. It was so easy to get lost or distracted on the way between buildings. You didn't know the shortcuts yet, so it was always a hazard whether you would make it to class on time. Miraculously you got there early, and gave yourself a mental praise for that. You didn't expect to actually be in a lab on the first day of class, and were glad you got there on time because there were barely enough lab coats for everyone in the room. You really didn't want to be the freak who wasn't wearing one. You scanned the room as you sat down on one of the desks, secretly praying that this class wouldn't require having a lab partner or work in groups because it was going to make you feel even worse. And as you were stalking the people around you, your eyes landed on someone who looked suspiciously familiar. He wasn't terribly tall, curly brown hair, one backpack over his shoulder, flannel shirt over a plain white t-shirt and regular blue jeans. You could recognise Peter Parker from miles away. You've never felt so terrified and so excited at the same time. You finally knew someone in this university and it had to be him of all people. He never told you he was going to ESU. In his defense, you couldn't really recall ever speaking to him. You used to have the biggest crush on him back in high school, but never gathered the courage to actually chat him up, even if it were about homework. He never got assigned as your partner on a project either (no matter how many times you would fantasize about it), so you just graduated one day and accepted the fact it just wasn't meant to be.

But now you were presented with the perfect opportunity to actually talk to him and decided to take it. Unfortunately, the class started before you could approach him. You tried your best to keep your focus on the professor, but it seemed as if that was not necessary, he was only going over the main goals of the class and what books you would need. You sneakily looked over Peter from time to time, thinking about what would be best to say to him and not make it awkward.

The class was over in the blink of an eye, which made your heart beat pick up because you no longer had an excuse to not approach him. There was a line forming around the coat hangers, which you thought was going to be the best way to casually start a conversation. You cut the line when you saw Peter hang up his coat, putting yours next to his and smiling at him. He smiled back when the two of you locked eyes.

"Hey" you said "Peter Parker, right?"

He looked a bit stunned by your question. First, he was starstruck because the prettiest girl he had ever seen came out of nowhere and greeted him and secondly, she knew his name. And that was not supposed to be like this at all. His mind was rushing and calculating how it were possible. Were you a supervillain from an alternate reality trying to expose him? Or did the spell just not work on you? All of the scenarios seemed very bad for him.

The way he just sat there and said nothing was making you extremely nervous. It did feel like a terrible idea now that you had done it.

"We used to take Spanish together in high school." you added, your voice shaking slightly from the anxiety. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm really sorr-"

"Wait Spanish?" he finally said, his theories crumbling down when he realized what was actually going on. You were no supervillain, just an old classmate. Yet, he was sure he would have remembered you.

"I really don't remember..." he continued, feeling his cheek heat up.

"Oh that's fine, we never really... spoke? Like at all, I sat all the way in the back and no one could make me say a word."

He laughed softly at your words.

"Wanna discuss this over coffee? If you don't have any other classes?"

"I'm free, so yeah, we could grab a coffee"

20 minutes later the two of you were laughing over how ridiculous you looked in the yearbook. Peter was holding your phone and looking at the photo in which you still had braces on, your eyebrows were so badly drawn on because you thought shaping them with a razor the night before was a good idea. It was not, you shaved off so much from one of them you had to fill it in. And since it was your first ever filling eyebrows in, it was very, very bad. Also, your hair looked like it was made out of dark matter, because you recently had it dyed black, straightened it and accidentally put a bit too much hair oil on it. You were definitely not having a good time back then, but it was a small price to pay to hear Peter laugh so hard. A 4-month accutane treatment to acne and taking your braces off could really make a person change enough. It was a glow up and Peter could really see it now.

"Okay now that I've seen that, I actually do remember you! You're the girl that got hit in the head with a basketball while tying her shoes on the bench during gym! Somehow you fell back and got under the benches so I had to pull you out."

"Oh no" you whined, hiding your face in your hands to hide how hard you were blushing. And he was right, that really did happen once, and it was that moment that actually started your little crush on him. You were probably 14 when it happened. You fell under the bleachers and felt so embarrassed that you froze on the spot, feeling like crying. People came running towards you, Peter beating them to it, and pulled you out by the hand. He dusted your shirt off and asked if you were alright. To your teenage mind he came in like a knight in shining armor, and it made you fall for him, very hard.

''Come on, it wasn't that bad!" he said between laughs, giving your phone back.

"It was bad, like really bad. How can your only memory of me be my worst moment in high school?''

"If that's your worst moment, you were doing good."

You took a sip from your coffee, your finger tracing the rim of the paper cup once you placed it down on the table. You really were regretting not talking to him in school, he seemed like such a nice person, you would have been good friends.

"Why did you decide to go to ESU? I thought you had plans to go to MIT with your friends."

"Oh, I didn't get in."

"Yeah, totally sounds believable, Peter Parker, the Stark intern, highest SAT score in our grade, didn't get into MIT" you said sarcastically, shaking your head at him.

He sighed, looking down at his hands. His leg started bouncing under the table and he suddenly seemed tense. Now it really did feel believable, based on his reaction.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay, honestly I was so sure I would get in too, but I don't think I ended up at a bad place"

"Obviously you didn't, I chose ESU, which makes it the best place ever. And now that I know you're here too, I get double confirmation for that."

He laughed softly at your words.

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A few weeks later you were actually glad to have to work in pairs in the lab because Peter asked you to be his partner.

You arrived just before the class started, sitting down at the table and putting your protective goggles on.

"Sorry" you said as you sat down next to him, taking the empty flask that was sitting in front of him and immediately starting to mix the things you managed to read on the board.

Peter smiled at you as he watched you, doing his own thing which you didn't pay too much attention to.

"Roommate problems again?" he asked.

Being lab partners meant the two of you had to talk regularly, which led to getting closer. You didn't know many people there besides him and your nightmare of a roommate.

"You have no idea." you sighed, dropping a few droplets into a test tube. The mixture inside started smoking up slightly, you swirled it around until it stopped, passing it to him so he could heat it up.

"What did she do this time?"

"Locked me in and took both of the keys on her way out. I had to call her to come back and unlock, she was pissed."

"Still don't get how someone can be so rude to you for no reason."

"I don't think she hates me really, she hates the idea of me. Not every 3rd year student is keen on the idea of babysitting a freshmen, I totally get that."

Peter wrote something down in his notebook after the mixture started bubbling up. You looked at it, brows furrowing.

"What's the temperature?"

"140 F"

"Peter that's not supposed to happen" you said worried

"Actually it is, you didn't have the time to read the board and put only half"

"Oh-"

He removed the test tube, letting it cool down.

"It's okay, we'll just multiply it by two."

"Sometimes I wonder what I would do if you weren't here."

"Probably blow up the place."

You rolled your eyes at him before the both of you laughed, continuing your work. You tried being more concentrated now, and for the most part it was working out. Until Peter would roll up his sleeves and expose his forearms. Or when he would take the goggles off to fix his hair. You tried staring as discreetly as possible, but he probably did notice it every time.

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That same night was your first ever frat party. You weren't really a fan of parties, the high school ones you went to were boring but you were hoping that college ones were going to live up to the hype everyone was giving them. Plus, you were trying to make amends with your roommate, and she wanted some alone time with her boyfriend back at your place. The idea of frat boys really turned you off, you had seen more than enough of them in class and around campus.

The music was booming through the speakers as you entered the house, people were everywhere. You could barely squish through the crowd, it was barely 10 pm and people were already wasted. You really wanted to let loose that night too, so you made it over to the bar and took whatever drink was handed to you first. It was vodka. Tasted bitter and burned down your throat and stomach as you drank it. The stress from university and the complicated relationship with Ruth, your roommate, were really starting to get you. Add your unresolved feelings for Peter to the mix and you really do have a strong enough pressure to make you explode like a time bomb. So, you wanted to take some pressure off by drinking and dancing. No one knew you here anyway so it was relatively easy to just do whatever you wanted.

Five shots of vodka were already in your system by the first hour. The dance floor was yours to take. A red plastic cup in your hand while you were swaying to the rhythm of the song playing, boys were coming from left and right to dance together. And you did dance with them, probably even made out with one or two as well. It continued for what felt like forever, until 2 am rolled around and you started feeling tired and wasted. And the alcohol in your blood was about to hit you in the worst way possible and make you overthink everything that was going on around you. At that point you were sat on a couch in the trashed living room and some dude was talking to you. His hand was on your knee. You were too preoccupied by your own thoughts to even listen to whatever he had to say.

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Peter hid behind his apartment building on campus, looking around to make sure no one would see him as he took off the spider-man costume. Ever since he went back to no one knowing his identity, he had to sneak around. He couldn't risk any of his roommates seeing him accidentally so he took the costume off outside after patrol, shoved it in his backpack and walked in. If anyone was ever awake and asked where he was, he would say either the library or doing lab work with you. He really did use you as an excuse a lot to his roommates, which gave them all kinds of wrong ideas. He didn't share a bedroom with anyone, which made his life so much easier, but there was a whole other bedroom with two boys in it in his apartment.

No one was awake when he walked in, throwing his bag on the floor next to his bed. He felt shattered. The whole studying and spider-man business was draining his batteries like never before. Peter lay down on the bed, too tired to even get out of his jeans. He was rapidly drifting into sleep when his phone started ringing. He groaned in annoyance, looking at the screen only to see it were from you. Peter quickly picked it up, any feeling of tiredness leaving his body when he heard you crying on the other side of the phone.

"Hey, hey, what happened? Are you hurt? Where are you?" he asked, panicked.

"Ruth locked me out again." you cried on the phone "She left her key in, she was with her boyfriend and they were probably doing the deed and locked themselves and fell asleep."

You babbled really fast, he was trying to understand what you were saying but it was muffled by soft sobs. And you didn't sound sober either.

"Peter, you fix all of my lab mistakes, please fix this."

He wasn’t sure what to do, especially since he didn’t know where you lived exactly. There weren’t many opinions in this situation, he could either find you and kick the door down so you could get in your place or he could take you in his room and let you sleep there.

“Can you tell me where you are?”

“In front of my dorm?”

“I don’t know where that is, genius”

You continued sobbing at his words, which made him feel even worse. You were very vulnerable and probably scared and he was acting poorly.

“Okay, okay, sorry, I didn't mean that. Tell me where your dorm is and I’ll come fix it, okay?”

“It’s the one next to the library”

He hopped out of his bed, rushing towards the building.

When he got there he saw you sitting on the steps, looking down at your feet.

"Hey" he said, standing in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he watched you slowly look up to him. Your eyes were red from all the crying and your cheeks were still wet from the tears. Peter sat down next to you with a sigh, the second he did that he could tell you had been drinking. The smell of vodka and cigarettes were all over your clothes.

"Hi" you muttered back after a while, not really sure what to say or do at this point.

"So what happened?" he whispered to you, bumping his shoulder into yours

"I got locked out, again" you whispered back, looking at him. He was smiling, a warm, comforting smile that made you feel so incredibly guilty that you called him.

It made you realize what time it actually was, and that you probably woke him up. It was the middle of the night, and you woke up the closest thing you had to a friend here to help you. You ruined his sleep so he could save you from something you could have probably figured out on your own if you weren’t drunk.

"Come on" he said, getting up and reaching out his hand to help you up as well. ''Let's get you out of here"

You took his hand, the tears were welling up in your eyes again as you looked at him. He seemed so tired, yet he came rushing to your rescue.

He walked in his room, trying to be as quiet as possible.

"Wow you have a double bed??" you said as you looked around his room.

"Oh, yeah" he said, blushing when he saw the state of it. He didn't really think about making the bed before he left and the bedding looked like scrambled eggs with all the pillows and blankets everywhere. Peter didn’t want to look messing in front of you but it was too late for that.

"Lucky duck"

Peter was kind enough to take out some clothes for you to sleep in while you showered. It was a spare pair of pajama pants and an old star wars t-shirt. He looked away while you got dressed and helped you into bed after that.

"I can't thank you enough for this."

"Oh, you can, you can do my calculus homework."

The both of you laughed after that. He grabbed a pillow and a blanket, with the intention of sleeping on the couch.

"Where are you going?"

"To sleep?"

"Not here?"

"Well, no-.... I-.... Don't want to invade...."

"I feel bad enough about it as it is, please come sleep in your bed, it's big enough" you whined.

Peter stood at the door. He really didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, or crush you while he slept but at that point he was so shattered that the bed seemed like the best thing that could happen to him. You got up and pulled him towards the bed, grabbing the pillow and blanket with your other hand and throwing them on.

Peter was asleep the second his head hit the pillow, and you followed a minute or two later. It didn't feel as weird to sleep in the same bed as the two of you had anticipated. Maybe the alcohol helped. You were pretty sure that it was, in fact, the alcohol that made you call him, the one that insisted on sharing the bed as well. Sober you would probably be a flustered mess just from the thought of being in Peter's bedroom alone.

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The second Ruth knew you had somewhere to sleep over, she took advantage of it. It was happening so often that you basically had a schedule when you would sleep over at Peter's. He didn't mind one bit because it was a reason to spend time with you. Plus, you did all your work for classes together, even in classes you or him weren't taking. So by the middle of the semester, you two were practically platonically dating.

And it made you feel the worst and the best type of ways at the same time. You absolutely loved spending time with him and your feelings were only getting deeper and deeper with each day. Somehow, you still felt like you were taking away the college experience from him. He declined every party opportunity his roommates suggested, he rarely spoke to other girls and if he went out with friends from other classes, he would always make you tag along with them. Everyone thought that if you were not dating, then you were definitely hooking up, no matter how many times you denied it. Truth being told, it was actually kind of weird that you weren't doing either of those. And it got even weirder when someone else started expressing an interest in Peter.

Surprisingly enough, even to yourself, you actually liked going to parties. The alcohol helped you loosen up and talk and since Peter actually had other friends, now you knew some people here and there. You would always find someone to chat with at a party and you learned that socializing wasn't at all as scary as it seemed before.

Tonight you found yourself at a random party in some basement of the dorm on the other side of campus. You knew that you'd be home late so the arrangements of staying over at Peter's were already made. As you were speaking to someone from your beginner-friendly biology class, a girl approached you. She was tall, way taller than you, had long dark hair and an amazing body. She grabbed your arm and said your name in a questioning tone. You nodded slightly taken aback from the interaction.

"Can I borrow you for a second?" she asked, turning to the other person in an apologetic smile.

"Sure."

She pulled you a bit away, still holding your arm right above the elbow. The whole thing was making you tense for some reason.

"I'm sorry that I asked like this." she said, letting your arm go. "Actually, we've met before, I take calculus with Peter Parker, he brought you over at one of our group study sessions."

"Oh. Right." you did remember her now, but she looked slightly different with heavy makeup on. She definitely looked like one of the it girls on campus and you got the impression that she actually was.

"So I wanted to ask if you and Peter were a thing?"

Once again you were stunned by a question from her. You looked around for some reason, she was making you feel uneasy.

"Um, no, we're not."

"Great!" she said with a bright smile. "Do you think he'd be into me? He has this nerdy sex appeal, I actually really want to get with him."

You were blinking in disbelief towards her. This whole thing was really not making you feel well about your situation. She was gorgeous and she wanted to fuck your crush, it was going to end badly for you. You felt something like a ball in your throat that you knew even the gin couldn't wash down.

"Well, good luck with that." you said, patted her shoulder and walked away before you started crying in front of her.

The whole situation really put you in a bad mood. There was nothing particularly wrong with it, but it managed to burst the bubble you were so peacefully living in. It got you wondering if Peter had his eyes on someone, if he was sleeping around with different girls, if he was going on dates. You kept imagining it, and drinking to try to stop, but nothing seemed to help. You couldn't spend every waking second with him to know, plus he never talked about girls with you. You didn't know who he was texting, or if he were going out with someone and not telling you. You were sure he wasn't because no girlfriend would ever feel okay with some random girl sleeping over as much as you did. Then again, he could be hooking up with someone, you were only sleeping over two or three times a week.

You were so preoccupied by your worries that you almost didn't pick up your phone when Peter called. He said he finished whatever work he had to do and was going to come to the party and pick you up. It made you even more anxious.

He walked through the door 15 minutes after the phone call. The whole thing was a sensory overload for him, the music was way too loud, the colors were too flashy, people were everywhere. He was constantly on edge because people were walking a little too close and his reflexes were being triggered. He hated parties. He hated the idea of you liking them even more. With the amount of time the two of you were spending together in the last few months, he grew very attached, he even developed a little crush of his own, but he was too terrified to admit that. Given his background and his secret, he wasn't too sure he wanted to put you through what MJ had gone through. He felt like it would be unfair to lie to you at the same time, it's not something you could hide from the person you're dating.

People greeted him here and there, giving him brofists and handshakes. Peter really felt like a real frat boy, but he hated the experience. He froze in his tracks when he saw a girl that looked just like you making out with some dude. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, his chest tightened and it felt like someone set his lungs on fire. You were wearing black skinny jeans and a black top, hair was tied in a bun and your tongue was in someone's mouth. Was that why you sounded so weird on the phone? Was that why you waited so long to pick up? Peter was too stunned to even move so he just stood there in shock for a few seconds. He felt a hand on his shoulder, which made him snap out of it, turning his head. He met your eyes when he looked down, giving you a confused look. His head turned back to the other you that was still exchanging saliva with a guy, then back to the actual you. He finally started breathing again. Your outfit was actually nothing like the girl's, you had a long-sleeved light blue dress on that had a v-cut. It made you look really desirable and the way the color mixed so well with the lighting in the room, you looked like you walked straight out of Peter's dreams. He was practically trying to take pictures of you with his eyes for later.

"What?" you asked as you noticed his stare, looking at your dress for accidental spills or any signs of why he was looking at you like that.

"Nothing, actually." he said, taking the cup you were holding and finishing whatever was in it. He didn't really care what was in, alcohol had little to no effect on him but he liked to pretend.

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

You expected to go home shortly after Peter's arrival, but things didn't play out that way. The girl that talked to you about him earlier tonight saw the two of you and came over to chat. After 15 minutes of them talking and you awkwardly standing there, holding an empty cup in your hand, you were feeling more annoyed than ever. And pretty drunk too. You were already in a bad mood because of her, and when Peter suggested walking her to her dorm you just felt like crying. Your feet were killing you because of the heels you were wearing and you made sure to inform him but he seemed to have forgotten about that.

And now, all three of you were walking around campus to get her safely to her room. You were giving them a side eye the whole time while she tried to scoot over closer to him. And when she said she was cold she could offer his flannel, you rolled your eyes so hard you got scared they'd get stuck and not come back. Unfortunately, they did come back and you had to witness him putting his shirt over her shoulders. Once at her dorm, she even had the audacity to kiss his cheek before walking in. It made him blush, and you, you were really about to throw up at that point. It felt like a very weird game of chess, and she had checked you in it.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked when he saw how you looked. Gorgeous, he thought, but kind of pale and like you would collapse any second.

"No" you said, your eyes meeting his. You could see the lipstick stain on his skin from the other girl and now you really did feel like throwing up. You were only 3 steps away from him and he made them so fast you felt like he teleported.

"No, no, Peter, step away" you told him, your hand covering your mouth while you rushed to the nearest trash can and actually threw up. He rushed after you, holding your hair as you did.

"You didn't look THAT drunk." he said, patting your back while you were coughing.

"This is so embarrassing" you cried softly, as if this night wasn't humiliating enough.

"There, there, I hope you got it all out because I am not changing my sheets for the second time today."

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"I'm thinking about switching my field of studies." you said, looking at Peter.

He took his glasses, looking at you in disbelief. He was sat at his desk, trying to solve a math problem while you were lying on his bed, playing on your phone.

"Chemistry doesn't do it for you anymore?" he asked mockingly.

"No, I just hate spending so much time with you." you replied in the same tone, sticking your tongue out at him.

It had been a week since the whole party thing. You didn't throw up at his place, but you did have the worst hangover of your life. Peter helped you through it, but didn't pass up an opportunity to make fun of you.

"Then why are you here? I'm sure there's a party somewhere on campus."

"Shut upppp" you groaned, throwing a pillow at him. He caught it mid air and put it on the back of his chair before turning to finish his work.

It felt like it was too early to sleep but you didn't have anything better to do since Peter was so busy with math. You turned on your side, facing the wall, since you liked sleeping on the side next to the wall, and closed your eyes. You didn't know how long it had been but you were definitely asleep when you got woken up by a knock on the door. You looked up with confusion, half asleep when Peter gave you an apologetic smile and got up from his chair to check who it was.

He assumed it was one of his roommates that either lost or forgot his key, but he was surprised to open the door to his calculous classmate.

"Hey, Pete." She said "May I come in?"

"Sure-" he said, letting her in

The girl walked over to the couch and sat down.

"Remember last week when you gave me this shirt?"

"I do." he said, only now noticing what she was wearing. It was his flannel, with a belt around her waist.

"Well, I came to return it." she said, unbuttoning it and taking it off. She got up, only in her underwear and walked towards him, handing him the shirt.

Peter was so flustered that he had to stare at his feet the whole time.

"I think you got the wrong idea here-" he started, squeezing the flannel in his hand.

"About what?" she asked, squatting down in front of him so he could see her, and, well, you know...

Just as he was about to move, the door of his bedroom flew open. You stood there, wearing his shirt as your pajamas, double taking on what you were seeing. You didn't think there would be anything serious happening, but the chatter was disturbing your sleeping attempts and you wanted to check what was going on. But now you were just frozen in your spot, staring at a half-naked girl that was on her knees in front of Peter. Both of their heads turned towards you, staring in the same amount of disbelief. It felt like your worst nightmares had turned into reality. Neither of you knew what to do or what to say and you just stood there in silence, the tension so heavy it could suffocate someone.

"It's not what it looks like." Peter managed to say, holding eye contact with you.

''I'm so sorry, I didn't know-'' she started, getting up from the floor.

"I think I'll pretend I dreamt that and go back to sleep." you said, closing the door before anyone could do or say anything else.

"Peter, I didn't know, she told me you two weren't a thing last week."

He handed her the shirt, not even bothering to look at her.

"We're not. You can keep this, go home."

She walked to the door, stopping at it to look at his back.

"I'm really sorry, if I can do anything, tell me."

"Goodnight."

He knocked gently on the door before walking in. He saw you tucked in the bed, hugging one of the pillows. You weren't really sure what to feel right now and you were trying your best not to cry. It wasn't like the things between you had changed and you had no right to be upset over his personal affairs. Peter sat on the bed next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"I know you're not sleeping, can we talk about this?"

"Talk about what?"

"What happened back there."

"There is nothing to talk about."

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

You sat up, still hugging the pillow. You pressed the back against the wall, looking directly into his eyes.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why don't you want me to get the wrong idea? Whatever that is supposed to mean."

He looked at his lap, unsure of what to say next.

"Because I'm not that kind of guy."

"Peter, it's none of my business what you do for fun."

"For fun? You think I do this for fun?"

"You're not doing math for fun, that's for sure."

"Are you always a bitch or is it a defense mechanism?"

"You were the one who wanted me to ''not get the wrong idea'' and suddenly I turned into a bitch?"

"Okay, I overstepped on that one. Nothing happened there, I haven't talked to her or seen her since we left the party together and you threw up."

"Okay, for some reason I believe that, but why should it be concerning me?"

"Stop pretending."

"Excuse me?"

He didn't say anything after that, just pulled your arm so you could get closer to him and kissed you. It happened so fast you couldn't really process it. Once the shock was over, you kissed him back. You probably looked like a teen movie kissing scene, you on your knees and arms while he was sitting, one arm for support and the other one cupping your face as you kissed.

"I should have done this way sooner." he said after you parted.

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cameronspecial · 6 months

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Omg omg omg im literally love Zach Maclaren ‼️‼️

Can you please do like a Zach x gf!reader maybe on like the ski trip where Zach is just obsessed with his gf and it’s just fluff and cuteness pleaseeeeee 🫶🫶

Zach's Favourite Ski Activity

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Battletoads. The game that has swept the MacLaren family into its story, including the honorary member, Y/N. She is sitting on the couch in the MacLaren’s rental lodge, playing the game with the younger girl. “Oh, I am going to absolutely own you, Avery,” Y/N screams, jumping up from the couch while aggressively hitting the buttons of the game controller. Avery shakes her head, “No. No. No. You are going down, Y/L/N.” Both girls’ eyes are focused on the screen, but Zach’s are on his girlfriend. God, I should change her last name. Y/N MacLaren sounds much better, he thinks to himself. He loves how competitive she is and how she isn’t afraid to geek out about a video game with his sister. He notices that her drink is empty, so goes to get the juice to refill it. She thanks him without breaking her focus and he gives her a kiss on the forehead.

——

Zach is a pretty athletic guy. He is on the soccer team, he goes to the gym, and he has been snowboarding since he was eight years old, but nothing compares to the skill his girlfriend has. He watches from the bottom of the hill as she masterfully zooms around people, shredding the snow as she smoothly twists her board to a stop in front of him. “Baby, that was amazing,” he praises, running to wrap his arms around her waist. She grins at him, “Thanks, but I think I could’ve done that last jump a little better.” “No, you couldn’t have. It was absolutely perfect. Just like you,” he contradicts, punctuating each word with a kiss. Her head moves from side to side, “You think everything I do is perfect.” “What can I say? My girlfriend is flawless,” he shrugs off, walking her toward the chalet to get something to eat.

——

Y/N’s fingers grip the Jenga block tightly, trying to slowly pull it out of the tower. Zach sees the tip of her tongue sticking out and he finds it so cute. She can feel his breath against her neck, realizing now just how close he is to her. He is too busy taking in the scent of her perfume to notice her raised eyebrow at his proximity. She isn’t wearing her citrus perfume and it doesn’t smell like the flowery one he bought her for her birthday, so it must be a new one. He’ll have to check her room to see what it is. He likes to buy a bottle of her perfumes in case she ever needs it at his dorm and because he likes to spray whatever perfume she is wearing that week on his pillow. “Zach, can you back up a little bit, please? I’m trying to concentrate,” she mumbles, focusing back on her task at hand.

Once she places her block at the top of the tower, she waits for Zach to take his turn, but he doesn’t. “What perfume are you wearing? It isn’t the one I got you or your orange one. It must be new,” he ponders out loud. She gives a small laugh, “Is that really what has you with your head in the clouds? My perfume?”

“Yeah, I like to know what scent you are wearing so I can spray the same one on my pillow.”

“Careful, Zach. Keep talking like that and I’ll think you are obsessed with me.”

He knows she is joking, but he looks her dead in the eyes. “Baby, you don’t need to think about it. I want you to know how obsessed with you I am. You are the only one for me and you need to know that.”

#zach maclaren #zach maclaren x reader #the other zoey #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey one shot

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1d1195 · 9 days

Text

Ding - Round 3

Read Ding here | ~6.5k words

Warnings: scummy man appearance, angst involving the frustration/grief/sadness of the last part regarding her shitty experience with said scummy man, fluff

Summary: Harry wants to know what happened to Cupcake. She really isn't sure she wants to tell him. Until she has to.

From me: NEW DIVIDER BY @babegoals THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR CREATIVITY AND SUPPORT AND JUST EXISTING 💕

Harry was mad.

Fuming. He had thought about nothing else but seeing her for the last two months and now that he had seen her, he was pissed to see her at his self-defense class. He asked her the same question about ten times throughout the instruction. He was furious and irritated that everyone else needed his help (even though it was literally what he was being paid for) when all he wanted was to talk to her.

He was all for helping women feel empowered. But he was mad she needed it. He knew she was feisty. The fact that she was there said a lot in its own right. The way she bantered with him until three in the morning texting him the other night made him smile more than he could describe. It was flirty and sweet. But always had him guessing if she would suddenly stop messaging for one reason or another.

Someone like her needed someone—maybe even someone like Harry—to make sure nothing bad ever happened to her. And he knew. He knew why women went to self-defense classes. He had been teaching these classes since before he owned his own gym.

He knew.

"Why are y’here, Cupcake?" He asked gruffly. The other women nearby were all but forgotten. One was mid-sentence, asking to clarify something Louis had said. Harry was practically rude to just ignore her question in favor of his own.

“Umm... for self-defense,” she muttered trying to focus on Louis’ answer.

Harry didn’t want her banter right now. (As cute as it was to him, despite his irritation.) “Right. But usually everyone has a story that... convinces themselves t’sign up. So what’s your story?” He repeated.

He watched the way her cheeks warmed at his assessment, and she folded her arms protectively in front of her. Guarding herself. “That’s kind of personal, Harry.”

Once Harry’s anger took hold, it was hard to backtrack. “Listen,” he shook his head. The annoyance that clouded his eyes and covered his face was so obvious, she felt the slightest bit bad about interrupting his lesson with her own issues. “M’not good at this kind of thing, Cupcake. Being subtle. I punch people for a minimal living and work the rest of m’time here, teaching people how t’punch.”

Part of her wanted to break down and tell him. Because as much as she was willing to do this on her own, she was so scared. That nervousness made her feel even weaker, and she wanted to tell Harry, she realized. She wanted someone to know and to help her because this wasn’t something she wanted to deal with on her own—it was too much.

But she couldn’t do it right in the middle of a self-defense lesson, surrounded by strangers. “I’m here to learn how to punch,” her voice was even and final.

His nostrils flared and he stalked back to the front of the room, a trail of anger coming off him as he did. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with her.

The remainder of the lesson went by without incident on Harry’s part. He watched her the entire time. The way she flinched when they practiced moves made him nauseous. But he couldn’t help but notice how good her stances were. Almost natural. “Hey, love,” Louis smiled at her kindly as he geared up to practice more tactile moves. “You liked his match so much you wanted to try on your own?” He asked.

She smiled, but it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “Something like that.”

“It’s good skills to have,” he assured her gently, because even though Harry’s infatuation annoyed him at the time, he knew Harry liked her. A lot. Knew just as well as Harry did why women signed up for a self-defense class. “You have a very natural stance,” he noted. “We should get you in the ring,” he winked at her.

She laughed lightly. “I don’t even know how to make a fist,” she snorted.

Louis chuckled giving her a gentle shoulder squeeze and moved onto the next person.

Harry moved in front of her next and he looked at her footing. Aligned near perfectly and practiced as if she had been doing it her whole life. He was still steaming with anger. It rolled off him and demanded to be felt—and she felt every bit of it. “S’like you’ve done this before,” he muttered.

“I haven’t,” she answered. “I’m just good at following directions. Like a recipe, you know?”

He was staring at her feet and trailed up to her hand where he carefully took hold of her delicate fingers. Instantly, it felt like her whole arm was made of jelly. Her heart took off about the speed of an airplane and she was lucky she could hear anything over the sound of it. Harry touching her skin made her feel faint. Carefully, he bent her fingers and tucked her thumb below the flat of her knuckles. It felt so intimate it seemed wrong to be doing this in a class put on for the public. Holding her wrist, he brought her fist to his cheek and tapped it against his skin a few times. “Like that,” he murmured.

She wanted to be cute and smile. Say something like, I’ll keep that in mind for strangers in dark parking lots when I ding their car. But instead, she was overcome with gratitude for the knowledge and a bit of awe. She was speechless without meaning to be. He released her wrist, and she wanted nothing more than to grab his hand again and never let go. “Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded sullenly.

Harry felt defeated—something he didn’t enjoy at all. Rarely did he feel it, but he wished he felt defeated after a match more so than he did right then. All he could do was walk away from her and finish the lesson without chatting with her again.

In hindsight, confronting her in the middle of a self-defense lesson wasn’t his wisest choice. The following morning, he had a renewed spirit and was once more determined to chat with her and figure out what made her join a self-defense class.

What he hadn’t anticipated was how stubborn she could be. He should have known but he was willing to dig his heels in as long as she was. Harry went to the bakery morning, noon, and night—literally—trying to figure out her schedule. “Again?” The girl behind the counter asked suspiciously when they returned at four in the afternoon on the third day of waiting. She had been there all day and hadn’t said anything up until their third arrival.

Niall shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, darling. He’s being super creepy, yeah?” Niall elbowed him with irritation. They sat at a table as they had the last few days. They didn’t stay long, only fifteen minutes to half an hour. (And they only stayed half an hour once because Niall had to get one of the cronuts that he had been pining for since he saw them.)

Harry was looking at their text message thread. The last message was from him. Are you working now? C’mon, Cupcake, you’re killing me here :(

It went unanswered since yesterday afternoon.

“He’s trying to talk to Miss Cupcake,” Niall rolled his eyes. He missed the back and forth between the girl behind the counter. “But I think he’s being a bit ridiculous.”

“Oh, were you her bad date?” She frowned.

Harry was still looking at his phone, checking his schedules, and making sure he didn’t miss anything in his email or messages from his mum or sister. But the moment the girl behind the counter spoke, his head snapped up to meet her gaze.

“What bad date?” He asked, his voice low, menacing.

The girl behind the counter blanched. Feeling bad she revealed something she obviously wasn’t supposed to and quite honestly, if he was her bad date, that was a horrible thing to announce. It was a reflex. “I don’t know, actually,” she tried to backtrack. “I don’t know why I said that out loud.”

“We won’t tell, darling,” Niall assured her. “Do you know when Miss Cupcake works, it would save Harry—and you—a lot of trouble.”

“OH!” She shook her head and went around to the front of the counter. Her eyes widened. “You’re Harry. Context clues, I didn’t recognize you without gloves,” she smiled excitedly. “Thank goodness, I almost closed this place down.”

Harry turned to the girl again feeling a warmth pass over him at the idea that she talked about him to her friend. “Oh brother, so she does like Harry?” Niall grumbled.

“I’m Maeve,” she announced.

“Maeve,” Harry stood up and held his hand out to her. “Nice to meet you.”

“You have a very cute niece.”

Now Harry really couldn’t help but smile because that little girl was practically his own pride and joy. And she was very cute. Plus, it meant she really was talking about Harry to her friend and that had to mean something. “Thank you, she’s perfect,” he agreed. But then he refocused on why he was haunting the bakery. “Does she not work during the day?”

“She pops in,” Maeve shrugged and fiddled with the cupcake display. He noted there was a raspberry filled one on the top tier. He recognized that cake and frosting pair anywhere. “But she’s been mostly coming in after close,” she admitted. “She’s been a little...stingy with details about everything. She gets like this sometimes. Compartmentalizes things so she can deal with it when she needs to,” Maeve bit her lip. “She’s visiting her dad right now.”

Harry realized there was very little he really knew about her. Most of their chatting had surrounded the bakery, boxing, and Harry’s niece. There was a little bit of information about their education and some books and hobbies they liked. But there wasn’t a huge depth of knowledge of her family.

“Oh,” Harry felt defeated again. “Uh... I guess we’ll go then,” he mumbled. “Try later.”

Maeve sighed. “She really likes you, Harry. Really,” she promised with a sad smile. “She’s just...a little stubborn and careful with her heart.”

Harry nodded. “Got it,” he could handle that.

She parked as close as she could to the bakery in the parking lot. Thinking about all the steps and stances that Louis and Harry had told her during her class. She took a deep breath and opened her car door. As she went to the back of her car to grab supplies from her trunk, she noticed a plethora of other cars parked in the lot—most people were probably at the restaurant near the waterfront. But there was no way she could miss the car she had accidentally dinged with her door just a few spaces down and across the row from her.

Once more, her gaze met the intense green gaze in the driver’s seat. She sighed knowing there was no escaping this talk anymore. Harry put a bookmark in the novel he was reading while waiting and set it on the passenger seat beside him. He locked his car and hurried to her side, taking the heavy bags of flour and sugar she bought to tide her over until the delivery came to the bakery in the morning. He didn’t speak to her as they walked to the storefront. She was overwhelmingly aware, once more, how safe she felt with Harry beside her in the nearly deserted parking lot. She unlocked the front and held the door open for Harry to enter. “Were you waiting long?” She asked.

He shrugged, putting the supplies on his now regular table while she fiddled with the display case and cupcake display once more. The raspberry one was missing from the top and she went behind the counter to get another. Harry closed the door and locked it, so she was safe inside. It was dark, the only light was a low soft glow coming from the case of treats. It had the glow of a candle, and he wondered if there was a way to keep it that way during the day because it was so warm it made him want one of everything that was in the display. “Yes,” he nodded. “S’okay.”

That felt worse. If he was willing to admit it, it meant he was there a while.

“I’m sorry,” her cheeks felt warm. “I should have just told you when I was working,” she was willing to admit when she was wrong. Harry watched in fascination as she placed the raspberry filled cupcake on top. He wondered if it had always been the one she put on top. He would have imagined the chocolate ganache one was a fan favorite, or the vanilla sprinkles one with the little toothpick and label of A Pinch of Sprinkles on it.

He shrugged again, nearly indifferent. “S’okay,” he repeated. “Read most of my book.”

“Is it a good read?” She asked and grabbed the bag of flour Harry had settled on the table and started for the back. He grabbed the bag of sugar and followed behind her.

He nodded. “Yeah...it’s,” he sighed. “S’a little darker than I expected,” he shrugged. “Was hoping for something lighter.”

“I only read rom-coms in book form,” she smiled. “It’s very light reading, but probably not what you want.”

“Rom-coms?” He repeated. She nodded. “Y’don’t strike me as a rom-com kind of girl.”

“No?”

“Y’seem more like a film noir or suspense.”

“I’ve had enough suspense for a while,” she muttered and turned to her ovens to preheat. Harry placed the sugar beside the flour bag and sat in the same chair he sat in when he fell asleep a couple months prior. He watched her in the same way he had before as she flittered around the kitchen, humming to herself as she worked. “How’s the baby?” She asked.

They were ignoring the elephant in the room, it seemed. But it was the first time he’d seen her since the self-defense lesson. In between his visits to the bakery (his stalking grounds, as Niall was calling it) he had been splitting his time between training, teaching, and ensuring Driven, his gym, was working as expected. He had to call an electrician because the lights in the men’s bathroom kept going out despite the fact, he had already replaced the circuit and lightbulbs a handful of times. But he had gone to see Gemma and his niece two days prior to get his fix of the sweet little girl who made him feel so much better about all the frustration he felt about his favorite Cupcake.

He couldn’t help but smile. “Perfect.”

She grinned back and nodded. “Good, and your sister?”

“Good, thanks for asking,” he thought that was polite of her—he always noticed when people asked about his sister. It wasn’t often. Once the baby was there, it was like they forgot about the mum.

“Does your mom live nearby?” She asked.

“Yeah, especially with the baby. Mum sold her house the moment she found out Gem was pregnant.”

She laughed. “That’s sweet. You’re all close?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Mum’s m’hero,” his voice was filled with admiration so thick it made her feel wobbly on her feet. She wished she had that kind of admiration for her mother. “How ‘bout you? Maeve said y’were visiting your dad? He lives nearby?”

She nodded, guarded. “I feel the way about my dad, the way you feel about your mom,” she explained. There was a pause in conversation that seemed to stretch farther than it needed to. Maybe he was trying to get her to break first. Perhaps she did. “You talked to Maeve?”

He looked at her, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. “Didn’t leave me many options, Cupcake,” he reminded her.

She swallowed thickly, nodded. “That’s fair,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Can you please tell me?”

She shook her head. Harry felt so agitated, so defeated. “Not yet,” the bit of hope creeped back in. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and turned away from him. “Sorry,” she sniffled. His heart broke. Quickly, he realized it wasn’t her wanting to hide it from him. It was painful to watch that frustration fall on her face.

“Oh, kitten,” he frowned. He stood quickly and made it to her side. He put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly not wanting to touch more than she wanted or needed in that moment. His imagination could only guess what went wrong on her date and it was painful to think about for him. He wanted to comfort her, but it had to be at her pace.

At once she melted into his touch. She turned quickly, almost reflexively into his embrace. Her face pressed against his shoulder, her arms wrapped up around his back, and she inhaled shakily. It felt awful to see her sad, feel the anxiety coming off her in waves. But Harry was grateful to hold her so close to him. “M’here, Cupcake,” he promised. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, nodded against him.

Harry could live with ‘not yet.’ For now.

Over the next week, they went back to texting throughout the day and chatting well beyond bedtime on the nights she wasn’t at the bakery. Additionally, Harry walked beside her from her car to the bakery when she arrived and back through the dark parking lot. Not once did he ask her what went wrong with her date even though it was killing him. She wasn’t budging. She knew Harry was waiting for more details, but she couldn’t. It hurt and she didn’t want to think about it—even if she actually did want to tell him. It was overwhelmingly kind that Harry appeared beside her car—especially at night.

“I’m still really sorry about Clay,” she frowned. Harry didn’t park far away from her like he did the other night. But she was very mindful of her opening the door and not bumping into his car.

“S’okay,” he smiled and rubbed his fingers on the little indent. “Reminds me of you,” he winked at her.

Her heart fluttered and she looked away briefly before smiling back at him. “Like you need more reminders of me,” she murmured.

“Can never have enough, Cupcake,” he assured her. “Can I kiss y’goodnight?” He asked on the third night he walked her though the dark parking lot. Her heart literally skipped a beat. Speechless. He tapped his cheek. “Jus’ the cheek, kitten. Need a proper date before I really kiss you,” he acknowledged and smiled shyly at her. That boyish grin that made her weak in the knees. Breathlessly she nodded. His lips swept across her cheek. It was brief and soft. Like a piece of her hair had brushed over her face and tickled her skin. “Thank you,” he grinned. “Been dying t’do that,” he admitted and once more tucked her safely in her car.

Harry mentioned it only twice more. He never pressed or demanded she reveal the facts of her bad date. It was more of—what he hoped was—a gentle reminder. He was waiting for more information. All he wanted was to assuage her worries and fears. She attended the second class for her self-defense lessons (dropping off a box of blueberry scones at the front desk had everyone in the class asking if they could go after the lesson to pick out their own sweet treats). Harry continued to boil with anger just thinking about her using the moves he and Louis taught her. But it was obvious he was much less angry than the previous week. More so, his anger didn’t extend to her. He was mad, but he understood her choice to keep it to herself.

Louis was going over demonstrations using Harry as the attacker. Everyone watched with rapt attention. “Your goal is to get away,” it was repeated about a hundred times and Harry had the hardest time watching her every time it was repeated. Each time it was said, she flinched. He wasn’t sure she knew it or not—it was a reflex. But she did get away. It terrified her still.

Harry couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t pushing him away. Every night, she thanked him profusely for coming to the bakery and walking her to and from the car. She could see his anger growing beneath the surface. He wanted to know. She was trying so hard to brush it off. It wasn’t a big deal. Now she had two classes under her belt, and she promised herself she would never be in such a vulnerable position again.

“Can I watch you at work?” She asked randomly. It was a morning shift this time. She was covered in flour, and she had frosting streaked in her hair leftover from when she put it up after icing four dozen cupcakes. Harry didn’t think she could look cuter if she tried.

“Watch me?” He repeated.

“Not this again,” she smirked.

He chuckled. “Y’want to watch me train?” He repeated anyway.

She shrugged. “You always watch me bake and stuff.”

“You’ve attended the class, Cupcake. S’pretty much the same thing,” he reminded her.

He noted her cheeks turned pink. “Um...if you don’t want me to hang around then—”

Harry nearly gasped. “Oh, no. No way, kitten. I want y’around. I promise,” he assured her. “Jus’ don’t want you t’be bored.”

“I won’t be,” she shook her head.

That was how she ended up sitting beside the ring, Louis padded and guarded while Harry punched and punched and punched for over an hour. His breath was heaving, and his body was slick with sweat. She watched intently examining his form and his moves like she would one day repeat them.

When he came for water at the end of his training session, he was heavy breathing and smiling at her. He struggled to get the towel he had from his bag beside her with his gloves on. “Bored?” He asked.

“Not even a little,” she assured him, grabbing the little towel and swiping it across his forehead. It felt intimate and made Harry feel warm all throughout his body. “Can I try?” She asked with an impish smile.

He chuckled and nodded. “Come on,” he held the ropes open for her to enter the ring. She wasn’t wearing the right shoes or equipment. Louis rolled his eyes discreetly at Harry and held the pads out for her to hit. “Make the fist I showed you,” she did for both hands. “S’all the balance in your legs,” he promised. “No balance, no punch, no follow-through. Punch through the pad,” he explained and guided her hand to the pad slowly so she could see how it would look and feel to go through it.

“Pretend it’s Harry,” Louis suggested. “That’s what I do.”

She giggled. “I don’t think I could throw a punch if I thought it was Harry,” she admitted and gave her best attempt. It was honestly exhausting. She only threw a dozen or so punches and was breathless as she answered Louis.

“You’ll get there,” he assured her.

Harry scowled at him. “Take the pads off.”

“No, you lunatic.”

“Coward.”

She giggled, thanked Louis, and twisted herself out of the ring again. “That was fun,” she told him. “I can see why you like it. Plus, you’re really good at it.”

Harry was staring at her, the way that sent all the butterflies in the world directly to her stomach and began to flutter as if they were trying to escape. His gaze was firm but gentle, his eyes almost glowing somehow as he looked her over. “Please tell me, Cupcake. I want t’help,” his voice was quiet, begging ever so gently.

She looked at the floor, their shoes were nearly toe-to-toe. “I can’t,” she whispered back.

He nodded, defeat did not come easy to him, and she knew that. “I have t’shower, do some office stuff. Get ready for some lessons and classes,” he told her, his voice the slightest bit disappointed.

“Want me to watch you in the shower too?” She asked hoping to alleviate the mood. It worked, his smile returned to his pretty lips, and he chuckled.

“Hell yes, Cupcake,” he shook his head at her cuteness. “Maybe next time. Not here,” he winked.

Even though it was her that was forward it still made her blush. Plus, joke or not, she agreed here was not a good idea. “I have to do some errands anyway,” she admitted.

“I’ll walk you t’your car,” but she knew he would. It was like a safety blanket being wrapped around her.

She really liked it.

After her third self-defense lesson she was feeling more confident. She even showed Maeve some of her moves in the back kitchen. Shadowboxing the same way that she saw Harry do to Louis the night she met him. “I don’t know who thought it was a good idea to give the Queen of Sugar boxing lessons,” Maeve rolled her eyes.

Honestly, she was feeling better. More confident. Plus, she was enjoying her not-so-date-dates with Harry. There was one night when Harry wasn’t around, and she realized she missed him so much. Not only because the dark parking lot seemed more foreboding but because his presence made her happy. Happier than she had been in a really long time. It felt undeserving to be so happy but it wasn’t something she thought about when he was actually there. I missed you.

Oh? 😍

Sorry, I know that’s...

A lot...

I miss you all the time, Cupcake. Think about you all day.

The message made her warm and she wished she could explain how simple it seemed to just have Harry fit in her life. They were busy people, but he always managed to come by and see her. She enjoyed watching him train or sitting with Sarah at the front desk and chatting while he taught classes and lessons. Maeve teased her every time he arrived and she wasn’t there. Can’t you just give him your schedule? The poor guy is going to have to train twice as hard to get rid of the extra cupcake weight.

I like to keep him guessing a little 😉

Today, she was up front on her own—one of her employees called out sick and she didn’t mind in the slightest. Working up front was one of her favorite tasks. Interacting with customers and sharing her gift was something she enjoyed thoroughly. Her other coworker was out back, working on inventory and prepping the bagels for her monthly bagel sale.

Ding.

The bell attached to the front door signaled whenever customers arrived or departed. It was a busy morning. So busy that it took her a minute to realize Harry was sitting with Niall at one of the tables. Niall gave her a wave as she finally got caught in his gaze. She waved back, smiling brightly and paused the customers that were at the counter while she ran to the back and then to the table as quickly as she could. She pecked Harry on the cheek without thinking and deposited a raspberry filled cupcake and a personal sized loaf of Irish soda bread.

Harry felt as gooey as the filling on the inside of his cupcake. Her soft little kiss made him crazier for her. Watching her made him happy. Being around her made him happy. Happier than the little kid that was bullied could have dreamed.

Niall was making noises that would have embarrassed the porn industry while eating his bread. Harry snorted at him, tried to steal a piece, only for Niall to slap his hand away. “Eat your cupcake,” he nearly snarled.

“She could make more, m’sure.”

Niall shook his head stuffing his face of the treat made specially for him.

Harry liked watching her. He wondered if it was the same way she felt when she watched him. People obviously fell in love with her the moment they spoke to her. Unironically, she was so sweet. Of course she was. It was like she was a sprinkles-fairy. This ethereal being that passed out sweet treats to everyone.

Ding.

With her back turned to get another bag, she didn’t notice the influx of new customers. When she turned back, her heart leapt to her throat. She was lucky she didn’t drop the dozen cookies she was packaging.

“Shit,” she whispered mostly to herself. He hadn’t seen her yet. Fortunately, it was crowded enough to hide behind her wall of customers. All the progress she had made, the classes thus far, all seemed for naught at that moment. Her gaze darted to Harry and Niall. They were unaware of the turmoil she was facing while she packaged treats for the next customer. Her stomach churned uneasily.

If Harry just looked at her, she knew he would know. “Hey Lexi!” She called toward the back room. But Harry was chatting with Niall. Niall was focused on his soda bread. Neither of them noticed the anxiety that swept over her. Lexi doesn’t answer at first. Making her more anxious and scared. It shouldn’t be that way. He shouldn’t ruin the one place she loved most.

Niall now had crumbs on his cheeks, but his head tilted curiously in the direction of her main display. “Harry, something’s wrong,” Niall’s voice was quiet.

Harry’s gaze snapped up defensively. Sure enough, her whole demeanor had changed. Harry could see it. Her smile was tight, and her eyes darted toward the door and the customer in front of her more times in ten seconds than Harry could ever begin to count. Harry wanted to kick himself. How long had she looked like that?

After an eternity, Lexi finally appeared. She mumbled something to her employee and headed to the back kitchen. Not even a glance in Harry’s direction. Without fanfare, without permission, Harry marched his way into the back almost as soon as she left his view.

“Excuse me,” Lexi said. “Hey, that’s employee—”

“He’s fine, Lexi,” she answered quietly.

Harry found her in the kitchen, hand clutching the front collar of her shirt, her eyes lit with anxiety while she paced back and forth. “Is he here?” He asked lowly, while she moved quickly across the kitchen.

She tried to remember the last time she felt safe. It was her dad, right? Her dad before...before everything. Before she moved her shop here. Before she uprooted her life.

But there were those brief moments where she was overcome with how safe she felt in Harry’s presence. Walking to his fight for the first time. Each time he walked her to her car. How his hand felt when he pressed her fingers into a fist.

She nodded, her eyes watering.

He spun almost immediately to do who knows what. He didn’t know and she certainly didn’t know.

“No, don’t leave me!” She practically shouted before he could hardly take a step further. She started to follow him but he stopped at the sound of despair in her voice.

Harry groaned lowly; it came out nearly as a growl. He turned back to her immediately as if it pained him. “M’never leaving you,” his eyes were so dark and desperate—her whole body felt heavy at the seriousness of his words. Breathless again. “Please don’t ask me that,” his eyes darted back toward the front of the bakery.

“Harry, please,” she whispered.

His hands were already balled into fists. He shook his head. “Cupcake,” he grumbled. It was such an oxymoron in itself. Harry was calling her one of the sweetest things in the world and it sounded downright terrifying.

“Please, Harry,” she begged, grabbing one of his closed fists. “I need you,” she whispered.

Groaning again, he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Fine,” he snapped.

She felt bad making him stay. She knew she was forcing his hand, but she was scared. To soften the blow, she threw herself at him. Arms around his neck, face buried in his shirt. She sighed with relief with the feel of him: solid, warm, protective against her body. Harry was safe. He proved that already and she still hardly knew him. It wasn’t hard. It shouldn’t have been hard for her date to make her feel safe.

Harry was momentarily shocked before he returned the hug, one arm looped around her back, the other cupping the back of her head. It was like the antidote to an disease she didn’t know she had. Another loud sigh escaped her. Like the feeling of Harry was cause for another wave of relief.

“What did he do?” He mumbled into her hair. She ignored him and scrunched her eyes shut. “Please, Cupcake,” he begged. She realized she wanted to tell Harry.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered. “I don’t even know why I went out with him...I had met you and—”

“Doesn’t matter, kitten,” he shook his head. “He doesn’t get t’make y’feel unsafe,” he reminded her.

“It was such bad judgment.”

He shook his head again. “No, Cupcake. He doesn’t get t’make y’feel that way. S’not you. S’not asking a lot t’feel safe on a date. S’not even the bare minimum. Y’don’t have poor judgment. Your judgment got y’out of there that night. S’why y’signed up for classes and—”

It poured out of her at that moment. She told him everything. In the middle of the story, she tried to downplay it sensing the way his body tightened around her with every word. Explained why she signed up for the self-defense class. Every detail and emotion she felt for the last few weeks. How scared she was that very night. Why she requested Harry and chatted with him until three in the morning. How he made her feel better when she didn’t think she could. How safe she felt around him in general.

At the end, Harry pulled away from her.

Her heart felt heavy. Now he wouldn’t like her. She was broken and hurt. Harry didn’t want to be a bodyguard, nor should he have to be. “I need t’go to the gym,” he started toward the front, and she thought that was it. It was the last she would see of him. He was too overwhelmed with how stupid she was. This wasn’t what he wanted. Someone who couldn’t defend herself or be smart enough to see the signs earlier.

“Harry, I’m sorry—” She managed to croak with tears thick in her voice and vision. Right as he reached the threshold back to the front of the bakery. He was shaking. Every inch of him. She wondered how he wasn’t a blur from how much he shook. In the moment it took for the apology to form in her mouth, he was back in front of her.

He grabbed her firmly but still softly by the chin, held her sweet face between his palms. Gazed into her eyes and shook his head slowly. His eye contact was overwhelming but still felt so good. “You are to never. Ever. Apologize.” Her eyes welled with more tears. She couldn’t do anything but nod at him. Her heart felt so heavy and broken. But Harry was looking at her. Taking in every inch of her face and he sighed. “M’sorry, Cupcake; m'angry. But s'not something you need t'apologize for. Y'didn't do anything wrong. M'jus' mad I wasn't there for you,” he whispered and brought her back in to hold her against him once more. Her body felt relieved it was ridiculous for him to feel bad--he didn't even know she was going on a date. She didn't want him to feel bad.

"It's not your fault either," she whispered. Harry sighed with relief and he kissed the top of her hair.

She lost track of how long they stood there. It could have been two minutes or two hours. All she felt was Harry’s warm body against hers and reveled in how good it felt. “Call me a half hour before you’re ready to leave here. I’ll come walk you t’your car.”

She smiled softly, hoping to alleviate the tension now that a significant portion of time had passed. “Even if it’s in the middle of the night and—”

He didn’t think her joke was funny at all. “If y’call,” he repeated, interrupting her, his eyes were hard and serious. No room for joking at all. “I’ll be here.”

He was rapidly making her fall in love with him.

“Hey Dad,” she smiled softly sitting across from him at the dinner table. He grinned at her.

“Hey sweetie. How was your day?”

“Good! Did you see the game?” She asked. He nodded.

“Your guy did well, don’t you think?”

She laughed, shaking her head and blushed a bit. “Max Kepler is not my guy, Dad.”

“I didn’t say his name, honey,” he reminded her with a chuckle.

She rolled her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. “I think I met a guy, actually,” she rushed out quickly.

“Oh?” He looked at her curiously, tilted his head ever so slightly and smiled. “That’s nice, sweetie. You haven’t had a boyfriend in a while. You need someone to...chat with, depend on,” he said knowingly. “I want to know you’re taken care of.”

“Dad, that is so 1950s of you. I don’t need a guy to take care of me.”

“Oh honey, I know you don’t. But I want you to have someone,” his voice was gentle.

For a moment she just looked at him. Thought long about all the things that had happened since she met Harry almost three months prior. It was a big deal to tell her dad about Harry. She wanted to make sure it was the right move especially after she was feeling poorly about her gut feeling. But she thought of Harry, the reassurance he gave her that it wasn’t her poor judgment that caused her bad date.

“His name is Harry. He’s a boxer,” she shrugged. “The raspberry filled cupcakes are his favorite.”

“Well, then he’s perfect. Right?”

She laughed, nodded, then bit her lip. “I mean...he’s...” she sighed forgoing all the details about how she was insane to let him steer her to his boxing match. How he helped her with self-defense classes. And why she was taking self-defense classes. No. She would tell him how they met another day. When Harry and she defined more of what their relationship was... if there was a relationship to be had. “I like him,” she admitted. “Then that’s all that really matters, honey,” he assured her. It felt like a blessing.

She couldn't wait to see Harry.

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extra-gray · 3 months

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jihoon. that's it that's the ask

No bc you're so right. I literally can't stop thinking about him lately. His pretty wavy hair, his cute face, and his muscles. Imagine being on top of him and worshipping every inch of his body... breaking him down till he's nothing but a whimpering mess. Thinking about shattering that tough exterior, and having him literally bend to your will. How normally, he'd overpower you... but you have him wrapped so good around your little finger, that he can't even fight back as you use him however you like. Commanding him into positions he'd only ever seen you in, and liking it. Riding him slowly and watching the way his face changes… counting down the seconds until he feels too good to hold in his moans anymore. Just watching the way his pretty pale skin flushes pink, from his cheeks to his chest... bringing a certain heaviness to his eyes as he looks up at you through his lashes. Kissing those pretty pink lips nnnngggghhh. Sucking on them till they’re swollen.

And what about him taking you to the gym with him just to sit pretty. You're his baby! He simply wants you there. So you go and do just that, thankful it's a private gym... because god is he hot all sweaty like that. Watching his muscles flex, listening to his heavy breaths. The way it’d literally make your pussy ache so bad that the second he meets your eyes in the big mirror, you’d spread your legs teasingly and touch yourself through your clothes. He’d beg you to stop, and try to focus on his workout. But you don’t stop, and you even push your shorts and underwear to the side for easier access. His movements slow as he watches you in the mirror, his cock quickly hardening once you show him how wet you are. He can’t resist you, and immediately drops everything he’s doing to grab you and pick you up— pushing you against the wall opposite of the mirror. He’d whisper dirty things in your ear while rubbing his clothed erection against your core, and your senses are simply clouded by how good he smells despite being drenched in sweat. You’d want to lick him. And maybe you do. He’d tease you for it, seeing how filthy you are. But his soft skin is glistening, and you want it all. He’d make you beg for him to pull his cock out, and once he did, he’d run the tip up and down your slit. You can’t even move like you’d usually do, can’t force his cock in your greedy hole— because you’re in his arms, pinned against the wall. You’re completely at his mercy. And when he finally gives you what you want, you’d be absolutely ruined.

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charmercharm3r · 2 years

Text

Dirty Thoughts

LMH

Masterlist

wc: 4.7k

Synopsis: No one can beat the urges of humanity. Just give in to it, god knows your best friend wants to.

warnings: smut, softdom!minho, thigh riding, orgasm denial just once, escalates kinda quickly I lowkey didn’t proofread so lmk if there’s any grammatical errors and other warnings I should include!

Sex is normal. Wanting sex is humane, there's nothing wrong with the primal need that courses through your body. There's nothing wrong with looking at someone and thinking how much you want them to rail you into oblivion. There's nothing wrong with the way that you get hornier days before your period and even more after you've started, the routine menstruation just making it a constant cycle of sexual frustration. There's nothing wrong with wanting sex, moreso from one or two specific people because you just know they’d be so good in bed. There’s nothing wrong with lusting after one of your best friends because you can’t help but fantasize about them after they go into detail about the late night fuck they had over recently. Right?

It’s all biological in the end.

He just makes it so hard to concentrate. Minho just loves to flex right in front of you, both literally and about his sexual endeavors. At the moment, he was lifting and dropping the dumbbells he had laying around his bedroom, telling you so casually about the hookup he had a couple nights ago. “It was alright, they were good but tapped out after one round. Had to finish myself off again after they left,” he deadpanned as he continued to focus on his mini workout.

You didn’t really know how to respond when he talked about these things, especially now, too entranced by the way his muscles tensed and started to slowly work up a sweat. Minho wasn’t wearing anything out of the usual, just an everyday shirt he’d cut the sleeves off of and a pair of gym shorts he’d ridden up way too high. At least he was comfortable, although maybe too comfortable so that he didn’t mind showing skin in front of someone who was on the verge of sexual combustion.

His mouth was moving, though you couldn’t process what he was saying. From your spot on his bed, you watched his slightly exposed shoulder muscles tense through the mirror that his back was to, all while he kept his gaze on the weight in his hand. Your mind traveled to how good he’d look with your nails scratching down it, leaving red hot marks that would surely last for days. Maybe it was because you hadn’t gotten laid in so long, or maybe it was because he was so comfortable talking about sex to you that it had implanted such lewd images in your brain. Either way, he looked so delectable.

Wonder if he looks good naked, you thought, trying not to let your eyes linger too long. Though you were too slow. Minho caught you staring, slowly bringing his work out to a halt. Your face began to grow hot as you trailed your eyes from his shoulders down his arms and stopped on his hands, the blood rushing so much that the veins protruded. As you wondered what it’d be like to feel them around your neck, Minho let out a breathy laugh. “If you’re gonna stare, at least compliment me.” Cocky bastard.

“S– sorry,” was all you said, shaking your head and readjusting to lean against the headboard.

“Did you hear anything I said? Or were you too mesmerized by how hot I must look while working out?” Minho set the dumbbell down gently, riding his shorts higher to tuck them into the lower hem of his tight boxers.

“Not really. I kinda tune you out when you start talking about how good in bed whatever-their-name was,” you answered honestly.

To be fair, you did listen to him at first. However it became tiring having to hear of all the action he got when you couldn’t even bring yourself to an orgasm no matter how hard you tried. It was getting painful, how close you could bring yourself to a high just for it to simmer out because it just wasn’t enough. You tried anything you could, different vibrators and all of their different settings, different kinds of porn that could’ve potentially sparked another interest, but nothing worked. The true object of your sexual desires was just so far away. “Oh really? So you drool over me instead? I’m more than a pretty face, y’know.” He was still at the end of the bed standing while you cowered slightly into his sheets, embarrassed.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you admitted, voice low.

“How long has it been for you?” Minho asked bluntly. It made you snap your eyes open at him, shocked he’d even ask. He’d never really pushed you about your sex life, probably not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But with how you’d been looking at him like a lion to a gazelle, he was in the right to ask such a question. You shifted, tucking your legs in tighter. “A while.”

Minho’s lips piqued ever so slightly, “you like what you see?” He leaned forward onto his hands, crawling slowly up to you. Your breath hitched as he stopped just short of your feet.

“I mean… you’ve worked hard on… yourself… Don’t you want people to look?” The right words had a hard time finding their way into your head and out your mouth. He ran a hand through his already messy hair, adding to the seductiveness of the way he casually leaned on his other arm. Reaching out, he took your phone from your hand and tossed it to the end of the bed. “So you are looking,” he smiled wickedly, lips extra plump. Minho noticed the tension behind your eyes, unsure if you should cross the invisible line that your friendship lies behind. “If it makes you feel better, I‘ve always been looking at you the same way. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” your voice was almost a whisper.

“C’mon, Y/N. I have a key to your house. I’ve heard you. Just ‘cause you can’t hear anything outside the bathroom when you shower doesn’t mean I can’t hear you inside.” It was like your heart stopped beating, realizing what he was referring to. All the times he was sitting in your living room with his hands politely folded in his lap, staring at the TV that hadn’t been turned on with a smile as if he was waiting for something. You always just assumed he was waiting for you to come out. In a way, you suppose he was.

You were sure your whole face was bright pink, forehead starting to sweat thinking about how Minho has heard you moaning his name. “You think about me when you touch yourself, don’t you?”

“Minho, I—“

“I do too. I think about you,” his tone dropped to an octave you’ve never heard from him before. Sitting up, he tugged your bent knees from under you and pulled you down the bed, head laying in the pillows. You don’t know why you let him, because now he hovered over you, breath hot and heavy as his face came in close. “When I’m with those other girls,” you bit your lip unconsciously, watching his eyes flutter between your own and your lips. “I think about you, wishing it was you under me. Sometimes, I have to shut myself up all together to stop from moaning your name.”

Your chest tightened at the mention of him being with other women. Jealousy is unpredictable, it can make people do unpredictable things. But sexual frustration is even more dangerous, bringing out the worst in people to live out some of their most taboo fantasies. Like now, it forced you to speak words you’d never dream of saying out loud. “They’re lucky.” Confusion spread across his face, eyebrows scrunching together as he steadied himself over you. “They had the chance to be beneath you.”

“And never stood a chance against you.”

“How would you know? You’ve never… had me like that.”

“Does it upset you? Me being with other girls?” The confusion was quickly replaced again with another grin. Minho pushed your legs apart with his knees, bringing one of his own to kneel just below your aching core. It was getting stickier with every second that he caged you in, if you weren’t breathing so hard you were sure you could smell your arousal seeping through the thin fabric. You could feel the heat from his bare thigh between your legs, fueling the idea of being able to ride it.

Hesitating, you nodded, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Minho let out a dark chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re so cute. You have no idea what you do to me— what you’ve been doing to me.” It was like he was taunting you, calling your nonexistent bluff. It wasn’t like you were hiding the dirty thoughts you had of him, the opportunity just never arose. Until now.

“What do I do to you?” you asked, suddenly growing curious and slightly confident. Minho’s eyes darkened as he watched you wiggle, getting antsier with the lack of touch.

“If I tell you, things won’t be the same.” He leaned back on one heel between your legs, the other propped up next to your hip.

“Tell me.” You said almost instantly. It felt like if you wasted another second without his touch, you’d burst from the inside out. A sudden adrenaline boost shot through you, bringing you to sit up and lean towards him. It took everything in you to resist the urge to kiss his lips as he let his tongue gently run over it. “I want you to tell me. Everything.”

A flame flickered behind his eyes, you could see it through the haze of lust. “I think about kissing you,” he slid forward, pushing off his heel to guide you back into the pillows. Minho brushed your hair from your neck, dipping his head to let his lips ever so slightly graze the sensitive skin your pulse lied under. The heat from his breath sent shivers down your spine. “I just wanna kiss you everywhere.” He paused before placing the softest kiss to your throat, another under your jaw, to your cheek, and stopped to hover over your lips, not letting himself get caught in the way he could so easily melt into you.

“Wanna touch you here,” you’d forgotten about his hands. Now they were unlocking your own from your shirt, intertwining and bringing them over your head. Fingers ghosted down your arms, over your shoulders and up until they traced your lips. “Here,” he gently made his way down your chest, grazing the tops of your breast with his mouth as his hands slipped beneath your shirt.

“Min—“ you were going to tell him to hurry up, but he lifted your shirt and brought it over your boobs. It didn’t register that you weren’t wearing a bra until his lips attached around your nipple, sucking harshly and biting at the nub. You let a moan escape, overwhelmed by the sudden stimulation. With a free hand, he tweaked the other nipple, eventually giving the same attention to both.

Removing your shirt all together, he brought his hand down to pull at the hem of your shorts. “And here,” snapping the elastic waistband, the sting instantly subsiding as he cupped your clothed mound. You were sure he could feel the wetness. Another whimper left your lips, closing your eyes and arching into his hand. He wasn’t moving, but the friction from someone other than yourself had you reeling.

“Please,” the plea was a pathetic attempt at more, though more of what you were unsure. Minho had hardly done anything and you were putty in his hands.

“Please what, sweetheart? I told you what I want. It’s your turn now.” Knowing where he stood, wanting you just as bad as you wanted him, you grabbed the hem of his shirt so that he could pull it off. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him shirtless— if he could, he’d never wear one.

But this was a different environment, a different tension surrounded the two of you now. Before he could completely strip his top, you were already reaching for his pants, bringing it down as much as you could without any awkward movements. He’d beat you to it though, pushing you back down into the bed and stripping himself of both his shorts and underwear. You followed him, but could only get your own shorts off before Minho stole your hands again and pinning them above your head once more. “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you. So, so much.” A grin plastered his face and let go of your arms to use one hand to strip you of the last item of clothing. Minho ran a single finger through your sopping folds, swirling and spreading your juices around to make a mess. Another moan ripped through you, the lack of touch for months finally catching up and making you hyper sensitive. It was just the tip of his finger, toying with your clit lightly as if to antagonize you. It dawned on you that after all that, he still hadn’t kissed you.

“Kiss.”

“Hm? What was that, sweetheart?” He pried his eyes away from your cunt long enough to catch your watery gaze. “Kiss. Please?”

He giggled, watching the way your lips pouted while he took his time to suck on the one finger that was coated in your essence. After letting it go with a pop, he cupped your jaw and finally crashed his lips to yours. It started soft, sensual as he let you set the initial pace. But hunger overtook him, licking along your bottom lip to ask for entrance. The kiss quickly became hungry and messy, spit and tongues traveling anywhere and everywhere. “Always knew you were a good kisser,” Minho breathed heavily, resting his forehead on yours as his hands trailed down your body again.

This time, he spread both of your legs, taking in a deep suck of air as he lifted them up from the underside of your thighs, exposing your core to him. “Smell so fucking good.” Licking his lips again, he dove in, licking and sucking in all the right places. Your nerves were on hyperdrive, fire igniting in your gut even more than it already was.

“F— fuck!” you cried out when his tongue circled your pulsing hole. He dipped the muscle in for a split second before licking back up to your clit, rubbing the tip of his tongue in figure eights. He dropped your thigh over his shoulder, using the free hand to slowly push a single digit into you. This drawed out another whine from you, gripping onto his hair and pulling his face deeper into you. You felt yourself already building up a dam, threatening to break at any second. Minho felt this, pumping the one finger a few times and quickly adding another to spread you wider. He scissored you open, lips suctioning to your clit like it was his lifeline. “More, n— need more.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He added a third, practically splitting you. Minho curled the three digits, shudders ripped through you like a tidal wave as he hit all the right spots. You were so close, walls fluttering and clenching incredibly hard. He could feel it, pulling back as soon as you were about to tip over the edge. “No! Fuck— why?!”

“Just because you made me wait so goddamn long.” Minho sat back, swiping some of your arousal to use as lubricant while he tugged his angry cock. It was the first time you’d looked at him, really gotten a good look. To say he was well endowed would be short of a compliment, you wondered if he’d be able to fit.

Your eyes raked up his body, “you’re so mean.” Tears wanted to fall again from the involuntary spasms in your muscles. It was painful, so blissfully torturous.

“Please, you don’t know how mean I could be.” You didn’t know what he meant by that, figuring you’ll work it out later. “But for now, I’ll be nice. Tell me what you want. Make it good, I won’t go so easy on you next time, sweetheart.” Your pussy throbbed at the idea of there being a next time with him.

As he continued to slowly drag his hand along his cock, your eyes drifted to his thighs, so thick and muscular. “Does baby want to ride my thighs?” The smirk in his voice didn’t cease. You nodded, sitting up on your elbows to really look at him. The feeling from your first denied orgasm hadn’t gone away completely, only fading slightly, aching still ever so present. Minho reached down, caressing your cheek and cooing at you. “So pretty when you’re needy.” You leaned into his touch, loving how small you felt below him. But the sweetness of the moment was gone too soon, he plopped next to you on the bed and spread his legs, hand not leaving his cock.

You didn’t need to be told what to do, immediately throwing a leg over him to straddle one thigh. Though you were hesitant to sit fully on him, unsure what to do even though it’s exactly what you asked for. “Does baby need help?” Minho teased, the nickname making your legs want to clamp together but his thigh stopped you. He tapped the insides of your legs to get you to spread wider, your clit coming in contact with his warm skin. The rush was instantaneous, already stimulating. With one hand, he gripped your hip and pushed you down onto him while the other kept stroking his length.

Tears still stinging your eyes, you experimentally pushed your hips forward, hoping for some much needed friction. It was heavenly, the flex and relaxation of his thigh giving so much texture to the animalistic movement you picked up upon realizing how wonderful it felt to ride him this way. Your eyes rolled back, hands running up your own body to tweak your breasts. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” Minho moaned, deep and lustful. He tugged his cock harder, leaving crescent shaped marks in your ass. As you picked up speed, he lifted his hand and brought it down hard to the side of your thigh. The pain shocked you for a moment, making you stutter, but it didn’t deter you. Another smack, it fueled your rutting against him. “Look at you, not an ounce of shame, hm? Probably not a single thought in your head except wanting to cum. Maybe I should make you stop—“

“No! No, please! N— need to cum.” Your hips sped up as much as you could, trying to reach your high before Minho could steal it from you again.

He slapped your thigh again, “stop.” You didn’t— you couldn’t. Not when it felt so sinfully good, watching Minho jerk off to you right before your eyes while he let you use his body for your own pleasure. “C—can’t. Can’t stop. Have to—“

“I said stop.” Minho brought his hand down the hardest he had all night. But instead of it being punishing, the slap helped you rut against him rough enough to bring you to your high. Your vision went white as you screwed your eyes shut, body stilling and legs clamping incredibly hard around his thigh at the euphoria that overtook you. He let you ride it out, thumb rubbing into your hip bone. When you opened your eyes again, he was still tugging at himself, only slower now. “Think I need to teach you a lesson. Bad girls don’t get to cum.”

As spent as you were from bringing yourself to the first good orgasm you’d had in months, the very present horniness of the man below you was enticing enough to keep going. “Teach me,” you breathed out, moving to straddle him completely.

Minho let go of himself, the same hand finding the back of your hair and yanking back to expose your neck. The sting on your scalp shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, forcing you down so your wet cunt met his searing hot cock to mix with the pain. You couldn’t help but slick up and down him, wanting more even though you were ridiculously overstimulated. Another moan tore through you, making yourself and Minho shiver with lust. Realizing what you were doing, he pulled you off his cock by your hair. “Nu-uh. I’ve given you enough, now you’re just taking advantage of my kindness, baby.”

“N— no, ‘m not. Want more, want you,” you choked out, heart practically beating out of your chest.

There was a moment he paused to watch you struggle to find pressure on your cunt, wriggling in his grasp. As much as he wanted to ruin you, make you cry and keep begging for him until you were covered in drool and cum, Minho himself was on the verge of his own release. He knew that with how long he’s wanted you, there was no way he’d be able to follow through with all the things he wanted to do to you. At least, not tonight. Smirking again, he flipped you onto your back by your hair, causing you to yelp.

“God, you’re so spoiled,” Minho grumbled, playfully irritated as he leaned down to kiss your neck and hook his arm under one leg. “You get to watch me walk around half naked, watch me work out, listen to me talk about all the fucks I’ve had and what do I get in return?” He sat up, lifting your leg higher to rest over his shoulder. Keeping the bottom of your thigh pressed firmly against his stomach, Minho shifted to straddle your thigh that rested on the bed and tease the tip of his cock with your pussy. “Are you even the littlest bit sorry, sweetheart? You’ve kept me waiting for forever and as soon as I get you, you act like a selfish brat.” Whimper after whimper escaped your lips, longing for him to kiss you with the mouth that spoke such dirty and degrading words.

Grabbing hold of the base of his dick, he pushed languid strokes through your folds as his eyes trained solely where your cunt and his cock met. You watched how the veins in his neck pulsed, how his chest rose and fell so heavily with need, the way his stomach tensed as he held back from pummeling you into the mattress. Part of you wanted him to lose his self restraint to the debauchery, but the sensible side of you remembered that your lack of sexual encounters for however long it’d been would cut the action short. “How badly do you want it, brat?” Minho spewed venom.

“Need it. More than anything. Need to feel you now,” you scooched down the bed as much as you could, looking for anything to calm the burning in your stomach. Minho chuckled, grabbing hold of your ass and flipping you more so that you laid almost completely on your side and had full access to your pussy. Your face flushed as he held eye contact with you, gathering a copious amount of saliva in his mouth just to let it drip slowly onto his cock and your cunt. Biting your lip, you spread your arms to grab onto something— anything. “Please, just fuck me.”

He hummed, “brats always get what the want in the end, don’t they?” Minho kissed the inside of your knee, tapping his heavy cock on your clit a few times before moving down to enter you. He went slow, the blunt cockhead penetrating your small and touch-deprived hole, the stretch stinging uncomfortable. Sensing your tension, he continued to push in shortly, only moving when your cunt relaxed slightly and you gave the okay. Though, your arousal cut the time for Minho to bottom out quickly, the base of his cock flushed against your mound. He let you adjust for a few moments before the primal urge to fuck got the best of him.

His hips pulled out and pushed back in slowly and shortly, keeping an iron grip on your leg with both of his hands. Sitting up straighter on his knees, Minho’s eyes rolled back at a particularly tight clench, one you purposely did because he looked all too comfortable. “F— fuck. No idea how long I’ve waited for this pussy to be mine.” His thrusts got harder, the sound of his balls slapping your skin echoing throughout the bedroom.

Feeling shy at his vulgarity, you moaned and lifted your arms to cover your face while simultaneously reaching to steady yourself on the headboard. However Minho was too quick and grabbed the hand closest to him, using your arm and thigh as leverage to pound into you harder. “You’re mine now, all mine. Gonna fill you up so good.” He turned his head and bit into your leg, tongue pressing flat against the mark soothingly.

“‘m yours, Minnie. ‘m yours,” the words came out between thrusts, voice bouncy as he continued his assault on your cunt. The nickname and exclamation of possession had Minho groaning, losing himself in your warm and slick walls. You were getting so close, reaching down to play with your clit while you both chased your highs. “Make me cum— need you to make me cum, Minnie, please.”

The whimper that escaped his lips caught him by surprise, almost making him lose rhythm. Minho swatted your hand away from your swollen nub to replace it with his own, circling and rubbing figure eights into it with just the right amount of pressure. His touch had your pussy fluttering around him, getting stronger with every passing second he swore he was going to explode. “So close, baby. Just a little more.” He pounded harder, slightly lifting your hips. The new angle was just enough that it hit the spot that made you drool, making you do exactly that.

You pleaded for him not to stop, to keep destroying you with his cock and fingers. Who was he to deny your requests when you asked so sweetly?

“So big, daddy. Fuck! Let me cum, please, let me cum!” It slipped from your lips before you could realize. If he didn’t have a daddy kink before, he sure as hell did now. It sounded so lewd, so dirty coming from your mouth that was usually so pure and right.

“Go ahead, brat. Cum.” You didn’t wait another moment, letting the coil in your stomach break as Minho stayed consistently hammering you through your orgasm. Your back arched, closing your walls around him so tightly that it just about pulled him to his own edge as well. Stuttering to a stop, Minho buried himself to the hilt inside you as your walls milked him for all he had. The pent up frustration of not having an adequate partner and his lust for you made him empty a thick and heavy load into your writhing cunt.

You both took a moment to catch your breath, Minho slowly dropping your leg to the bed and hunching over you. Your eyes were closed as you regained a steady breathing pattern, opening to see him already staring at you. He puckered his lips in the same fashion you did earlier, “kiss.” You couldn’t help but laugh and bring him down by his neck to give a sweet kiss. His cock twitched inside you as your lips melted into one another, it made you wince.

Minho broke away first, gently pulling out of you and running to grab a wet towel to clean you with. After the mess was dealt with— he didn’t let you move a muscle— he fell into bed beside you.

This is what felt normal, cuddling up with him and letting your breaths fall into sync. He liked being the little spoon sometimes, your chest against his back and one arm under his neck for support while your legs tangled together. You played with his hair, brushing it away from his face as you laid kisses atop of his messy head. "Do you have dirty thoughts about all your friends?"

The sudden question made your face heat up and lightly smack his arm. "No, just you." However the lack of clothes was new, incredibly more intimate now that you’d both admitted to wanting each other for so long. That was also the scary part. Luckily, Minho was always the braver of you two, and this was no match. “I meant it. I want you.”

“You just had me,” your words whispered.

“For more than a fuck. I want you.”

“Then have me.”

A/N: someone play 'dirty thoughts' by Chloe Adams cus that song goes hard.

Quick update on It Was Good Until It Wasn't; I'm finally back home from my trip and can keep working on it (I wrote this one on the plane ride home bless privacy screens). Hopefully I can find the time between job hunting and other life stuffs to sit down and get it done in a few days to the next week!

Shoot me some feedback or just to chat! My asks are always open :3

-momo < 3

#stray kids fanfic #lee minho smut #lee know smut #lee know angst #lee know fluff #lee know fanfic #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #skz fanfic #stray kids scenarios #skz smut #skz angst #skz fluff #skz scenarios #Spotify

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frostironfudge · 2 years

Text

I Really, Really Want To Kiss You - Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Personal Trainer!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Fem Reader, Modern AU.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swear words, making out, allusions to body dysmorphia, a male oc being mean to the reader based on her appearance, protective bucky, mutual pining, sam has the braincell, weight loss mentioned, some not so good thoughts about herself by the reader, bucky fell first its canon for this au.

Word Count: 2.6k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

A.N: i've been meaning to write personal trainer bucky for a while and i might make this multiple parts (maybe 1-2 parts more) but i'm not sure about it, let me know what you think! also if i expand then that may include smut.

masterlist // Ao3

Heartbeat thunderous in your ears. Breath borderline panting. Then you see him, your step falters. Your hands grab the handle bar trying to right yourself.

Bucky’s hand shoots out to stabilise you and press the stop button on the treadmill.

Your eyes shift from the man to Bucky. He frowns at you.

“Where is your focus?” He worriedly tuns his gaze over you.

“I’m okay…” You murmur, heat creeping to your cheeks.

“You sure? I know we’re trying interval running for the first time—,”

“Sir—Bucky,” you correct yourself before he can tell you off again, “I’m okay.” You press on, the heat of his palm against your lower back grounds you more than it should.

Blue eyes give you a once over, “Okay, how about we try again?”

He smiles when you nod, you will your heart and mind to focus. When Bucky got assigned as your personal trainer you wanted the ground to swallow you up.

He’s tall, beefy, with a charming smile and eyes so blue you would tie dumbbells to your feet to drown into, well maybe not that literally but controlling your feelings for him for the past three months had been difficult.

Every-time he smiled at you, your heart would stop, every repetition he demonstrated you swear your mouth watered with drool brimming past your lips. Then when he joked around and eased your nerves over the whole ordeal to loose weight that that is what set your heart soaring.

Bucky was sweet, encouraging, the praise for him just never stopped. Everyone at the gym adored him, even if you were mid session and anyone required help he’d look to you if it was okay. He’d jog over help them and return to you.

He taught you to look at your journey from the point of view of getting healthier for yourself. Reminding you that the scale is just a number.

Just like the age gap between the two of you, fourteen years who cares? You definitely don’t, not one damn bit.

“Ready?” His voice brings you back into the present. You nod.

“Alright, thirty second intervals, speed at 6.5, and we’ll start at a speed of 3 for thirty seconds then switch higher.” Bucky watches for any signs of confusion on your face, you give him nothing to worry about, he gives you his beaming smile.

Blame the heat on your cheeks on the workout.

Blame the heat on your cheeks on the work—

Then he passes by again, your gym crush, Bucky had been deemed by your best-friends as your Gym Love.

You watch through the mirror discreetly as the guy-gym crush-because you’re too anxious to even ask his name or approach him. Runs his hand through his hair and you panic when the floor beneath you moves.

Oh, you’re on the treadmill right. You begin taking the steps, Bucky adjusts the speed to three.

“What has you distracted? Is everything okay?” He questions and you will yourself not to look at gym crush but your damn eyes betray you because he’s deadlifting and you can hear him groan and why is the speed increasing?

Shit you will yourself to catch up. Bucky follows your gaze to the guy. Then he scoffs calculating the weight the guy is lifting.

“Not impressive.” He mutters, attention back at you, “Alright there, Doll?”

“Mmhmmm.” You’re on the verge of beginning to pant and he lowers the speed. That damned nickname sends your heart into over drive.

You slow down to a walk catching your breath.

“How was that?” You question trying to deflect.

“Good, you’re keeping focus.” Bucky murmurs, its stupid he knows being a little petty that you’re stealing glances of someone else.

“Sorry, I um,” you begin,

“No don’t apologise, Doll, ready for the next interval?” His eyes meet yours and god he just wants to lean over and kiss you senseless.

“Yeah, I am.” You grin at him, Bucky increases the speed again. Watching your feet to see if you need any pointers on foot posture and landing.

This goes on for another fifteen minutes before he gives you a break. When you get down from the treadmill you have to look up at Bucky again because he’s tall. So damned tall he towers over you. You’d be lying if you didn’t want him to lift you up and—, god why does working out turn your brain into a horny mess?

“Go sit down, drink water, I’ll be back in two minutes okay?” Bucky watches you nod at his words your breath still fast, chest rising and falling, he swallows quickly heading to the main desk where Sam is stationed.

You make your way to the bench grabbing your water. Involuntarily your eyes scan over the gym, trying to locate your crush.

Tugging at your t-shirt. To stop it from highlighting your rolls, you sit up straighter as he passes by, heading to the machines. You drink water, then look down at your shoes then towards the area.

Very fucking discreet, you tell yourself.

He pays you no mind, focused on his workout. Then he looks your way you look ahead, trying not to make it obvious being caught staring.

Bucky sighs, Sam shakes his head.

“Just tell her.” He taps the keyboard, switching playlists.

“She already has a crush on dudebro deadlifts double digits.” Bucky grimaces, its been three months being your personal trainer, he wanted more, much more.

Everything about you pulled him in, the way you smile whenever greeting any of the staff, to your jokes during the sessions. The way you would light up when you made progress in your strength.

God he remembers your scent lingering upon him after hours of you jumping into his arms when you broke your own deadlift personal record.

Your warmth engulfing him, your skin so soft and pretty he just wanted to sink his teeth and mark you as his own, he could even hear you saying his name over and over.

“Bucky.” Your palm on his hand brings him back into the present. His brows furrow. Thank god for the desk.

“Y-yeah Doll?” He clears his throat. Sam chortles covering it with a cough, Bucky throws him a glare, then gazes back at you.

“You alright? It was around ten minutes I got worried…” You bite your lip. Bucky’s gaze falls to them, his tongue peeks out wetting his own bottom lip.

Your eyes follow the movement, you swallow.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Sam threw paperwork on my head. I’ll walk in with you. You feel up for doing abs or have I worn you out?” He wiggles his brows.

You giggle, “It takes a lot more than an interval training to wear me out.”

“Are you challenging me, Doll?” His lips curve up into a smirk.

Your core pulses at the innuendos being exchanged.

“Maybe.” You shrug, looking away to breathe.

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head.

“Come on, three variations with two sets of twenty reps, I’ll go easy on ya.” He winks when you look back up at him.

“When have you ever gone easy on me?” You feign surprise.

“You’d know when I get rougher, Doll.” Bucky pipes back.

Sam coughs in warning. Bucky purses his lips, thinking of thoughts that should help rid of his hidden predicament.

Your fingers intertwine out of nervousness. Licking your lips, “I’ll wait in the studio?”

“Yeah be there in a second.” He promises as you trace the path back.

“Just ask her. You’re both practically eye fucking the other.” Sam waves a hand gesturing between Bucky and where you were standing.

“She’s not interested in me—,” Bucky’s brows furrow pondering over the conversation, “do you think?”

“Man go ask her out before I throw you in the morning shift.” Sam warns as Bucky finds his way to you.

You’re in the studio, sitting crossed legged on the floor. Fiddling with the corner of the mat.

“Hey.” Bucky smiles when you grin at him, “Hey.”

“So I was thinking I’d do the reps with you.” He moves to grab a mat for himself.

“Won’t that be too slow for you?” You blink up at him.

“Nope.” He sits on the mat, “Now, first classic crunch, ready?”

You nod getting into position as does he, “Ready and go.”

How Bucky is able to keep the counts and do the reps is beyond you.

He’s staying true to his word in tandem with your movements.

You have to will yourself to do the reps instead of watching him. The way his hair begins to fall on his forehead and without breaking his movement he shakes it away.

Beads of sweat line your forehead and you grunt laying back covering your face with your palms just as Bucky gives the last call for the rep. That last set took a lot of energy out of you.

“Hey Doll,” Bucky leans over, you move your hands to look up at him.

“Yeah Bucky?” breathing is still hard even more so with those azure eyes gazing down at you.

“You okay?” He checks in, gaze tracing over you.

You nod, “Just need to catch my breath—,”

The door to the studio slams open, Bucky looks up. You sit up, gym crush stands there looking at Bucky.

“Yes?” He questions the dudebro.

“You’re a trainer right? I need a spotter, the dude on the front desk is with a client showing the gym. You’re the only other free trainer.” He says, Bucky raises a brow looking towards you.

“I’m with a client.” He gestures with his palm.

You offer a smile, “Its okay…”

Bucky scoffs when the idiot doesn’t even thank you. Just gestures to the training area for him to follow.

“Mannerless.” He comments, you frown.

Bucky wants to roll his eyes, of course you wouldn’t like anything bad said about your whatever the idiot is to you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You ask hopeful, even though its your day for cardio having Bucky there makes it better cause he alway made funny faces through the mirror while passing by. You did the same to him just a little more discreet if he was with a client.

“Oh I have to go help a friend move so I might not be there when you usually come in… you can do your usually routine, elliptical, treadmill, cycling or jump rope’s cool too.” He helps you up not letting go of your hand even as you both are standing.

You like that, holding Bucky’s hand. He might not like it though so you look down and he blushes moving his hand away, if though he really didn’t want to do so.

“I’ll see you day after then?” You offer, he nods.

“See you, Doll.” Bucky smiles when he spots you smiling shyly at the nickname.

The next day at the gym you feel Bucky’s absence. Usually he’s smiling, greeting you or making a joke. Checking in upon your diet and how you’re doing mentally. He always made sure to know about your headspace.

You’re getting down from the treadmill making way to the water station. That is when gym crush walks in, you make eye contact while filling your bottle, in a moment of boldness. You offer him a smile.

He stares at you with his dark eyes, then his face morphs into a disgusted grimace. You look back to your water bottle, moving away rushing over to the locker room.

You can’t get his expression out of your head, the mirrors in the room turn sinister, you cover your face, heading into one of the stalls.

Resting your forehead against the door, trying to quiet your breathing and tears. Your weight didn’t please any man who held your romantic admirations, it was always a factor and despite the hard-work done these past few months it seemed as if this was to waste as well.

“Fuck.” You mutter, trying to find the positives over the past few months. Everything Bucky has done for you, taught you, you sniffle. It doesn’t work. Not even the mental footage of him doing dumbbell floor presses helps to distract your mind.

Wiping your eyes you grab your bag from the locker, heading out, not bothering to look at anyone.

As luck would have it you collide into someone, palms engulf your arms, steadying you. His cedar and patchouli scent surrounds you. Bucky.

“Doll.” Is all he says, you don’t look up at him.

You try to keep the sniffle down, but the stupid sound blubbers out. Immediately his calloused hands grasp your face, making you look up into his eyes.

“Who did this?” Bucky’s eyes scan over the gym floor.

His gaze settles on dudebro, his jaw clenches and eyes narrow.

“Bucky, no one—,” You attempt to defuse the situation.

“Don’t lie to me, Doll.” He warns, one hand leaves your cheek, wrapping around your wrist, he pulls you into the private office.

“You’re going to tell me the truth.” Bucky demands.

“There isn’t anything to say—,”

“That’s it.” He moves without warning, grasping your hips and you’re lifted up, and settled onto the desk, your legs parted to have him stand between them chest to chest.

You’re out of breath without having moved a muscle.

“Bucky?” Is all you can muster out, he grasps your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head back only slightly.

“Doll, you’re crying and its not the happy tears I’ve seen you shed and wiped away. Now please, please tell me what happened.” He requests, all the earlier range he harboured gone but not forgotten.

“I,” Your chest tightens and your eyes close, as though it would erase it all away.

“Take your time, Doll.” He encourages, thumb tracing over your jaw.

You gaze into his eyes, the warm comfort in them beckoning you close, “You might think it’s stupid.” you warn.

“Try me.” He shrugs, giving a soft smile.

You swallow and then spill the entirety of the event.

“He grimaced at you?” Bucky confirms, you nod.

“I’m going to kill him.” He begins to pull away and you instinctively wrap your legs around him to stop him.

“Doll—,”

“I’m so sorry—,”

“No fuck, I’ve thought of this so many times…” Bucky trails off.

“You, you have?” Your eyes widen, as he nods again.

“You don’t know what you’ve done to me, all I can think about is you. Every sense of mine attitude to you.” He rests his forehead against yours, you close your eyes.

“I’ve thought about you too.” Your quiet admission has him smile.

“What have you thought about?” His curiosity getting the better of him.

“How your arms feel around him, how would it be to see you outside of here… to, to have you lift me up like—,” You squeal when he lifts you again, your legs wrapped around his waist, hands on his shoulders, Bucky grins mischievously.

You’re pressed against the wall and him.

“Like this?” He questions, breathless, eyes shifting between your lips and gaze.

“Yes.” the words a breathless whisper.

“Doll I really, really want to kiss you.” He admits, you raise your palm to cup his cheek, shifting your head towards him.

Bucky’s breath fans across your face, his lips are slightly chapped but soft, warm and oh so sinful. The kiss is bruising, he completely dominates and you allow him to, his tongue exploring your mouth and he sucks upon your bottom lip.

You tug on his lip as he pulls away, Bucky audibly groans.

“You’re so beautiful, so magnificent. And you taste so addicting.” Bucky rests his forehead against yours again, this time both of you stare into each other’s eyes.

You can’t keep the grin off of your face nor can he, “So does this mean I can take you out to dinner?” He requests.

“Yeah, yeah you can.” You answer smiling, his lips meet yours again.

permanent bucky tag: @slutforsexyseabass

permanent tags: @stevesmewmew @pandaxnienke

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freemansgirl · 9 months

Text

jock!amber x cheerleader! reader sfw & nsfw hcs

a/n: been seeing jock!amber content and wanted to join in so heres my thoughts on it 💁🏿‍♀️ hcs are likely to change and update

SFW

*she first saw you when you were at the gym doing a cheerleading routine, you looked wayyy too good and she just wanted you right then and there.

* her teammates even encouraged her to go up to you and ask you out, which she in fact did.

*you guys are such a power couple

* stops by to watch you at cheerleading practice (even brings you water or snacks from vending machine to refresh you! you do the same when you watch her at her practices

* loves helping you practice your routines outside of cheerleading practice at school. she pays just enough attention to make sure to let you know if you messed a step or did something wrong.

* she loves it when you make up cheerleading chants and dances for her.

* she quite literally is your biggest fan at games. she will be the loudest person from the bleachers (when shes off the field) cheering for you just so youre the one that people focus on and not others. people definitely have looked at her weirdly because of how loud she is. “the hell you all looking at? i’m cheering for my girl, mind your business.”

* if she hears any of her fellow teammates gossiping about you (especially sexually) in the locker room, she always shoots them a glare to shut them up. “what was said about (your name)?” “nothing.” “that’s what i thought.”

* always lets you wear her jersey or jacket

* likes taking you out to the gym, especially because she gets to show off how fit, her strength, and how muscular she is. she lets you touch on her muscles. (she’s quite the showoff lol)

* i imagine her also being the type if she saw someone try to ask you out to prom, she’d be so pissed. i dont think she’d be the type to do prom honestly BUT she’d only take you to prom just piss off people and show that your hers. she doesn’t want anyone to take you out unless it’s her!

*likes to walk you to class ofc!! after school after your cheerleading practice (or in general) she likes to pick you up

NSFW

* ok for starters, she definitely has a skirt kink, she can’t help but eye the sneak peak of your ass bc of how short the skirt is

* loves when you give her a private show/lapdance in your cheerleader uniform, she thinks it’s so sexy 😫

*she gets turned on when watching you do strip teasing

* definitely has fucked you in the locker rooms when no one is around

* likes fucking you when you’re wearing her jersey or with your cheerleader skirt on

* has made jokes about how your boobs look good when they bounce when you run around the gym or on a treadmill. also checks out your ass when you do squats (and in general bc she loves ur exercise clothes)

* shower sex after the gym is a must

#amber freeman #amber freman x reader headcanons #amber freeman x reader #scream 5 #scream x reader #scream x reader headcanons #q’d 🖤

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 18 days

Note

candlelight 🕯️

hii it’s me again! congratulations on 1k!! i’ve thinking about this recently (a lot) because im seriously in my miguel ohara kick🥰

but can you do shy & nerdy reader with popular miguel who are dating?? he adores making her flustered and how shy she is.

he makes her ask for his help because he knows how badly she needs him? because she’s just so stressed out about school and stuff? as always if you’re not comfortable writing totally ignore this! this is my first time requesting smut so i don’t know if it’s silly or not! but if you write it i know you’ll do good by it bc ur such an amazing writer😌

-🎀

hiiii, thank you so much!! and thank you for requesting! ahhh, i'm so thrilled you asked for miguel; i was dying to write him and probably will more, especially if people want; i hope you like it! i hope i got enough of the request in here

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader word count: 2.2k notes: modern au, established relationship, fluff, smut (i'm going to keep with marking where it gets smutty, though, bc it's like a full fluff fic before any smut, for those who only want the fluff; MDNI!) part of my 1k celebration!

for anyone who doesn’t speak spanish, i don't want translations to be annoying in the middle or for you to have to scroll to the end, so thought putting them here was best: mi amor / amor mío: my love / literally something like love of mine but works more like emphasis cariño: term of endearment kind of like dear, literally affection mami: another term of endearment, more often cheeky or sexier descansa: rest dime: tell me que maravilla: a joke from the movie, literally what a marvel / wonder, kind of like how wonderful or even just amazing hope i didn't miss any others

The phone buzzing beside you startles you almost completely out of your chair. Coffee makes you jumpy. An entire pot in one night makes you… suspect what you’d be like on cocaine. You��d thought you’d put it on silent. No phone till at least one paper is done, you’d told yourself. Finals had you reeling, and you were desperate to make some progress. When you grab your phone, you see a text from Miguel:

You take your headphones off, and sure enough, a moment later hear a knock at the door. You open it to a Miguel in loose sweatpants and hoodie, dark hair messy, gym bag slung over one shoulder. Even these clothes could do nothing to hide the impressive broadness of his shoulders.

“Hey, baby,” he says through a bright smile. He kisses your cheek and steps into the apartment. “I know you were trying to focus, but I was getting worried.” “Sorry, I had my headphones on; the neighbors were being too loud again, and I really needed to focus.” “No, not the waiting at your door, mi amor. I’m talking about all of… this,” he gestures wildly around the apartment then his gaze lands on you. “Those dishes were there when I was here days ago, and even though I’m pretty sure adding anything to that tower would topple it, you haven’t. When’s the last time you ate?” “I ha—“ you begin to retort, but he cuts you off. “And I mean real food.” You start again but just give up and shrug. “And you.” He steps close to you and frames your face with his hands. You lean into his touch as he caresses your face. “Baby, you know I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, right?” You blush and look down immediately.

It used to be worse, before you got together. When you were confused about his even noticing you, and instead he’d flirted with you. Even now that he was your boyfriend, it took very little from him to fluster you.

He can’t help but chuckle at your reaction. He always does.

“Don’t you? My gorgeous,” he kisses one warm cheek, “gorgeous,” he kisses the other, “girl,” he gives your nose a concluding peck.

You nod shyly. “C’mon, cariño. Tell me,” he encourages, his tone still teasing but ever adoring. “I want to hear it." “I know you think I’m pretty,” you whisper. “Pretty? No, amor mío, I think flowers and bright colors are pretty; the ocean or a view of the mountains, too. But you, you are beauty personified.” “Miguel, stop,” you whisper through the smile you can’t help, hiding your face in his chest. He laughs lightly. His hand comes to your hair and scratches lovingly.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew that.” He gives your forehead a kiss. “Before I told you you look terrible, baby.” He starts laughing loudly and holds you closer into his hug when you smack his chest and try to pull away.

“That’s so mean!” gets muffled into his sweatshirt. “It’s not mean; it’s true. You’re still beautiful, but you need a break.” “I can’t, Miguel. I’m drowning in work still, and you know being sick last week really got me behind, and it feels like no matter how long I sit there, I’m no closer to finishing anything, and you’re right my apartment is falling apart, but every time I do something else I feel guilty for stalling on work, and, and —“

Before you can find another overwhelming thing to list, Miguel is hushing you and stroking your back in his warm embrace.

“Breathe, baby, breathe.” He sways you lightly then pulls back a bit to look into your eyes. His hands are caressing your face again, and his fingers brush lightly under your eyes, where you know there are dark circles, as he whispers, “You haven’t slept.” He sound sad rather than accusatory.

“Okay,” he starts softly. “Look, I know how much you have on your plate, and I’m not telling you you’re wrong to be stressed. I get it. But you can’t get it done like this, running on fumes and caffeine. How about this? I’m going to help you relax tonight, you’re going to forget about everything you have to do, you’re going to sleep well, and then tomorrow morning you’ll get back to it all.” “I’m fine, really. You don’t need to worry about me. And I’ll rest after finals.” Just then a car horn blares near your window, making you jump cartoonishly. “Yeah, you seem totally fine,” Miguel deadpans teasingly. “There’s nothing wrong with taking some time, Y/N… And accepting a little a help, okay?”

You nod lightly. “Great,” he gives you a quick peck and moves toward your kitchen, hunting around your barren fridge and cabinets. “Here’s the game plan then. You are going to put on your favorite playlist then go take a warm shower for as long as you like. Your kitchen is as empty as your stomach, so I am going to run down the street to pick up some empanadas then I’ll work on cleaning up this war zone a little bit when I get back.”

“You don’t have to clean.” “Stop fighting me,” he tsks. “Besides you know I don’t mind cleaning. I’m glad I’m not hearing complaints about the food at least,” he laughs. “I love empanadas,” you whisper defeatedly. He cackles. “Who doesn’t?” He kisses you as he moves past you toward the door. “Be back soon. No working! I expect you in the shower when I get back.” You quirk an eyebrow teasingly at him. You were still too shy to say anything teasing, but he’d been working you out of your shell during your time together. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t really like that aspect of being with Miguel.

His eyebrows mimic yours, and he chuckles lowly. “Don’t give me that look, mami, or you’re not getting me out the door, and you’ll miss out on the empanadas.”

You pull the neck of your shirt up to cover your face, making him laugh. You hear him bound back over to you from the door. He pulls your shirt back down, gives you a short but intense kiss, then heads out.

Miguel is back before you know it. You are in fact in the shower when you hear him return. You’re already rinsing, but you linger a little longer, enjoying the feeling of the warm water easing the stresses off your tense body.

When you leave your room to join him again, you’re immediately hit with the delicious smell of food. You see it resting on the counter and find Miguel washing your dishes.

You come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his firm torso, resting your head on his back. “Hola, cariño,” he coos. “I’m almost done.” You nod into him, humming.

When he finishes up, he turns in your arms, bringing his own large ones around you. He leans down and kisses you softly. “Hungry?”

You nod enthusiastically, and he chuckles.

You opt to eat on the sofa, getting comfy. Miguel does most of the talking. Between how tired and how hungry you are, you don’t have the energy or available mouth to talk much. He doesn’t seem to mind, happy to regale you with his silly stories.

When you finish, Miguel cleans up, holding you down and giving you a faux menacing look when you try to get up to help.

When he comes back, he settles much closer to you than he had been before. You relish his warmth, physical and emotional, and lean into him.

“Turn around,” he whispers.

“Hm?” “Like this.” He adjusts your body so you’re facing away from him and starts massaging your shoulders. You hadn’t realized just how tense you were until the amazing feeling of its being relieved somewhat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NSFW beyond this point ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Miguel,” you exhale approvingly, earning a chuckle.

“I like it when you say my name like that.” He leans in and whispers into your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck deliciously, “Reminds me of other times you end up whining my name.”

It’s shocking how quickly he works you up. You turn to look at him, and when you do, his expression shifts from teasing to intrigued.

“Oh?” he asks. He smirks. “I know that look.” He leans in and kisses your neck sloppily, and you whimper. You’re embarrassed at the sound, but he seems to like it. You feel him smile against the skin under your jaw. “I’m more than happy to give you what you want, but I need to know what that is to give it to you.” His voice is much lower but just as mischievous.

“Miguel,” you complain. “Dime, mi amor.”

“I —“ Any other words get caught in your throat. Your throat he’s busy sucking on.

“Please, baby. C’mon, I know you can. Tell me what you want.” He runs his teeth along your neck like he knows you like. You often joke he feels like he has fangs when he does. “I want you,” you tell him.

“Yeah?” “Mhm…”

“I’m yours, mami. How do you want me?”

“I want you to make me feel good.” “Oh, I’ll make you feel good. I’ll make you feel so, so good.” He punctuates his words with kisses, working his way up your neck, your jaw, your mouth. “Tell me how,” he whispers, and you feel his lips grazing yours with each word.

You want to relax, and you know exactly what relaxes you the most. “I want you to eat me out.”

His eyebrows jump in surprise. Such directness was unlike you. Your exhaustion was probably weakening your filter, and the way he was already making you feel certainly wasn’t helping it. You almost get shy about it, but when you see just how dark his eyes have gotten, see his Adam’s apple bob and his bottom lip come between his teeth, you keep yourself from shrinking away. He nods slowly, staring deeply into your eyes, then kisses you hard. “Get naked,” he says gruffly.

Already starting to do as he says, you weakly whisper, “You too?” He chuckles lightly but obliges quickly.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing him like this. He’s so beautiful. His broad chest and toned abs; his caramel skin and dark hair.

You look back at his face and find he’s noticed you staring at his body. He’s so confident, you think he’s going to tease you about it. Instead, with an adoring smile, he tells you, “That’s how I feel when I see you, too.” You lean up and kiss him, pouring all the emotions you can’t articulate in words into it.

Without disconnecting your lips, his body guides yours back down until you’re completely prone. He keeps kissing you until you’re breathless, lovingly attends to your neck and down your chest. He lingers there, his tongue making you arch your back, pushing your body up into the sensations he’s delivering. He sucks harder at your visceral reaction then hotly finishes his path down, his face now aligned between your thighs.

He looks at you intently and whispers, “Que maravilla.”

He looks up at you, eyes black storms you lose yourself in as his mouth connects with your body.

From your delightful vantage point, you watch his muscular shoulders contort as he moves to pleasure you. He looks like he’s thoroughly enjoying it, and seeing him so into it gives you confidence. You start subtly moving your hips in rhythm with his motions. His hands tighten where they hold your thighs, and, mortified, you interpret this as his telling you to stay still, so you do.

Then Miguel shakes his head hard — the vibrations of which shoot shocking pleasure into you — and he pants, “Keep doing that. Show me how you want it.” His strong grip pushes and pulls you in a movement close to what you were just doing. You take over and move faster. He’s nodding now, and the shake of it has your thighs shaking on either side of his head.

You’re making loud whimpering sounds when you yell, “Mi — ahh — Migueeell.” He doubles his efforts, picking up his pace and pressing hard against you. You come on his face, and he looks feral as he eats you through it. When you’re done, he licks up your entire slit before shuffling his body back over yours. You’re chest to chest, and his hand comes up to stroke your head. “Good?��

Your cheeks warm, and you nod shyly. He giggles and gives you a peck. “You’re adorable, mi amor.”

Your legs feel delightfully like jelly as you move them, wrapping them around his waist. He hums approvingly and gives one thigh a tight squeeze, pulling it impossibly closer to his body. He begins stroking it as he kisses you lazily. Your hands entwine in his thick hair, stroke his strong back, hold him close.

When he shifts his weight slightly on top of you, you notice his hardness against your body.

“You want me to…” you whisper, thrusting your hips up into his in place of words.

“Uh-uh, maybe in a little bit, baby, but for right now, I just want you to relax.”

He continues kisses you languidly, enveloping you in his body heat, and as you close your eyes and melt into the sensations, you’re sure you’re going to have no trouble sleeping soundly tonight.

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #1k celebration #ria1k

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1025flora · 4 months

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pinky promise

< prev - masterlist - next >

FIVE : he's not a boy anymore

extra warnings: definitely not proofread

i got a new app for my twitter parts so if it feels different that's cause it is !!

you dreaded today’s dance practice. on literally any other day, you would be excited and full of anticipation. but today was extremely different due to the glaring fact that hwang hyunjin was your dance partner… for the whole entire school year.

you tried to distract yourself from it and pretend it was just a normal wednesday, a normal dance practice. you’ll go into the studio, you’ll stretch and chat with yeji and chaeryeong, you’ll practice your combos and go home. simple, easy!

you lugged your duffle bag and sleepy self into the fluorescent-lit dance studio, attempting to ignore the pit in your stomach.

“y/n! you made it.” said a bare-faced chaeryeong, walking towards you with a warm smile. “hi chaery. and, barely.” you said, laughing softly. the cherry-headed girl nodded at you, “i know it. let’s stretch together, cool off before we get going.” she took your hand and the two of you traveled across the squeaky vinyl floor.

minutes passed, but it felt like hours. you felt yourself zone out, nothing on your mind at all. the sound of minho’s hands clapping together snapped you out of your head. “okay, team. get together with your pairs and make small talk, because i know some of you aren’t completely comfortable yet.” the brunette man and your eyes met. you glared into them. he gave you a half smile and shrugged.

you sighed, it was time to get over it and face your fears.

before you could even grab your bag, hyunjin was already in front of you. “hey, y/n.”

it’s been five years since you’ve really looked at this boy. well, he’s not a boy anymore. he grew a lot. when he originally left, he was only a couple inches taller than you. but as he stands before you today, you have to raise your head just to meet his eyes. his hair grew a lot, too. to below his ears. his body was different, too. you could tell he’s started going to the gym since he left. he looked very, very good. it almost made you forget your grievances with him. but, nonetheless, you snapped out of your trance and gave him a half-genuine half-annoyed smile. “hi, hyunjin.” you two sat in a painfully awkward silence for almost a whole minute before you broke it, “look, let’s focus on dance right now. we can talk about our personal problems some time later, okay?” hyunjin smiled at that.

he discussed his ideas for a duo choreography and you shared yours. turns out, the two of you have very similar music taste and visions. huh.

a/n i kinda snapped w this one idk..... hope yall liek it

taglist: @miryofshampoo @katsukis1wife @realrintaro @amesification @minhwa @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @hyunightt @rockstrhanji@kkamismom12 @tiapatito202278ok @skzstaykatsy

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dreampurpledreams · 10 months

Text

𝘽𝙖𝙠𝙪𝙜𝙤𝙪 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝘼 𝙂𝙮𝙢 𝘾𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝

Synopsis: Self-explanatory.

Warnings: Bakugou is completely and utterly smitten with you, as he should be🥴. Light cursing. one mention of the N-word. I'm black do not worry

A/N: Send in requests please. I literally have nothing else to do.

1.5k words below the cut

MHA M.List Main M.List Navi

- Doesn't notice you at first

- probably heard about you from Kirishima

-"Bro, did you see the new girl in the gym?"

-"Idc about some girl, moron."

-"But she's so hot tho, and-"

-"So what?? I'm not gonna let some pretty face distract me, I'm only here to do one thing, and that doesn't include girls"

-Kirishima gives up on talking about you

-Everyone else talks about you too, though

-annoys him, now he doesn't want to meet you just to prove he's better than everyone else

- goes to the gym one morning and sees everyone huddled up

-they're all in his way

- "Move out of my way before I light all your asses up, the gym isn't a place to socialize bastards"

- everyone disperses to reveal you: repping out 45s on back squat

- and he really can't help if his eyes gravitate to that fat-

- "thank you for that" you had racked the bar and you were looking at him through the mirror

- realizes he was caught staring, and is low-key embarrassed

-so you know how this boi handles that

- He walks right past you without acknowledging you, as if you don't exist

- after that he starts to notice you everywhere.

- he's getting dumbbells, you are too

- He's getting on the treadmills, the only open spot is one next to you

-starts getting distracted, and it pisses him off, so he starts coming late at night instead of early in the morning

- lord you have ruined this whole Bois schedule

- low and behold, he comes to the gym, 11 o'clock, and sees only one other person. What are the odds it's you

- decides to just ignore you and proceeds with his workout

Bakugou was gradually getting pissed off. How dare you interrupt his workout. Coming to the gym at the same time as him, looking all good and-.

"Get it together Bakugou."

He turned up his music, turned up the speed on the treadmill. Trying to distract himself. He looked over at you, you were racking up your weights, just finishing your squat. Something was kind of…attractive…, about seeing you obliterate those weights the way you did. How you pushed yourself, even on the days it was obvious you didn't want to work. The shape of your butt when you went down. He wanted to be behind you, his hands on your waist, guiding your body as you bent your knees, and allowed the weight to crush you, Catching it with your legs. You could probably crush him with those...thighs.

No,

"Focus Bakugou, she's not even that cute".

Oh but you were. With that body, cut and toned , as if you lived in the gym. How could your waist be snatched like that while your as-. And your hair, so intricately designed. It looked as if it took hours. He knew it did. He would never admit it but, he looked it up when he got home one night. Intrigued. Not wanting to actually acknowledge the fact he was thinking about you. Not just in the gym but everywhere.

Like how when he saw Mina, it reminded him of a picture you posted on your Instagram(that he didn't follow,but constantly looked at) . Your hair was all out, fluffed and it looked so soft he wanted to reach through the screen and touch it. You had captioned it, "Wash day✨🙈". Or the time he was shopping, and saw that brown shirt that perfectly matched the shade of your skin. He only bought it because he liked it, the decision had nothing to do with you.

Turning up the speed for the third time, Bakugou ran. Hard. Maybe he could outrun these thoughts he kept having. This longing to reach out. Get to know you. He didn't need any distractions. But damn, did you make him want to break all his rules. Maybe just this one time..

"Hi, ___________________ bench?" Bakugou was so enraptured in his thoughts, he didn't see you walk up to him. Didn't feel you tap him. And he definitely didn't hear what you just said.

"Huh?", he responded, removing his earbud from his ear.

"Sorry, I'm [Name], and I was wondering if when you're finished with that, would you spot me on bench?"

Your voice was just as angelic as you looked. And It made his heart flutter, or could that have been your lips. Full and brown, with a pink shade towards the center. And it could have easily been the way you looked up at him, with those eyes. Looking into his, unafraid and filled with question.

But what effected him the most, was the anger in your eyes when he responded with a curt,

"No"

,and continued running, as if you weren't there. The drop in his stomach. And what scared him , was the way he wanted to apologize, say sorry, take it all back, just to see you smile at him again. And not the smile you were giving him right now, that was so obviously fake as you said

"Okay that's fine :)"

,and walked off.

"Idiot", Bakugou muttered to himself. Oh well, he really didn't need any distractions. He put his headphones back on and attempted to run for a couple more minutes. Still thinking about you, and the interaction from earlier, Bakugou just decided to call it quits, and Try again tomorrow.

As Bakugou gathered his things, he heard small, breathy noises. Almost as if… someone was.. crying. Bakugou whipped around and there you were, lying on your back, trying to stop the weight of the bar from crushing your chest. Bakugou ran over to you and quickly helped you rack the bar. Jesus, was it heavy. "Thanks, that bar almost took me out", you joked. You thought this was funny? What kinda psychotic-. As you sat up, trying to catch your breath, Bakugou let you have it.

"ARE YOU AN IDIOT. YOU MUST HAVE A DEATH WISH??. YOU DUMBASS. YOU CANT LIFT THAT !!YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY ALMOST DYING, MORONS LIKE YOU DON'T DESERVE TO BE IN THE GYM."

"Excuse me".

Bakugou watched as your demeanor shifted from relaxed to furious all in a matter of seconds. You stood up. Looked him in his eye. And got right up in his face.

"First of all, I asked you for help, and you said no. What you thought I wasn't going to work out just because you wanted to be an asshole?. Naw Nigga I don't need you. And second of all, I don't know who you think you are, but you must have lost your ever-lovin' mind if you think you're gonna talk to me just any kinda way. Boy you are outchyo tree. So you better fix it before I fix it for you."

Bakugou just stared.

"Jeez, got me in here acting a fool." Bakugou stood there for a minute. Trying to process the fact that you had just talked to him the way you did. He was shocked. And kind of turned on. Bakugou Laughed.

"I don't see what's funny."

He watched as you pouted, clearly not angry anymore. He found it cute how quickly you could change moods. And it only intensified his desire to get to know you. Before he could lose his nerve, Bakugou snatched your phone.(a/n: lemme tell you, 'ass. whoopin.)

"Boy, gimme my stuff back"

"Hold on, I'm doin' somethin'."

You rolled your eyes at him. "Okay don't nothin take that long, gimme my stuff back now."

"Calm down woman, here".

Bakugou watched your face, looking for signs of rejection or disgust, as you looked at "Bakugou 😏" typed into your phone along with his number. "I didn't ask you for this" you said, but the smirk on your face revealed to him your joking nature. "You didn't have to, you obviously need a workout partner, and since you've been following me around like a fan girl, I decided to do you a favor. If you're going to insist on being a stalker you might as well do it with my permission", Bakugou said, smirking back at you. "Boy ain't nobody following you, I came here tonight because you always have your eyes on me, tracking my every move." Bakugou flushed red.

"What you thought I didn't notice??Boy you ain't it as slick as you think you are" you told him, and there was the sexy ass smirk again.

"Whatever, text me or don't, your choice" the blonde hair boy said, walking away.

Walking back to the dorms Bakugou was a little disheartened, as to how you didn't say anything back to him on the way out. "Well" he thought to himself "I don't need any distractions anyway". But he sure forgot that when he heard the ping is his pocket, and opened up his phone to see a message from an unknown number.

(___)___ ____

12:47am

Working out this late ain't it, maybe day after tomorrow we can go early, like usual

You

12:47am

6:00am

Don't be late

Gym Hottie🙄

12:48am

Okay, I'll be there

MHA M.List Main M.List Navi Requests are Open!!!

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lover-of-mine · 8 months

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Hi, hi, hello, I am here once again to sound absolutely insane while arguing something buddie, this time from Buck's side because I haven't done one on him in a while. I think this is a Buck needs to choose defense, but who knows really ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Okay, I've talked about this before, but Oliver is a really big guy, he's taller than the rest of the cast so we don't see Buck looking up a whole lot. In conversations where Buck would be in a more vulnerable position, they put all of the involved sitting down so they are on the same eye level, when he tells Abby about the catfish guy, when he talks to Maddie after the bombing, when he talks to Maddie after Red dies, when he finds out about Daniel, when he talks to Maddie after the thing with Jonah, when he talks to Bobby after the lightning.

Or they're both standing up, when he talks to Bobby before he quits before the tsunami, when he talks to Bobby after the lawsuit, when he tells Bobby he is one of the most important people in his life, when he tells Eddie about the fight with his parents, when he talks to Bobby after the crane, when he’s helping Eddie fix the walls (as I was typing this I noticed the trend of having him sitting down with Maddie and standing up with Bobby, which makes sense considering how much shorter than Oliver Jennifer is and how Oliver and Peter are just a few inches apart).

Or they have Buck being the only one standing up, or just at a higher level, so that he has the high ground in sense, when he tells the 118 about the thing with Daniel, when he yells at his parents, when he talks to Maddie after he messes up with Red, when he breaks up with Taylor, but it is a trend to not have him look up at people. (All of these have more examples, I just didn't feel like screenshotting every major Buck scene lol)

People he does look up to in vulnerable moments, moments actually end up leading to a fight? Ali and Taylor. He looks up at Ali when she's talking about not understanding what the job means and when he tells Taylor he kissed someone else. So he looks up at his love interests. Before a fight, but still looking up. Ali is the most intense example I could find in my quick skimming of the scenes I could think of, but since Taylor is standing up and he's sitting down, it counts.

This does nothing for my point but I do want to point it out. He looks up at Eddie before the confrontation at the gym lol. Sure that ends with Buck towering over Eddie, but it starts with him looking up at him and fits the trend (or actually starts it? Considering this happens before Ali or Taylor lol).

I could be wrong here, maybe there are other moments where he's looking up and I just can't think of them right now, but Eddie is pretty much the only person he consistently looks up to, when he clears with Bobby for Chris to stay at the station (not about him but he's looking up), the Hildy incident (this one is just funny but it happens), when he tells Eddie it would’ve been better if he had been shot, after Chim leaves to look for Maddie, after he dies. And it's interesting to have those last two scenes because he's going to Eddie for advice and they decided to literally have him look up at Eddie.

Conversations with Eddie fit all types of categories when it comes to the two of them because they are best friends, just focus on these ones tho (you can read this for thoughts on framing in multiple scenes tho)

"But Anna you've said this before in at least 3 different posts already" I know, I know, and I have a point, I promise.

I like taking season 6 knowledge and recontextualizing the previous seasons. What does Buck want in season 6? Answers. From the dude at the happiness convention to “I’m the guy with the answers, I kinda like that”. But it’s not crazy to say that Buck has been looking for whatever this answer is his whole life, but the main thing is that Buck keeps looking for answers outside of what he already has, the choice he makes is to look for something else to make things make sense and for someone else to tell him so he can pretend he's not responsible for the consequences. There’s a whole other discussion here and I was talking about this yesterday, but Buck doesn’t really make choices in his life (bisexual king 🫶), he fell into firefighting, he tripped into every relationship he had, he didn’t pick his apartment, he still hasn’t picked a couch.

Okay, but why does that relate to the whole looking-up thing? I don’t know if this makes sense, but I think in a way he expects Eddie to have the answers in a way that’s a bit, not excessive, but like, bordering on too much? Like, for example, the way he takes what Eddie tells him before the tsunami and runs with it, the whole just move on thing that he is still doing (I’m kinda fascinated about the way that the end of the cemetery conversation gives the same message that Eddie tried to push onto him there and we all know how that ended for Eddie), the whole “somehow we manage to just suck it up, why can’t you?” and “a lot of I’s in there” and “you’re making it about you? again?” that does make Buck act as if having feelings about traumatic events means he’s making it about himself, makes him selfish, that makes him act as if he needs just to push through. He keeps following Eddie’s lead at all times. And I think that is something that needs to be addressed in some way before they can have a relationship. I do think post-lawsuit Eddie is trying, post-therapy Eddie is trying even harder to not lead them wrong or dismiss Buck’s feelings, and if Eddie asked Buck out, chances are he would say yes, but it would leave the question of whether he’s just following Eddie’s lead. Because Buck keeps tripping into relationships. We don't see him ask anyone out, we don't see Buck make the decision. The only way to fight this is to have Buck be the one to march to Eddie and go “I want this, do you want me?” and hope he’s doing the right thing while knowing he is the one who went for it.

And like, I don’t really think Eddie would ask Buck, not for lack of wanting, but because he runs from fights he’s not sure he can win, dude retreats back to safety like no one else, and taking a leap with Buck is not safe. But, hey, we’re supposed to believe Buck is the one who keeps running into unsafe situations, so sure, have Buck do it.

And I think the cemetery can be used as a start for that, because Buck keeps trying to get Eddie to tell him what to do, he keeps looking at Eddie and waiting for him to just give him the answers, but Eddie already retreated from the fight, he’s all “whatever you say, bud” so Buck thinks he’s doing something Eddie agrees on, but what Eddie wants is the opposite, the shift in the way Eddie is handling that conversation is really obvious and to have Buck go against it could be used in an interesting way.

And the cemetery scene itself opposes the whole looking-up thing because Eddie refuses to keep looking at Buck while Buck keeps poking him to get him to look. Buck is all “*tugging on his sleeve* tell me I'm right tell me I'm right tell me I’m right” and Eddie is all “you’re right buddy *narrators voice* he doesn’t think he’s right at all”.

And Eddie is locked out of making changes in the relationship in a sense, because Buck basically told him “this woman is the one” so why would he risk the friendship when Buck has made it clear what he wants? In Eddie's head, it's a fight that's already lost, so why would he jeopardize the part of the relationship he does have for something he thinks is hopeless?

But Buck doesn’t have that, I think right now, the power is in Buck’s hands, Buck needs to realize he has it and Buck needs to make the choice to use it.

Mr. Human Calculator I Have The Answers Now needs to accept that life has a level of unpredictability and go for it anyway. Start fighting the current he put himself in and getting the things he does wants not the things he thinks he should want.

Random rant about the cemetery if you feel like reading my thoughts on that.

Random post about Buck, water, and the way he just goes with it forever and ever.

Shorter post about why Buck needs to choose.

My tag for metas if you liked my brand of crazy. 🫶🫶🫶

#this looks longer than it is #its all the screeshots sokaoskaoskas #i have no hinges left oasokasokaosk #yes i know i sound crazy its fine tho #911 #buddie #otp: you don't need to pretend with me #911 meta #buddie thoughts #buddie meta

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