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nolovelingers · 1 year ago

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TELL ME YOU DONT FEEL IT ⋆ ୨୧˚ wes hicks !!

⋆ ★ wes has had a crush on you since what feels like the beginning of time and he’s finally determined on getting you to tell him whether the feelings are reciprocated or not. — blurb !!

cw ᝰ.ᐟ sfw ,, talk of weed ,, readers high ,, fluff

dancing under the florescent night sky of the moon, a deep blue tarp with an array of stars scattered in groups like white paint on a canvas as laughter beamed from the depth of your body resided you and wes hicks.

a bittersweet feeling harmonized along with the two of you as you swayed to your own rhythm, not a single worry or doubt making itself present in your mind as you gave your thoughts away to the buzzing sensation vibrating all through you.

the 5’8 male had not been there initially to witness the intaking of a blunt rotation you shared between few friends, but he was quick to head over the second you asked.

there was worry that struck through his body at first as he picked up your call after only two rings, a small panic at seeing your name on his phone at such late hours of the night and it wasn’t until he heard you speak the protectiveness that ran through his veins settled only after a short explanation.

you had asked him to come and walk you back home, worried to do so alone and not in the sober mindset.

he rushed over as soon as he could, leading up to the present moment as you laughed away the cruelty of the world, stumbling just slightly as you skipped and danced without song.

“spin me!” you requested, and the hicks boy felt blood rush up to his face at the sudden odd request, your fingers reaching for his in a cupping motion.

complying with an awkward smile he lifted his arm, twirling you around and watching the way your clothes blew along with the direction of the wind, outlining the figure of your body that was just beautiful in his eyes. “how much did you have?” he mindlessly questioned, laughter threatening to poor from between his bubblegum pink tinted lips as he watched you with an intent gaze. his attention was solely on you and he was met with a shrug of your shoulders.

“why, did you wanna hit?” you didn’t even have to ask before you felt the pending answer, flipping your body around and walking backwards as you continued holding onto his slim fingers with your own.

“uhh, no, i don’t smoke.” he glanced at your hand that was still wrapped around his with a lingering look in his eyes that you were fast to mistake for him being uncomfortable, letting go of his hand and not noticing the slightly disappointed emotion rupturing over his features as he nervously looked at the pavement below the two of you.

you smiled, his response turning out exactly as you expected while continuing to walk the wrong way forward. wes eyes you carefully, prepared to shoot his arms out and catch you at the chance you fell. “i know. you’re a little mamas boy. it’s cute though, i really admire that.” there was nothing but genuineness in your voice as you spoke and the bleach-haired boy felt the need to turn his head away in a daze of embarrassment, the feeling of a rosy tint creeping over his fair skin.

there’s silence for a moment and he clears his throat, sticking his hands in the pockets of his grey-washed jeans and opting to try and switch the topic away from him. “how you feeling?” softly and with genuine concern in his ocean-blue eyes he met your vision with his, a light-hearted smile twitching the corners of just one side of his mouth up slightly.

“amazing,” you’re quick to answer him, finally flipping your body the right way round. “i feel like im one with the environment!” you giggle, so much intense passion evident in your voice while you announced your mindset to the boy; who’s blonde hair was breezing into patches with the wind, his dark brown roots becoming even more apparent.

wes watches you with a certain intensity of emotion in his eyes. like a mother watching her kid say their first words, or a doctor witnessing their patient start to walk again after being paralyzed for years.

he grins, keeping his head turned as he breaks his gaze away from you. you’re able to see the point of his canines clearly as he stays faced away, and suddenly you’re switching roles, finding yourself unable to look away from him.

you had never really seen him in this light before. not literally, the dark nightfall dimming his face; making his skin look smoother than it ever has, his jaw seemed to pop more, or maybe he was just clenching it, the yellow hue of lamplights coming and going as you walk down the concrete along with him and back to the neighborhood you both have been living in since you could open your eyes.

you had seen wes almost every day of your life. walking to school together, all the days you hung out, sharing classes and even carpooling with each others parent every once in a while.

but you had never really seen him like this. clearly.

and through the dim lighting, through the shadows of the night and the dark pallet of colors swarming the two of you you swore that you had really seen him. and there wasn’t a word to describe the feeling either. it was just like something was turning in your head, gears clicking after so many years.

he was enticing.

enticing you, and drawing you in without meaning.

he notices the quiet that fell between the two of you, and finally meets eye contact with you again. as soon as he does, he notices you had already been staring and an enormous blush immediately takes over him as he tries to figure out how long you had been watching him.

he brings his eyes back down, watching the floor and you notice as he carefully steps over every crack littered on the gray surface. finally you reach the street of your neighborhood, not too far from your friends house, and the boy instinctively grabs onto the cloth of your shirt as you cross the road to get to the right street.

you smile to yourself as you walk side to side next to him and he doesn’t once let go, watching both sides of the road for cars like one could come whipping through and cutting the corner any second to turn the both of you into road kill.

when you reach the next set of sidewalk, now down the path to your house, and he still hasn’t let go, you decide to direct the conversation. “are you gonna tell your mom why you had to come get me?”

he goes quiet for moment, turning to you with his brows furrowed like you had just asked him a really obvious question. “of course not.” a sound that sounds like a mix of a scoff and a giggle leaves his mouth. “even if i did it’s not like she’d arrest you.”

you roll your eyes, bumping your shoulder into him as you walk in sync together. “she’s the sheriff.” you slightly lean into him as you walk and he lets out a little sigh.

“yeah but.. it’s you.”

“what do you mean ‘it’s me’?”

clearly he wasn’t expecting you to want clarification on what he meant, his silence answers that for you. he looks at you, the crickets of the night being the only thing audible. “just.. you’re like my best friend. she wouldn’t arrest you over something like weed. to be honest, I think she smoked a few times when she was a teenager too.”

you hum, the drowsiness stage beginning to set in as you lean more into him, staggering just slightly. wes notices your irregular steps and drapes an arm around your shoulder, leaning you into him as an attempt to balance you.

you smile into his sleeve and don’t even notice the way he’s puffed his cheeks out or stopped breathing completely as he held you closer to him.

finally, you reach your house, the familiar structure waiting in front of you; dark and quiet.

“you’ll make it in okay?” he removes his arm, guiding you lightly in front of him so he can meet your eyes and you have to fight back rolling them at such a silly question but end up smiling at his worry over nothing.

“i don’t know, 15 more feet and im not sure ill have mine anymore.” you smirk at him and he rolls his eyes at you, a look of fondness adoring his features.“ughhh, i guess i should go. call it a night. thank you wes, seriously.” you smile at him, messing with his hair a little. he opens his mouth and then closes it again, like he’s debating saying something more; so you stay a moment longer.

he doesn’t say anything, and after debating with yourself internally for about 5 seconds you lean [down/up] and press a kiss to his cheek; which feels hot under your lips.

you could literally hear his breathing pick up, and when you finally break away from his skin he’s not looking anywhere near you but has rather zoned off somewhere behind you.

“goodnight wes.” you offer him a embarrassed smile before turning away, walking back to your door.

you make it a whopping 4 steps away before he’s calling out after you.

“stop.” there’s actual irritation in his voice, which isn’t normal, and you turn back to face him. he’s standing in the exact same spot with the same dazed look on his face only now he looks a little angry and confused as his forehead is creased and brows are pushed together while looking at you. “what is this? what are you doing?”

you’re confused, clasping your hands together to help gather warmth as a cold breeze runs through the air. “what do you mean?”

wes shakes his head, looking away and then back at you several times and it’s obvious he’s fighting with himself internally. “you know what i mean. this. us. what are you doing? why?”

you don’t look away from him once, confidently staying in your place as you cross your arms; embarrassed to address the situation but not nearly as much as he was. “can you clarify?” it’s kind of obvious what he’s talking about, but there’s some idiotic part of you in your mind forcing you to act stupid which only drove wes more mad.

he opens his lips and an estranged laugh leaves, like someone having a nervous breakdown and randomly starts giggling. it’s an agitated laugh.

“please, whatever you’re doing, stop. stop acting like you don’t know what i mean. you know what you’re doing, and- and what you just did. you must know what kind of effect you have over me or something because at this point it’s getting frustrating when you do these things but can’t even address it. it is like, physically hurting my heart at this point because all i can do when i try to sleep is stare at the ceiling and think about you and what you do to me and whether or not you know what you’re doing or if it’s unintentional and it’s driving me nuts. tell me you don’t feel it. tell me you don’t feel this!” despite how frantic his words come out, and how panicked and vulnerable he looks, he speaks clearly and strings the right words together to express himself. that’s always been a great trait about him. wes was great with his words and knows exactly how to describe how he’s feeling. he just struggled on having the courage to get them out.

you almost don’t know what to say, but there’s no time to find your words before he’s speaking again.

“and don’t give me any more bullshit about how you don’t know exactly what im taking about or how im not being ‘clear enough’ for you. i mean, seriously, i shouldn’t have to spell it out for you at this point because all of our friends know that i like you and even your family, which i tried so hard especially to hide it from, figured it out so fast. it’s not rocket science. besides my mom and tara you are the only girl i consider myself close with and there’s no way it’s not obvious to you when you ask me about the girl i like because it is definitely not tara, and it is definitely not my mom. i like them but not in the way i like you, not in the way you won’t leave my mind so much so it’s frustrating. i can hardly focus in class because I can’t stop thinking about us or if there even is an us or what could happen or if you feel the same way and it’s unfair because there has to be some part of you internally that knows I like you when you kiss my cheek or text me every morning and night or run your fingers through my hair when we hang out and I hate it so much because I can’t read you the same way you can read me and I can’t tell if you’re doing these things just to mess with me or because you might actually feel the same way.”

wes, now out of breath, let’s out quiet gasps and inhales of air after he finishes speaking. he stammers in place for a second, trying to catch his footing as he looks around the environment and at anywhere but you. trying to avoid your eyes. your face. it was all on the line now and he was terrified of what you might say.

“you.. like me?” you repeat to yourself, keeping your eyes trained on his face. this finally gets the hicks boys eyes to land back on you with a frustrated sigh; like you just asked the dumbest thing in the world.

“are you really gonna ask me that after I just finished my dramatic epilogue?”

a smile takes over your face from the way he says this, his breathing still uneven. so many thoughts churn through your head as you try to process what this all means. what this all could mean for you and the future of your friendship with wes.

“you’re right, sorry.” you awkwardly smile, taking one step closer to him as you begin to try to gather your mind and express what you were thinking.

“you’re not worried about this changing us? our friendship? what if we breakup?” all reasonable questions to ask, they come flying out of your mouth one by one and wes feels his heartbeat quicken in hope as he realizes you haven’t yet rejected him.

“youch, thinking about breaking up already?” the blonde feins hurt and places a hand loosely over his heart which earns an eye roll from you before he shakes his head. “do you even know how much I like you? I mean, clearly not. the last thing I would ever want is for us to breakup. if that happened, that’s on you. and our friendship? what do you mean? did you just friendzone me? (y/n).” wes lets out one last final sigh before grabbing for one of your hands with both of his, locking eyes with you nervously.

“please, i just need to know how you feel. if you don’t feel the same way, it’s fi-“

the feeling of his lips on yours is as soft as you could have ever imagined. they were plump and tasted of strawberry chapstick. a far too prolonged kiss was shared, and you cupped one side of his face with your hand while bringing the other behind his neck.

wes felt his knees buckle underneath him, feeling like he was in a dream. he had dreamed of this moment for so long and was now having a hard time believing it was real. the kiss almost felt too perfect.

after a few delayed seconds he gently placed both hands on your waist, holding you down in place as he moves his lips against yours as if to stop you from ever leaving.

you pull away, face burning a bright red and heart pounding an unnatural rate before you finally open your mouth to speak.

“i feel it.”

` ੈ˚ ★ a / n : i deadass started ts 7 months ago but it’s been rotting in my drafts since school started back and nasa wanted to recruit me as a potential subject in their spacial exposure severer super undercover mission

started 08.06.23.

finished 03.29.24.

( scream masterlist )

©️ nolovelingers 2024

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deathofacupid · 11 months ago

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i'll always take care of you | clay jensen

a/n: this post saved me! posting another clay fic fully aware it's going to flop...

summary: clay hates parties, but if you're going, he's going too. someone's gotta watch out for you, right?

warnings: underage drinking, mention of drugs, cursing

pairing: fem!reader x clay jensen

word count: 1.2k+ words

he swears, he swears, he took his eyes off you for less than five minutes to pee. in his defense, clay didn't think you'd go missing in that short amount of time. (okay, he tells himself, maybe "missing" isn't the right word choice if he wants to stay calm.)

now, he thinks - knows - otherwise. clay regrets not asking one his sober friends to watch you, because who knows what might've happened to you?

and now that he's acknowledged the fact something might've happned to you, he's spiraling. hey, at least he's self aware of the fact he's spiraling, right?

yeah, okay, so that doesn't make things better.

he asks around, but the music is too loud, so most people don't even hear him. and if they do hear him, they're "busy". whether it's dancing, grinding, or drinking, he's reached the conclusion that no one gives shits.

he's frantically going back and forth, room to room. clay tries your phone a number of times, though he isn't suprised when it goes straight to voicemail.

as he shoves past more people, heading to the kitchen where the drinks are at (you might be there), his mind is racing with every possibility.

what if someone took advantage of you? and it was all his fault? be, god, did he not learn all the previous times?

he shoulders a drunk couple, and scans the area. empty bottles, alcohol and not, trash on the counters, and a number of cabinets are left open. clay takes a few steps forward, accidentally kicking a can. he pick it up, and in the process, sees a girl... just lying there.

he makes a face, before realizing it's not just any girl. it's his girlfriend. it's... you.

"y/n? what the hell? where's your phone at? i've been looking for you everywhere!" he exclaims, trying to pull you up.

"shh. sh. look at those stars. god, i just love the ursa major."

"we're inside. those are the ceiling lights," clay says. he doesn't think he's ever met someone who gets drunk like you.

"oh. well, it's still magical."

"yeah, lord praise the electrican," with a slight struggle, he pulls you up to your feet, and you don't resist.

"how much did you have to drink?" he mutters, and it's mostly rhetorical.

"yes, i am."

"no, that's not- never mind. we're leaving."

"nooo. why? we just got here!"

"oh, yeah," he rolls his eyes, "we just got here 3 hours ago."

you whine again, but he just sighs. you aren't normally a heavy drinker, but when you do decide to get out of that comfort zone, you go all out.

currently, it felt like he was dragging around a hormonal toddler. 0/10 experience, he does not recommend. of course, he'll happily do it anyways.

ask anybody really, clay's completely whipped for you. he hasn't felt this was since hannah, and even then, it doesn't feel the same.

it feels deeper.

part of him is afraid he's gonna mess this up, and that his love for you has peaked. but he looks right at you, and realizes that it never will.

"come on, angel," he says, almost pleadingly. the way your eyes gleam at the nickname he's just dropped has him all giddy.

"okie," you make grabby-hands at them.

"is this- are you asking me to carry you?" clay knows very well it wouldn't work out well. he's so greatful you look past his physical strength.

you shrug. "well," clay presses his lips together, "it looks like you can in fact walk, so... let's get to it."

he takes a step to you, and you stumble straight into his arms. clay darts a hand to your lower back to steady you, "whoa."

"i'm good!" you slur.

"and off we go, drunkie."

"'m... i'm not a," you pause, hiccupping, trying to remember the word he used.

"uh, at this moment, you are." he leads you to the front door, and he's so focused on helping you take steps forward, he completely slams into someone.

clay falters back as you fall out of your grip. but as he realizes what's happened, he sees that justin's caught you, and you're pressed up against him. "oh," you murmur, "well, hello there, handsome."

"yeah, okay, no," clay loops your arm back around him, stealing you back from his brother.

"alas, i'm taken," justin sighs. "and you are too. forbidden love, huh?"

clay rolls his eyes, for what feels like the millionth time tonight. "y/n's, like, shit-faced."

"i can see that. you taking her home?"

"your parents are out of town, right?" he asks, turning back to you.

"my... my parents?" you ask, "i have-?"

clay makes eye contact with justin. "she'll stay the night. i don't want her home alone. i assume you'll..." he grimaces, "stay the night with jess?"

"oh, you know it, bro."

clay makes a face, picturing his brother having sex isn't great. he knows he doesn't have to tell justin to do the right thing.

"cool. then you won't need a ride back."

"nope. you aren't drunk, right?"

"i'm the designated driver," clay replies.

"cool. night, by the way," he says, giving the two of you a quick hug.

"goodnight!" you sing-song, individually sounding out ever syllable.

he opens the car door for you, and you squint off into the distance. "look at the moon. it's so pretty. you're almost as pretty."

clay follows your eye line. "that... that is a street-lamp."

you shrug, "you're almost as pretty."

"gee, thanks."

"don't be jealous?"

"it's hard to not envy a street-lamp."

you giggle drunkenly, and a small smile flits over his face, "you're adorable," he tells you.

"i know," you say, matter-of-factly.

"aww, what an adorable narcissist."

"very."

clay chuckles and closes the door, getting in from the other side.

“where are we going?” you ask, squinting at the rear-view mirror in awe. “oh my, that’s me,” you whisper.

"a; my place, b; that's your reflection. wild, right?"

"whoa," is all you respond with. you pull on your seatbelt, adjusting it so you can turn to face him in your seat. "i really, really love you."

"well, you're in luck," he smiles, "the feeling's mutual."

he tries to keep up with your nonsensical blabber, but he doesn't know if he's done a good job. either way, clay's just pulled into the parking lot, turning the ignition off.

"all right," he turns to look at you, exiting from his side, and over to yours. unbuckling your belt for you, clay helps you out.

"to the shed we go!" you cheer, not very quietly. clay clamps a hand over your mouth, "you could quite literally not be any louder."

you bite his hand, and he yelps, pulling it away. "yes, i could!" you argue.

"trust me, i don't wanna test that theory out."

"your loss."

"not really."

the first thing he does is help you change into comfier clothes, an old shirt of his and basketball shorts that don't fit him anymore. clay doesn't have a reason to keep makeup wipes around, but he adds them to his mental shopping list for next time. he grabs a clean rag and wets it with warm water, gently wiping off the makeup.

then it's just you and his in the outhouse, pressed against each other under covers.

"tired?" he asks. you nod simply in reply.

"yeah, me too. now i have a good idea of being a dad is like." he chuckles at his own stupid joke, thinking that if you were sober, you'd say something silly like "okay, daddy".

"thanks for..." you trail off, yawning. clay kisses your forehead.

"i'll always take care of you."

#clay jensen imagine #clay jensen fluff #clay jensen #clay jensen fanfic #clay jensen x reader #13rw #13rw self insert #thirteen reasons why

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