#Yeah I’m just so confused but so excited

[byhees]

when you want to do the ribbon trend

heeseung would have the smuggest look smothered all over his features; it’s as though it’d be a telltale hint as to why his pretty girl would be skipping towards the living room, a roll of pink satin ribbon in hand; and immediately after you’d ask him for his permission to tie little pretty ribbons around his biceps, he’d respond with a playful “you don’t even have to ask, love”; would intentionally flex his muscles whilst you’d be tying them, wanting to show off a little— and perhaps earn a compliment or two…

jay would be a little amused; had he ever seen this trend before? never. is he bothered by it? absolutely not— especially not with the glint in your gaze, the way you excitedly explain the concept of the short video to him has his heart melting, hesitance dissipating into thin vapour; “just let me know what to do, yeah?” he’d say, sitting still and patient as you tie the pink ribbons around his biceps— would flush ever so slightly when you tie one around a bundle of hair, the bow sitting pretty atop his head…

jake would, initially, be a little confused, but he’d simply follow along, not wanting to defuse that euphoric tint to your eyes; once he’d gotten more or less of the trend, he’d fully bask in it— “are you sure that one’s straight? looks a little wonky from where i am”, he’d comment under his breath, a cheeky smile playing on his lips as you lean in once more, re-tying the satin ribbon around his bicep— it’s just a silly excuse for you to do it again; would wind up leaning close to press a kiss on your lips, heart thumping with adoration, the video stopping its recording a second or two later…

sunghoon would, surprisingly, be a little menace, and find new ways to fluster you; the whole concept of the trend already has him drowning in a puddle of excitement. would wind up being a little trend-inventor, suggesting new takes; “how about you leave a pretty kiss mark on my cheek, that way it’ll highlight the whole ribbon thing”— that’s.. not exactly correlated; “how about i tie some in your hair too? that way we’ll match”— you’re sure that he’s forgotten the main idea of the trend; regardless, you let him do as he suggests with a small, exasperated smile, given that he’s so enthusiastic about the whole video…

sunoo would be adorably eager about the whole idea; a millisecond after explaining the concept of the video to him, he’d find himself sprinting to the room, already grabbing the roll of satin ribbon for you— “i’m ready, baby”, he’d chirp, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal his biceps; you’d have to contain the growing blush across your cheeks from his directness, paired with the urge to giggle at how enthusiastic he was being…

jungwon would tease you on end; “gosh, if you wanted an excuse to gawk at my biceps, you could’ve just said so, baby”, he’d cheekily sing, rolling up the short sleeves of his shirt to show his toned bicep— would intentionally flex his muscles, finding the bashful clear of your throat, and the pink hue to your cheeks, adorable; “it’s the prettiest thing ever, love. thank you”, he’d giggle, gazing up to meet your twinkling eyes…

riki would be flustered beyond the capacity of words; would cock his head to the side, brows furrowing as a soft “huh?” slips past his lips— wouldn’t get it even after the second time of explanation; simply follows what you say, gazing at you with light confusion as you tie a pretty ribbon around his biceps. “i still don’t get it.. but i guess it looks nice”, he’d mumble, fingers lightly fiddling with the ends of the satin; without a doubt, he’d lie in bed the following night, scrolling through social media for more couple trends…

[matchpointfaist]

college best friend! art x reader °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

three days passed after the party, after the kiss, and art didn’t so much as text, call, or reach out in any way. you were hurt, confused, slightly anxious at the loss of contact, but more than anything, you missed him.

you missed his stupid jokes and the way he smiled like you were the funniest, most brilliant person in the room. the way his arms lingered when he hugged you goodnight, the way he rambled on and on about tennis and potential matches and probability for going pro next year. the way he’d sit patiently while you studied or read, even though you knew he was bursting at the seams to do anything but study. you missed your best friend, plain and simple, and you hoped that he missed you too.

his long awaited breach of silence finally came on the fourth day, early that morning, around the time you were sure he was getting ready for his morning job. it was simple, to the point, a text that quickened your heart rate unreasonably so; ‘can i come over later? miss you.’

‘of course you can.’ you replied in an instant, already making space on your bed for him to lounge, subconsciously making sure you looked okay, that your sleep deprivation and worry weren’t broadcasted too clearly on your face.

he was there thirty minutes later, a soft knock at the door pulling you from your thoughts, jarring you and exciting you far more than it should’ve. “coming!” you called, straightening out your clothes before pulling the door open, fighting a sigh of relief at the sight of him.

four days was the longest you’d gone without seeing him since the two of you met, which seemed sort of pathetic to think of, but you’d grown accustomed to spending all your free time with him. “hi,” he smiled, less enthusiastic than usual, but a smile nonetheless, “can i come in?”

as if nothing happened, the two of you sat on your bed, and you tried not to let your eyes linger too long on his lips; your mind wandering to the way they’d felt on yours.

“i guess i should apologize,” he broke the silence that had settled over the room hesitantly, “i shouldn’t have kissed you without asking first. we were drunk, and i was an idiot, and i’m so sorry, and you can be mad at me but i miss you, and,”

you cut him off with a laugh, shaking your head, “shut up, art. don’t be sorry, okay? it was sweet, it was-“ your cheeks flushed, “it was good, i promise. i miss you too,” he blinked in surprise, a slow smile spreading across his face, and it struck you then that you’d do anything to keep him this way. happy, awestruck, content.

“it was good?” he asked softly, like he was afraid if you repeated it you’d change your mind, “i could- i mean, we could kiss again, if you wanted, i just didn’t wanna assume, and i didn’t wanna overstep,”

this time, you cut him off with your lips over his, just as he’d done at the party. he tensed, ever so briefly, before melting into you, kissing you and smiling against your lips and tracing his fingers up your spine, pulling you into him and warming you so thoroughly you were certain you’d never felt anything like it.

you settled in his lap, curling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck as you kissed him until you were breathless, until you had to pause and rest your forehead against his, giggling slightly, giddy on affection.

“i’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he exhaled with a soft, breathy laugh, “you really have no idea, i- i’ve thought of you, like this, for so long,” “yeah?” you kissed him again, unable to hold yourself back, hoping you could show him that you felt the exact same way.

it was cliche, falling for your best friend. it was reckless and silly and so unbearably young of you, but you didn’t care. with art, it felt like you’d known him all your life. maybe even before that, in some alternate past life, maybe you’d been in love with him before your souls were even in these bodies, here in this dorm room. the statistical probability of meeting him, out of everyone in this world, was so slim, but you truly couldn’t fathom feeling this way for anyone else.

no one could come close to him, you were sure of it. he made you feel so alive and so at ease, so completely certain of yourself, so confident that this was the right thing to do. you’d never felt anything more right than kissing him, actually. it was like all the little pieces fell into place, and suddenly you knew exactly what to do, exactly where to place your hands, exactly how to move against him.

his hands made their way up the back of your shirt, tucked underneath the material, hot and smooth against your skin as you kissed him, and you were startled as a soft moan passed from your lips to his as his hand brushed a particularly tender spot on your shoulders, leaving chills on the delicate skin.

he smiled against you, pulling away to look at you from his seat underneath you, his eyes wide and admiring. “do you want me to stop?” he asked almost timidly, “we don’t have to do anything else,”

“wanna do this,” you said without a second thought, pausing to pull your shirt over your head, shivering slightly in your bralette. his cheeks reddened, and you felt him stiffen beneath you, hard between your thighs. “you’re so beautiful,” he exhaled, gently reaching out to trace over your ribs and chest, so featherlight and tender it almost brought tears to your eyes.

it was quicker after that, all of your clothes in a pile on your floor, pulled off between breathless kisses and murmurs of admiration from the both of you. art was all muscle under his shirt, his chest rippling with movement, and you were reminded of just how strong he really was as he picked you up, repositioning the two of you and laying between your thighs, kissing you from this new position with a power he didn’t have before.

“art,” you mumbled against his lips, pulling at his hair gently, “d’you want me on top?” his breath visibly faltered, and he looked you over, his eyes dark as he took in the sight of you laid out beneath him. “want you however you feel best,” he said quietly, pressing a warm kiss to your chest, and you sat up as you heard him laugh, felt the hot exhale of his breath against you.

“what?” you asked, suddenly self conscious, crossing your arms over your bare chest, and his eyes widened at the motion, like he was confused. “oh, no- i just, i can’t believe we’re doing this,” he smiled, gently pulling your arms down, kissing your cheek, “can’t believe i finally have you,”

he kept kissing you as he moved closer between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit with an unsteady hesitation, but he relaxed as you hummed in pleasure, your eyes falling closed. “feels good,” you murmured, tilting your head up to kiss his neck, arching into his touch, “god, art, that’s really good,”

only a few minutes and he had you practically writhing beneath him, whimpering and moaning and suddenly so embarrassingly desperate in a way that a man had never had you before. after he was sure that you were comfortable, that you were ready, he rested the palm of one hand on your cheek as he slid into you, his face all hazy with pleasure, a quiet groan leaving his swollen lips.

“oh my god,” he buried his face in your neck, resting his hand on your hip to hold you tight to him as he fucked you, and you were acutely aware of the way he shook like he was holding himself back.

you were a mess of breathless moans and messy kisses, your hands in his hair and his hands on every inch of your skin and taking pauses just to look at each other, to take in the beautiful simplicity of this; this, between you, this love that had been growing for months that you’d both been too shy or scared of just plain stupid to admit.

he made you come before he’d let himself finish, his mouth swallowing your moans as you trembled around him, digging your nails into his toned back as he fucked you through it, panting against your neck and praising you so softly you thought maybe he wasn’t even doing it for your benefit.

when he finished, your name spilled from his lips in a broken moan, and you wished you could capture it forever, play it on repeat whenever the mood struck. he was so doting after, cleaning you up gently, kissing you and taking breaks to laugh, to smile with the sort of giddiness you’d only seen on him after he won a match.

you fell asleep there, despite you both having classes that day, too caught up in the serenity of it all to leave your dorm room. when you woke up from your nap, art was still there, his expression peaceful as he lay curled up in your pink bedsheets, your stuffed bear under his arm. when he finally woke up, he laid in your lap as you read the study material for the class you both missed. later that night, he fucked you again, taking his time and kissing every inch of you, his movements so slow and careful that it warmed you all over. you knew you loved him far before that, but it finally came from your lips as you came undone for the second time, and when you both calmed down, he made you say it again just to make sure you meant it.

and oh god, you did.

[ghostgirl-22]

If you saw me post this and accidentally delete the ask and everything, no you didn’t 😭

But yeah anon. Patrick would do anything for him.  Make a mess of him before his first hook up with the prettiest girl in school. Just because he feels like it, just because he can. Because Art’s his best friend. His.  

He’s an amazing friend.

CW: 18+ NSFW 

——-

“Is it okay?” Art asks. He’s dressed up so nice in one of Patrick’s smaller sweaters, its cloudy blue like his eyes. He’s got on fitted black jeans, and a brown leather jacket. He looks so good, smells so good, like black cherry and tobacco, this expensive cologne that he only wears when he thinks he might get laid. 

He’s visibly nervous. Chewing incessantly on spearmint gum. Always nervous about his first time with a new girl. Patrick doesn’t know why, if he was a pretty girl he’d be wet the moment Art turned that shy little smile in his direction. He doesn’t need to dress up, pretty boy. He got Kennedy Sawyer’s attention in sweatpants and a t-shirt while he was arguing with Patrick over final fantasy play styles at breakfast.

But that’s not important. What’s important is Patrick just wants to help. Art is his best friend after all. He sits up on his bed, dropping his game controller. “Come ‘ere,” he says. Art checks his hair in the mirror for the third time and then approaches Patrick, eyes dilated, nerves making him run his sweaty palms awkwardly over his jeans.  That’s when it catches Patrick’s eye. He teases his finger tips up Art’s thighs up to the bulge along his hip, it’s not obvious but Patrick knows him so well, knows how he tries to hide it, but Patrick can tell that he’s hard. “I can’t calm down,” Art admits quietly. 

“You wanna know my secret?” Patrick asks, gripping at either side of his unzipped jacket and pulling him closer. “Like how I stay cool when I’m out with a beautiful girl?” 

Art looks hopeful that Patrick’s about to tell him the secret to life. “How?” 

Patrick tugs Art a little bit closer so he’s got a leg on either side of one of Patrick’s thighs. “I like to rub one out first…  just to help my nerves.”

“I um—really?” Art studies him, trying to decide whether Patrick means it or if he's full of shit. “No fucking way,” he decides, followed by that stupid pretty smile of his, the one that makes Patrick want to get on his knees. 

“I’m so serious,” that smile is contagious even when Arts annoyed. Patrick keeps his grip on Art’s jacket to hold him in place. “It helps, I promise. Especially if she’s really pretty, like Kennedy is. Plus it helps so I don’t finish too fast when we…” he looks up at Art's pretty blue eyes, letting him fill in the blank.

He’s chewing again. Anxious. He definitely has that “too fast” issue. He gets so excited. Patrick still touches himself remembering the night Art asked him, red faced and shy to please show him how to French kiss. Not even two minutes with Patrick’s tongue in his mouth and he’d already cum in his pants and got so embarrassed he nearly cried. Doesn’t even get how gorgeous he is. 

Oh. Patrick just wants to help him. Wants to help him so bad. He’s his best friend after all. Patrick can just imagine Art, soft and sweet and so gentle with her. Fucking into her, losing it too fast and promising he can do it again. Tears of shame in his eyes. God, Patrick kinda wants to be her. 

“I guess I should…” Art says quietly, bringing Patrick back from his thoughts. His expression thoughtful, his tongue, eager as he plays with his gum in his mouth. 

“I mean… what could it hurt?” Patrick shrugs, grabbing at Arts belt buckle.

“Um…” Art blinks, confused. He’s so smart but stupid about some things. He gets with the program fast enough, once Patrick’s got his hands on him. God, he’s hard. So fucking hard he’s already leaking into his boxers, can’t calm down. Let’s Patrick pull him onto his lap as his breathing picks up. “Patrick, no, it’s late. ‘m gonna be late,” he sounds a little panicky, but he’s gripping at Patrick’s biceps as they both look down at his lap, Patrick’s hand working inside his boxers. 

“No, it’s okay, I promise,” Patrick whispers. Not sure what he’s promising, he’s already lost the plot. Art smells so good. Patrick always wonders if he tastes as good as he smells in this cologne. He licks a stripe up the side of his throat, kisses his way up to Art's lips. Petal soft and minty, Art opens up right away. His mouth heated and… oh so wet. He scoots closer, his neatly ironed shirt getting wrinkled because he’s pressed up against Patrick’s body. His fingers tangled in Patrick’s hair. The kiss getting sloppier, sticky gum sliding back and forth between them. He’s chaos. So good at keeping it all in until he can’t. 

If Patrick wasn’t hard from the moment Art got back to the room to get ready for his little date he’d be gone by now. Patrick is dizzy, swallowing on Art’s helpless little gasps, the kinda kissing that can make Art come untouched. But Patrick wants to touch him,  bucks his hips up so Art can feel him. It’s not too long before Art is just mouthing him, no technique no nothing, just opened mouth moaning against Patrick’s lips. Patrick’s heart is racing, the blood pounding in his ears. He’s on the brink. 

“Tell me what you wanna do to her?” Patrick mutters hot, against his lips, hand gripping tighter, moving faster. You’ve been so patient for two months. So good… I bet you can’t wait to fuck into her wet dripping cunt…”  

“God Patrick…I want it so bad,” He whines. “I wanna— wanna fuck— fuck—” 

“Yeah?” Patrick coaxes, as if any of this is coherent.

“God Patrick, Patrick,” it’s all he can manage before spilling it everywhere, heated sticky pearls of white all over that neatly pressed blue shirt and black jeans. The image of it makes Patrick lose it, breathless in his pants. They’re both sitting there, catching their breaths. A soft sheen of sweat visible on Art’s forehead, his skin mildly flushed.

”Fuck,” Art whispers after a minute. “My…my clothes.” 

“Yeah,” Patrick sighs, leaning back on the bed, letting the mess on his palm spread onto his sheets. “Shoulda done it before you got dressed probably…” 

Art takes a deep breath and pushes himself up to his feet, while simultaneously trying to straighten himself out. Patrick watches him, mildly amused. “I have to change… do you um… do you have another shirt?”

”I mean… I think what you were wearing is perfect. God. It really brings out your eyes.”

”Well I can’t wear it now, and I’m already late, god I’m supposed to meet her out front in ten minutes. We’re gonna miss the movie and the next show is not till 8 and we won’t make dinner before curfew and Ms. Henderson will be sitting outside the girls dorm and—” He’s started talking so fast he’s getting pitchy.  

“Hey I got a crazy idea,” Patrick interrupts and Art stares at him, so pathetically frustrated but also covered in jizz. It almost makes Patrick laugh but he stops himself. “This is supposed to be special, right? Why don’t you wait till tomorrow night? You can wash everything and you know… we can do it before you get dressed next time.”

”No we are not doing that again,” Art says determinedly, because he’s so sated and in his right mind.  

“Well you can then,” Patrick shrugs, smirking. 

Art rolls his eyes and goes to pick up his phone from the charger to text her the change of plans. Patrick goes into the bathroom to clean up a bit. 

“I’m gonna be hungry, should we order pizza?” Art calls from the room. 

“Yeah,” Patrick says, smiling to himself in the mirror. “Definitely.” 

[figthoughts]

jealousy games — dean winchester ⋆˚࿔

summary: after a nasty argument, dean decides to get back at you by flirting with another woman. you take it upon yourself to return the energy.

warnings: smut (with a plot!), oral (f. receiving), jealous/angry dean, angst?, manhandling, est. relationship (dom!bf!dean x gf!reader) 18+

⋆ .𖥔˚

dean’s hand slid higher and higher up the woman’s thigh as you watched from across the bar, your lips threatening to curl into a scowl at the sight. his eyes were on you, and that stupid, proud smirk on his face had you seething as you watched the excited blonde bounce around in the seat next to your boyfriend, giggling at every word that left his lips.

you huffed angrily to yourself and turned to face the bar again, having had enough of his little display. fine. if he wants to play that game, then you’ll play too. no big deal.

you swallowed the last of your drink and slammed it back down onto the bar, eyeing the place for someone suitable. your eyes landed on two men, who were both staring intently at you from their barstools a few seats up. the men were decently handsome and looked like they could take a punch if it came to it, so you flashed them a sweet smile.

the men grinned and turned to each other for a moment, exchanging a few quiet words before standing up and making their way over to you.

“hey, pretty thing. i’m dan… and this is mike,” the taller man greeted and gestured to his friend before leaning on the bar next to you. “you drinking alone?”

you tilted your head up at them and forced out a smile, “mhm, just blowing off some steam.”

the pair nodded and checked you out, eyeing you up and down with matching grins on their faces. “so what’s your name? can we buy you a drink?” mike asked.

you gave them your name and bit your lower lip, watching the men smile in response to your flirting. “actually, i kinda want to dance,” you said, smirking at them.

“oh, yeah? dance? we can dance,” mike nodded slowly, holding his hand out for you.

you chuckled softly, shooting a glance back at dean, before grabbing the man’s hand. “great, let’s go then.”

dean’s mind had completely abandoned the gorgeous blonde sat in front of him. his eyes were glued on you, and they had been since he saw the two men first make their way over to you. dean’s jaw tensed as he watched you lead the guys onto the dance floor, his grip on his beer bottle tightening, turning his knuckles bone white.

“hey, uh— are you okay?” the blonde woman asked, her brows furrowing in confusion as she noticed the scowl form on dean’s face.

“i’m fine,” he responded curtly, his eyes not leaving your figure as he spoke.

he watched the two men circle around you as you danced, like predators stalking their prey. dean could feel the rage beginning to flood his veins. he didn’t like this. not one bit.

as you moved in rhythm with the two men, you could feel dean’s eyes boring into you from across the bar. you could sense the anger in his gaze, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself in satisfaction; you were winning. you were beating him at his own damn juvenile game.

you moved closer to the two men and began grinding along with them to the music, feeling their hands travel over your body, demanding and brash. you shut your eyes and smiled, letting them guide you and your movements.

dean watched on from the table he was sat at, slowly sipping his beer with a sour expression plaguing his face as the blonde tried—and failed—to make conversation again.

but dean’s attention was still on you. he could barely watch as the men let their hands wander all over the places of your body that he knew so well, so intimately. the taller man leaned down and whispered something in your ear, making you throw your head back and laugh. dean’s jaw tensed again. he nearly crushed the beer bottle in his bare hand as he saw you pull the man back down and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your chest against his.

then dean caught your eyes as you spun around to face him with a big smug smirk plastered on your face.

that was it.

dean abruptly excused himself from the woman and stood up, heading directly for you on the dance floor with heavy footfalls. you watched him, continuing to smirk as you rested your head on dan’s shoulder.

“we’re going. now.” dean snapped quietly, but firmly enough for you—and the two men—to hear over the hum of the music as he grabbed your upper arm.

“hey, man—” mike moved in front of you and dan, blocking dean from pulling you away.

“yeah,” dean laughed lowly, “i’m not talking to you, buddy.” dean let go of your arm and pulled his back, throwing his weight into a punch, landing a nasty blow on mike’s jaw.

mike stumbled off to the side, his hands immediately grabbing his jaw as he let out a deep pained groan.

“hey!” dan yelled and pushed you behind him. he stepped forward, up to dean, “what’s your fuckin’ problem, man?”

dean laughed again, darkly and unimpressed, but slightly amused by the man’s attempt to defend his friend’s honour. dean found your eyes, ignoring dan entirely, and spoke directly to you, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“i said we’re going. now.”

you laughed and shook your head, “no, i don’t think so. go back to that pretty little blonde.”

you grabbed dan’s shoulder and pulled him back to you, dismissing dean from saying anything further. dan hesitantly wrapped his arms back around you as he watched dean seethe from the corner of his eye.

“baby. now.” dean snapped, his face tightening in anger. “the ‘pretty little blonde’ was nothing. you’re doing too much now, and you know it.”

“do you know this guy?” dan asked you as he glanced between dean, mike—who was still rubbing his tender jaw with a scowl on his face—and you.

you shrugged, “not really. just some guy.”

dean scoffed and ripped dan off of you. dan grunted with widened eyes, clearly not anticipating dean’s strength. he stumbled backwards into mike, who let out another groan.

“some guy, my ass,” dean huffed and got in your face. “we’re leaving. now. let’s go.”

you rolled your eyes, despite his serious tone and expression. you glanced at the two guys with an apologetic look, “sorry, fellas. it was nice to meet you both. sorry ‘bout the…” you gestured towards your jaw.

dean pulled you towards the exit through the sparse crowd of drunken patrons, huffing angrily as you smiled back at the two men, whose faces were contorted in confusion and disbelief at the whole situation.

dean managed to pull you outside into the cool air of the parking lot and shoved you towards the impala. “you think that shit is fucking funny?” he snapped.

you flinched slightly at the roughness of his voice but continued smirking anyways, responding with defiance laced thick in your tone, “yeah, a little bit to be honest.”

“s’not fucking funny. get the fuck in.” dean growled angrily, swinging open the passenger door for you.

you did as you were told, sliding into the passenger seat and rolling your eyes as he slammed the door. dean walked around to the driver’s side and got in.

“how could you let them touch you like that? no one touches you like that but me. got it?” he started the car and turned to you expectantly, waiting for your answer as the engine rumbled in the quiet of the parking lot.

“oh, but it’s fine for you to touch that woman the way you did in there, huh?” you shot back, clicking in your seatbelt.

dean’s face hardened as he began reversing the impala, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white. “she was nothing,” he replied with a dangerously low tone.

“oh, yeah? you basically fingerfucking her at that table was nothing?” you snapped in a huff and crossed your arms.

dean pulled onto the main road and scoffed to himself. “yeah, it was nothing,” he said bluntly, keeping his eyes on the dark road ahead.

“i know what you were trying to do, dean.”

“yeah? obviously it worked,” he chuckled back mockingly, taking a moment to glance at your sullen face.

you scoffed and tightened your crossed arms, “fuck you, dean! you’re so immature, you know that? we have one little fight and you just go off and find the biggest bimbo to flirt with just to piss me off!”

“amanda isn’t a bimbo,” dean replied flatly, his tone mocking again, “she’s pre-med, actually.”

“i don’t give a fuck!” you yelled.

“yeah, you don’t give a fuck. that’s why you were practically fucking bert and ernie on the dance floor!” he snapped back in a huff, turning onto a side street.

you felt the anger begin to boil the blood in your veins as he kept speaking, acting like this whole situation wasn’t his fault, which only riled you up further. “well, maybe if you fucking treated me right, i wouldn’t have to go and find assholes to dance around with!”

“treat you ri— are you joking?!” dean scoffed in disbelief and shot you a look. “treat you right? you’re the centre of my goddamn world. i’d die without you. and you wanna cry about me not treating you right. i treat you right,” he growled lowly without taking his eyes off the road, his tone deep and venomous, your words clearly striking a nerve.

you let out a huff and looked out the window. “yeah, right whenever you want something,” you muttered angrily.

dean slammed a hand down on the steering wheel as the motel came into view further down the road, making you flinch slightly at the sudden noise.

“i do treat you right. i’m doing the best i can, damn it!” he turned to you, his expression a strange combination of anger and hurt swirling around on his tense face.

you rolled your eyes, which only seemed to visibly piss dean off more. “the best you can?” you began to raise your voice, “if the ‘best you can’ is flirting with another woman in front of me, then i don’t want your ‘best’, you fucking ass!”

dean shook his head, turning the impala into the motel parking lot. it fell silent as dean pulled the keys out from the ignition. his eyes dropped to his hands in his lap.

dean took in a sharp breath, “get inside.”

you turned your head to him, looking at his tensed jaw and the way his chest moved from heaving out rough breaths. you opened your mouth to begin speaking.

but you were interrupted by dean, “now.”

his voice was low and unsettling. it was disarming, having dean speak to you in a way that you’d rarely ever seen, let alone been on the receiving end of. okay, so maybe you pushed him a little too far with your antics. you knew about dean’s jealousy issues when it came to the people he loved, but to see it play out in real time had your heart racing.

“okay.”

was all you said, before hopping out of the car and walking to the motel room. dean followed quickly behind you and shut the door. he looked at you, his eyes now darkened and his mouth pressed into a firm sneer.

“i don’t wanna talk. i want you to take your clothes off and get on the bed,” dean said, his tone still disarmingly low and calm.

you swallowed softly and nodded—you couldn’t disagree. hell, you didn’t even know if you wanted to. your fingers found the hem of your shirt and you pulled it over your head whilst kicking off your shoes. dean watched as you silently undressed yourself, and he began pulling his clothes off too, still watching your every move like a damn hawk.

dean followed you onto the bed and grabbed your jaw with his rough hands, yanking you towards him. he met your lips with fervour, forcing your mouth open and shoving his tongue against yours, completely and utterly claiming you, reminding you that you’re his. and his only.

his grip on your jaw was tight, and it stayed that way as his other hand travelled down your body, ending up between your thighs. his fingers flicked over your clit, making your hips jerk in surprise as a gasp fell from your mouth.

“no, keep fucking still,” dean muttered against your lips before diving back in, tangling his tongue with yours again.

you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you. dean’s fingers began rubbing your core, forcing a wave of heat to fall over your body and pool in your stomach. he worked his hand between your thighs until he could feel your cunt drool and your folds puff up under his fingers.

he was rough and unforgiving with his hand, rubbing your heat quickly, like he was trying to channel his anger from the car and turn it into pleasure. you whined and whimpered into his mouth, and your legs began to shake from holding yourself up.

dean could feel you beginning to lose composure as you twitched against his hand. he didn’t let you break the kiss or pull away from his touch; his tongue kept dominating your mouth, lapping up your sweet taste mixed with the lingering flavour of alcohol on your tongue.

you hit your climax and moaned slurred mumbles into his mouth as a wave of pleasure crashed over you. he hummed as he felt your wet cunt quiver against his fingers.

dean pulled back from your lips and panted down at you, his free hand still holding your face, keeping you looking up at him. his face was still tense, and his pupils were completely blown out by desire. you could feel the anger and need radiating off him in thick heavy waves.

“you really think i treat you like shit, huh?” he huffed out, pulling his wet hand away from your cunt and roughly shoving you back onto the bed.

you fell back onto the pillows and looked up at him with wide eyes. “dean, i—” you started.

“no,” he interrupted, “that was a rhetorical question. i’d die for you, you know that? a-and you go and say that i’m a bad boyfriend. that i treat you like shit. that i’m not good enough.”

your eyes stayed wide as you took in his anger and the venom—that was barely just disguising the hurt—in his voice. dean shook his head at your silence; he knew his words were cutting deep, but he wanted you to understand how much they’d hurt him.

dean forced your thighs apart, letting his gaze fall upon your puffed up cunt, which was practically begging to be split open and used.

“yeah, a bad boyfriend,” he quipped to himself, shaking his head at how quickly he’d gotten you worked up like usual and how you still don’t even realise how good he is for you, especially like this.

you frowned up at him, watching the anger pull tight at his features. “dean, please. i didn’t mean—”

dean met your eyes again and sneered, “no, i don’t wanna hear it. you don’t say a thing to me, alright? you keep that mouth shut.”

he was dead serious. his chest rose and fell as he kept his hardy gaze on you, his eyes boring into yours.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes, trying to lighten the tension between the two of you. “dean, c’mon—”

he shook his head and delivered a quick smack to your cunt, the hit stinging your sensitive bud, forcing a whimper to escape from your mouth as your hips bucked.

“i said not a goddamn peep,” he repeated. his eyes continued to bore into yours, waiting for you to comply with his words—or not. he was ready to smack you again if he needed to, and you could tell.

so you nodded, not really knowing what else to do with this new side of dean you’d accidentally unlocked. it was unnerving, but exciting at the same time—the way he breathed through his gritted teeth and tensed his jaw, and how his darkened eyes travelled over your form beneath him, almost shrinking you down with his unwavering gaze.

dean swallowed and nodded back at you, “good. i’m not listening to another word of your bullshit. i’m not a bad boyfriend. i fucking love you.”

as soon as his words left his lips, his mouth had found its way between your thighs, attaching itself to your slick cunt. you mewled at his warm tongue lapping at you, and you watched as he worked at your core with fervour once again, practically smushing his face into your wet heat. he worked at you like he had something to prove, like your words held a truth in which dean didn’t want to admit and therefore had to disprove, not only to you but to himself.

he held your thighs apart with his hands, letting the fat of them surround his head, muffling the mewls and moans he was pulling from you.

you watched his eyes flicker up to meet yours for a second. he still looked angry, and it was almost like he was telling you off with his gaze. lay there and take it. let me show you how fucking good i am for you.

dean soon shut his eyes, falling into the pleasure of lapping up your sweet taste on his tongue, desperately pulling your core closer to his face like a man who’d just struck gold between your thighs. he moaned against you, at your taste and the way your hips began to buck up into his face, pleading for more. he held you down against the mattress with his strong grip, his mouth chasing your heat every time you tried to buck back up.

he’d managed to pull two orgasms straight from your core, his tongue licking up your sweet nectar every time you let go against his stubbly jaw. it was like he wasn’t even doing this for you anymore, but instead now doing it for himself, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he never wanted to let you go, like he was in some sort of trance.

“d-dean…. please,” you whimpered out, trying to buck your hips against his face and shove his head away from you, your fingers pushing against his sandy locks. “please, baby. can’t take— take anymore.”

his eyes darted up to your glazed over ones staring right back at him. he took in the way your face was all flushed and your chest heaved like you’d just finished a marathon. pride surged in his chest; a bad boyfriend? yeah, right.

he nipped at your clit, earning a cry from you, and finally pulled away, sitting up on his knees. the lower half of his face glistened with your slick arousal coating his stubble and lips.

you panted out weak whimpers as you looked at each other. it fell silent, and an uneasy tension filled the air around you both. you stared at him cautiously, your eyes flickering between his. you didn’t know what to say.

dean licked his lips and sighed, a heavy tense breath that added to the thick air surrounding you both. “right…” he cleared his throat and shuffled closer to you. he grabbed ahold of his furiously red cock and swiped some precum from his tip, lubricating his shaft as he gently began pumping himself. a gasp fell from his lips, and he looked down at you, watching the way your eyes nervously met his as you awaited his next move, unsure of where his temper sat.

his warm calloused hand grabbed your leg, hoisting it up against his abdomen, your thigh pressing against his soft tummy. you grunted as he tugged you up and watched as he swiped his tip along your slit, earning a breathless moan from you.

“you want this?” he asked, teasing your folds with his member, tapping your bud with his tip.

you bit your lower lip and nodded.

“words. i want you to tell me you want it. that you want me,” he said firmly.

“i want you. ‘course i want you,” you murmured, your eyes flickering between his in earnest.

dean scoffed. your brows pinched together slightly at the sound, and a small strum of hurt moved through you.

“yeah…” was all dean said before he plunged himself into your wet cunt quickly, bottoming out inside you with a rough breath.

a pained moan flew past your lips, and you felt your pussy flutter around him, trying to accommodate the large new intrusion inside you.

dean’s hand gripped roughly at your leg, still holding it up against his torso, keeping you spread open for him. he leaned forward a little and kept his eyes on your face as he pulled his hips back, before slowly thrusting into you again. he watched as your flustered expression morphed into a look of pleasure—despite the lingering twinge of nervousness in your eyes that betrayed your true feelings.

he held you up against him tight, almost painfully so, as he built a rhythm, pumping in and out of you as loud squelching sounds bounced around the room. your already overstimulated cunt wept around his dick, sucking him in like he belonged there, like you couldn’t bear to feel him go.

rough grunts fell from dean’s lips, and his face scrunched up, his hazy green eyes locked on where you two connected. you couldn’t help your own sweet sounds from escaping as he pounded into you quickly.

dean pulled you up against him more, his free hand now grabbing at your lower hip, keeping you up at the perfect angle. his fingertips pressed into the fat of your thigh and his dick pistoned into you, hitting all those gooey spots that had you clutching at the sheets and whimpering at every thrust. his tip pounded against your cervix; it was rough, and you were sure you were going to be bruised in the morning, but the look on dean’s face and the way he throbbed inside your walls made it hard to care.

“d-e-ean!” you cried out, tears forming in your eyes from his harsh strokes. you felt that dizzying warm feeling in your stomach start to grow as you watched the absolute beast of a man above you rut into you like an animal.

dean’s droopy darkened eyes flickered down to yours, and you swore, just for a second, you saw a flicker of that usual dean softness slip through the angry exterior. he kept hissing and grunting with every thrust, not taking his eyes off yours, falling back into that pussydrunk trance.

“take it. just fucking take it. i fucking love you…. and you love me,” he managed to grunt out, his voice winded from plowing into you like a fucking rabid animal.

“i do! ‘course i do! please!” you whined, feeling your body begin to turn to jelly in his grip.

your weak pleas fell on deaf ears. dean didn’t let up his rough thrusts; he continued to piston his swollen angry dick into your sweet cunt. sweat beads formed on his forehead, and his heavy breaths began to turn into deep guttural groans, the sound only soaking you more.

“you fucking love me,” he moaned out, “but you tell me— tell me i don’t treat you right.”

you whimpered, not only at the feeling of your release quickly approaching, but also at dean’s words. he looked so pained as he rutted into you, his features pulled tight in a way you could tell didn’t come from just pleasure alone. the impact of your words in the car had stung him more than you could’ve anticipated, and his face showed that.

“i didn’t— i didn’t mean it! dean, please!” you moaned out hoarsely, feeling guilt begin to stab at your chest.

“i treat you right!” he snapped, adjusting his harsh grip on your thigh, pulling you closer to him—if that was even possible, and you had no doubts your hip and thigh would be speckled with pink bruises tomorrow.

“i know you do!” you cried out at the new angle.

“say it!”

“i— you— mmm,” you sputtered out, barely able to comprehend anything beyond the warm feeling bursting through your core.

“say. it.”

dean’s voice was low and downright scary. you’d never once had dean be so demanding and sinister towards you, or been fucked so roughly by him either. it made your heart race and your body shiver.

“you treat me right, d-dean!” you moaned, letting the hot tears in your eyes finally fall.

“that’s right, i do, baby. i love you. that’s why we’re so good together, yeah?” he replied breathlessly, now with an air of desperation dancing around in his words.

you nodded pathetically at his words, your scrunched up face mirroring dean’s as you both veered on the edge together. dean turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss to your ankle and then leaned his head against it as he looked down at your pitiful self. you could feel the sweat from his hairline on your skin and the sparks erupting from the minuscule contact he was finally allowing you to have.

“so close, sweetheart, aren’t you? squeezing me like crazy. just let go. i’ve got you,” he huffed out, his voice a touch softer than before, but still gruff and winded.

his softened tone forced the band in your stomach to finally snap, sending a shockwave of pleasure flooding your body. your pussy fluttered around dean’s cock, clamping down on his throbbing member, triggering his own release. he spilt his pearly white load into your gummy walls, finally slowing down his harsh unrelenting thrusts into a mess of weak movements.

“fuck— fuck, sweetheart,” he moaned gutturally and finally came to a still inside you, “fucking love you.”

dean pressed another hot kiss to your ankle before carefully dropping your leg back down onto the mattress and collapsing on top of you, letting your sweaty bodies finally press against each other. your chest surged with a warm feeling at his weight on top of you, finally feeling his body against yours. he buried his head into your neck, his heavy breaths tickling your skin as you panted together, coming down from the overexertion.

“i love you too,” you mumbled weakly, barely coherent as you shook beneath him. you wrapped your arms around his torso—there was no way you were letting him go, not when it felt so right to finally have him against you like this.

“i know you do, baby. i’m so sorry for today… m’so sorry,” dean murmured weakly into your neck and began pressing gentle kisses just below your ear, his soft earnest words tugging at your heartstrings.

“it’s okay,” you managed to get out, letting your head loll back with your eyes closed. one of your hands found its way to the hair at dean’s nape, and you gently threaded your fingers through it. “i’m sorry too. let’s— let’s not even worry about it, okay? let’s just be here… like this.”

“mmm,” dean hummed against your skin, “can do…”

you hummed in return and laid beneath him, trying to calm down from the high you’d both just reached. your racing heart began to slow down into a steady rhythm, and dean’s breathing against your neck began to settle.

after a short beat of silence, dean spoke up in a soft but playful tone, “hey, sweetheart? i just have to say it. i’m not sorry for punching that asshole in the face.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his words and the cheeky grin you could feel against your neck. he was back. your dean was back. all the previous anger and tension from before had been stripped away completely, and dean’s raspy laughter filled the air with yours.

“yeah, ‘course you’re not, macho man,” you teased quietly, your voice saccharine and soft as you played with his hair.

dean lifted his head to look down at you, his green eyes flickering between yours. he looked almost boyish in his expression; no more creased brows, no more curled lips, or narrowed eyes. just dean. your dean.

“i’d do anything to protect you… to keep you, you know that? i’d punch any asshole in the face for you.”

“well, you know technically it wasn’t for me, it was—”

you grunted as dean’s lips met yours, shutting you up with a gentle kiss, much softer than the rough demanding ones from earlier. you felt him smile into it, and you knew all the animosity had been set aside and forgotten, which in turn, made your own lips curve into a smile.

fig yaps: posting this on valentine’s day feels wrong omg anyways i literally wrote the first two thirds of this in like… november i wanna say???? shit lives in my drafts too long LOL i loved writing angry/angsty dean tho like he just wants to be loved PLS my sweet little lovebug he’s so hot BYE

feedback and reblogs are welcome and appreciated! thank yaaa <3

✩ taglist: @chevroletdean @fitxgrld @jasvtsc @bluestrd @1-imbroglio @titsout4jackles @faithfulsofi @tortureddarkstar @abellmunsonmovie @legalmente-loca @theoneandonlystonedspiderman420 @manicjk @aileenunfiltered @minettacreekk @winchester-whiskey @emeraldcrs @freyabear @daylighted @cosmopolitan-thedrink @jwritestuff @suhnisideup @spookyysinsanity @kimxwinchester @bleuatlas @deansbbyx @angelicjackles @deansbeer @artemys-ackles @bluemerakis @misatxox @star-yawnznn @ambiguous-avery @starzify @dulcescorderitas @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @deanswidow @psychicnatural @ghostlyaccurate @k-slla

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[2-shots2-thehead]

- I blinked and suddenly I had a valentine -

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Summary : Lego flowers on your desk ? ..You have plenty of kinda dorky coworkers, but..

Pairing : Spencer Agnew (Smosh) x GN!Cast!Reader (Use of Y/n)

Word Count : 638

Warnings/ Fic type : None !! Fluffy little short Oneshot

A/N : the pics I chose felt so him but ESPECIALLY the first one

“What the-“

You started oddly at the tiny vase on your desk, filled with flowers. Well..not real flowers. Lego flowers?

“Who’s it from?”

You could hear Courtney’s voice interrupt your contemplation. You shift your gaze from the small glass vase to her. You shrugged just once, not taking too long before turning to face the gift once again.

“..’Dunno. There’s no card.”

“No card?”

“Yup. No card. ..Maybe they put it on the wrong desk? It was probably meant for someone else.”

“Y/n, your desk is filed with pictures of you and your cats. I think they’d know.”

You sighed quietly to yourself, knowing she was right. It’s not that you were disappointed. Of course not. It was just frustrating to know you’d have to figure it out yourself. With zero clues, other than the fact that they can build cute things with legos.

“Yeah.. I guess you’re right.”

You reached forward to gently push it away from your computer screen, sitting down to get some work done in the meantime. It’s not like you’d focus anyway. You had some sort of..secret admirer. That’s a new one.

After a few hours, Spencer came by your desk to check on you, just like he had twice a day for the past two years. You didn’t have to look up at him to recognize his voice. You’d pinpointed at some point in time that it was one of your favorite things about him.

“Hey, Y/n.”

Even if you didn’t necessarily need to, you look up at him anyway. You didn’t need to, but you wanted to. Curly, messy dark hair, golden thin-rimmed glasses, and a bright smile.

“Hey, Spence. What’s up?”

“Not much. Y’like the flowers?”

…What?

“..Huh? What do y’mean?”

“Y’know, the flowers. Well, the fake flowers. Plastic flowers.”

You could’ve sworn your brain short-circuited at that exact moment. They were from him?? No. No, he’s gotta be talking about something else.

You hesitantly gesture to the lego flowers, already preparing for the sting of rejection. Well, not necessarily rejection, just disappointment.

“..Those?”

You watched his eyebrows crease with confusion. Oh, God. Yup. He was definitely talking about something else. Seriously, why would you ever-

“Yeah? What else would it be? ..Did someone else get you fake flowers?”

You couldn’t fight back the small blush quickly creeping up to your cheeks and ears. So..they were from him. There was no rejection. Just surprise, and..excitement.

“…They’re from you??”

“Yeah..? I’m really confused- Would someone else make you flowers?”

“No- No, I just-…wasn’t expecting it to be from you. ..Why?”

“..Why what?”

“Why’d you give them to me?”

He shrugged, a simple smile on his lips. He leaned down against the little wall divider beside your desk.

“Why wouldn’t I? You said you like flowers. And I can’t grow flowers. But I’m kinda a whiz with legos.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his wording. He always chose unique words like that because he knew they’d make you laugh.

“Yeah, but-.. Okay. You can’t grow flowers, so you built them. ..Why, though? What’s the point?”

He seemed to think a little harder before answering that one, folding his hands neatly in front of him.

“..I thought they’d make you happy. And-…y’know-…it’s almost Valentine’s Day. You didn’t-..have a-..date of some sort, as far as I’m aware, so-..I figured I’d ask you. With flowers. Y’know, like the gentleman I am.”

It didn’t take long for his nervous state to be replaced with the sarcastic jokes you knew and loved. You smiled softly at his words. It was..sweet. Considerate.

“Spencer Agnew, are you asking me to be your valentine?”

“Y/n L/n, maybe I am.”

Your soft smile shifted to just a bit of a smirk.

“Well..I think I’ll just have to say yes. I can’t turn down hand-built flowers.”

[funnyjb]

We Live In Time

…………………………………………………………………………….

“The treatment plan is this, you are to start chemotherapy followed by surgery to remove the rest of the tumor, then chemotherapy again for the final stage of treatment.”- doctors Adams

Joe and yourself sat in the two blue chairs in front of Doctor Adams. His voice sincere and mellow.

“So, chemotherapy then do the surgery and after surgery chemotherapy again?”- Joe

“Yes, correct.”- Doctor Adams

Joe looked at you.

You were still and quiet, picking at your fingers. Do you even want to go through all of this again? Should you? You knew you had to fight, but didn’t know how much strength you could give.

“How…how long would the treatment be?”- you

“Probably around 5 months.”- Doctor Adams

You nod.

“What times would she need to come in? Does she-”- Joe

“What happens if I don’t do the treatment?”- you

Joe looked at you confused.

“Then you will enjoy time with your family and friends. You still can while in treatment.”- Doctor Adams

“Right.”- you nod

——————————-

You guys were walking to the car hand in hand. The weight of the conversation weighed on both of you.

“Joe, I don’t know if I can do it.”-you

Joe stopped.

“I don’t know if I have enough strength to give. I went through this before. I don’t want to go through it again.”- you

“Y/n, it’s your choice, but at least try. You are the strongest person I know. You can do whatever you set your mind and heart to”- joe

“I just…I will do it. I just don’t want to have my last moments on this world having to be inside a hospital room filled with ill people. I want to be able to watch you at games and cheer you on with Bella. Not be in some hospital room.”- you

“Y/n don’t talk like that. You’re not going to die. You can’t.”- Joe

“Joe! Wake up. This is real. I know it sucks and it’s sucks to think about but it needs to be said.”- you

“I know. Let’s talk about this later, but I hear you and I see you. Whatever you decide I will stand by you..”- Joe

Joe kisses your forehead.

“I love you.”- Joe

“I love you too, let’s go home.”- you

Joe opens the car door for you to get in.

————————————————-

7 years ago

The room was filled with sweaty kids and the lingering smell of cigarettes and weird alcohol beverages.

“Y/n! Come here!”- Lily called you over

You nod.

Wearing your black Jean skirt with white tank top and obviously paired with your black converse.

“Y/n, meet Joe and Sam.”- Lily smiles

Sam reached out his hand for you to shake.

“Hi, I’m Sam.”- Sam

“Y/n,Nice to meet you!”- you

Joe then reached his hand.

“Joe.”- Joe

“Nice to meet you, Joe.”- you

You noticed he was kind of quiet.

“They play football. They are pretty good. I was telling them we are going to next week’s game.”- Lily

“Oh! Cool. I’m excited for the game, heard it’s a big one.”- you

“Yeah, against Michigan. Hate those guys.”- Sam

You laugh

“Oh, Sam, let’s go play beer pong!”- Lily

Lily pulls Sam away.

Now it’s just you and Joe.

“So, you play football. What position?”- you smile

“QB2.”- joe

“Wow! Not bad, Joe.”- you

Joe laughs

“I’m a back up. Nobody cares about me.”- Joe

“Don’t say that! I haven’t seen you play, but I’m positive you are a great player.”- you

“Thanks.”- joe smiles

You nod

The music is loud and the sounds of plastic cups falling keep filling the room.

“Where are you from?”- joe

“California. Born and raised in Huntington Beach.”- you

“Wow! That’s nice. I was born and raised in Athens, Ohio.”- Joe

“Oh! Ohio native, that’s nice.”- you

God, why did I say that. “Ohio native”

“Yeah, very different from cali.”- Joe

“Yeah, very different.”- you nod

“Want to go somewhere more quiet? I honestly can’t deal with all of this right now.”- joe laughs

“Sure, it’s a bit Loud for me too.”- you

Joe leads you to his room. The only quiet place where there isn’t shouting and speakers in your ears.

“I like your room. Surprisingly clean.”- you chuckle

“Thanks, I try.”- joe laughs

You then sat on the edge of his bed. Red solo cup in hand and legs crossed.

“Do you have any siblings?”- joe

“A sister. Her name is Spencer.”- you

“Nice.”- joe plays with the pen on his desk

“What about you?”- you

“I have two half brothers. Both way older than me. Jamie and Daniel.”- joe

“Oh, that’s nice. Are you close?”- you

“Yeah, when I was born they were In college, but I try to talk to them everyday even when they give me shit.”- Joe

You laugh.

Joe kept talking. The more you listened to him the more you felt more intrigued by him. His confidence, his demeanor, his humor, and his features. The way the corners of his eyes when he smiles crinkles up. The way he is really passionate about something he will start to get a spark in his eyes and get more excited about the topic.

After that night you guys kept talking more and more. After a while both of you developed feelings. Strong feelings. You guys became each other’s best friends. You guys would always be dying laughing on the floor about something, holding each other’s hands in public, watching the office every night, and holding each other in your sleep and never wanting to let go.

———————————————

Fast forward to present

“Bella, daddy and I want to talk to you about something.”- you pull Bella onto your lap.

You guys were sitting on the couch. Joe next you.

Bella sat up eager to figure out what you wanted to tell her.

You felt tears pricking in your eyes, but you knew you had to stay strong and not scare Bella.

“Mommy is sick. It’s going to be hard for her these next couple months. She will be very tired, but I know we will take care of her and give her the biggest cuddles, right?”- joe

“Yes!”- Bella

You chuckle

“Do you have the flu, mommy?”- Bella

“Um, no sweetie. I have something on my ovaries which is making me sick. I have to get treatment to make it go away.”- You

“But you will be ok, right?”- Bella

You take a deep breath.

“Yeah…yeah I will be ok.”- you

You giver her a kiss on the head.

“Go play with your dolls, baby. Dinner will be ready soon”- Joe

Bella gets off your lap and runs to her room.

A tear drops down your face. You wipe it away hoping Joe doesn’t see.

But obviously he did.

“Y/n-”- Joe

You get up from the couch.

“I’m going to make dinner. pasta and ground turkey sound ok?”- You

Joe doesn’t respond. You’re already gone into the kitchen.

—————————————-

The next couple months was spent going to game and cheering on Joe. The atmosphere was electric. The fans. The lights. The feeling of hope. Of course there were some loses but you stood by Joe and helped him in ways that he couldn’t.

You did your chemo. Going in and out of the hospital.

One day you were sitting on the couch reading a book. A romance novel from one of your favorite authors when Joe sits next to you.

“We should get a dog.”- you

“What?”- Joe

“Or a cat. I heard it’s great for dealing with grief and life adjustments. Especially for kids.”- you

“Y/n, stop. You aren’t going to die. I can’t let you do that.”- Joe

“Joe! You stop. You have to think realistically. It could happen. And if it does I want you and Bella to be able to have an animal that will help you deal with all of it. Like a dog or cat.”- You

Joe stands up

“I CANT LOSE YOU, Y/N! I cant physically be away from you. I just can’t lose you. I wont let that happen. You need to fight.”- Joe

You didn’t know what to say.

“Joe…I’m sorry. Im sorry this is happening. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”- you stand up

“You and Bella are my world. I fight every day. On good and bad days to be able to be with both of you. To see you laugh about a SpongeBob joke, to see you hug after a long game, to see you read bedtime stories until Bella’s eyes are tired, I want to be with you and her.”- you

At this point you were full on crying.

“I want to grow old with you. I want to see you win a superbowl and MVP. I want to see you laugh and cry. I want to see your smile the second I wake up and the second I go to bed. I love you even when we fight or argue. I love you when you come home from a loss and don’t even want to say anything. I love you so much it hurts. I’m sorry this is happening. It sucks. But it’s real and I need to realize that.”- you

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry this is happening. I love you with all my heart.”- Joe

Joe holds you.

You wish you were in a bad dream hoping to wake up.

—————————————

12 months later

“Mommy!”- Bella

“Hey.”- you smile

Bella climbs onto your hospital bed.

“Look what I made you!”- Bella

Bella holds up a card. It you and her with flowers covering the page. It’s also filled with wonky hearts and a “get well soon!”

“Aw, baby, I love it. Thank you so much.”- you pull her in for a hug and a kiss

“You’re welcome!”- Bella

Joe walks around to the other side of the bed.

“Hi.”- Joe smiles

“Hi.”- you smile back

He gives you a kiss

“How are you feeling?”- Joe

“Tired and everything aches.”- you

Joe nods.

“How about we watch something?”- Joe

“Yeah!”- Bella

Bella cuddles in next to you.

Joe moves over the big chair to be seated next to you.

“Alright! Let’s watch Moana? How does that sound?”- Joe

“Perfect.”- you

“Yes!”- Bella

Joe hits play.

As the movie goes on Joe turns to look at you.

Bella was cuddled into your side. She was sleeping and so were you.

He took a mental picture. He held on to that moment.

———————————-

The door opens to the house.

“Teddy!”- Bella

The dog comes running over to her.

“Hi!”- Bella

Bella laughs

“Alright, let’s put your book bag down and let’s make a snack.”- Joe

“Ok, daddy!”- Bella

Bella follows Joe into the kitchen.

“Want some apples and peanut butter?”- joe

“Yes, please!”- Bella

“Coming right up.”- joe picks out the apples from the fridge.

He closes it. He stands there for a second. Looking at the picture hung up from a magnet on the fridge. A picture of you. A picture of all of you.

He smiles.

It’s been a year since you’ve been gone. A year without his wife. A year without Bella having her mom around. A year since both of there life’s been changed forever.

Joe remembered a thing you said to him before you passed.

“I want you to stay strong. I want you to move on, when you are ready. I want you to know I will always be here. In your heart. I will always love you Joe burrow. I will love you forever. I’m sorry we didn’t get to grow old together. But I’m hoping you will grow old with someone else. Someone who loves you just as much as I do. Someone who will make you happy. Someone who makes Bella happy. You are such a wonderful dad. She loves you. She looks up to you. Don’t ever forget that. I love you. I know you will go on and do great things. Stay focused and be the kind loving boy that you are. I love you with all my heart.”

————————————————————

The end.

Authors note: hi!! Hope you enjoyed! I tried to make it as realistic as I could. I don’t know if anyone of you has watched the move “we live I time” but it’s a great one! Definitely recommend!🤍

[hanniebaeee]

Tied Up

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: established relationship, fluff, smut

Summary: You ask your boyfriend to come home immediately after you read something spicy in a dark romance novel, and he's only too excited to help you.

a/n: Jinnie's 'Unfair' triggered something in me 🙏

You were curled up on your couch, wrapped in your fluffiest blanket, sipping on coffee and reading your newest obsession - a dark romance novel. It was supposed to be a casual read to pass the time while Hyunjin was busy with rehearsals.

But by chapter ten… well, let’s just say your face was burning, and it had nothing to do with the heater running. You pressed your thighs together as your eyes widened. You've never read such filth in your entire life, and now you missed your boyfriend. Way too much. 

So here you were, phone in hand, thumb hovering over Hyunjin’s contact. Would he mind? Of course he wouldn't. 

---

You: Hey, you busy?

---

You watched the little typing dots blink in and out before his reply appeared.

---

Hyunjin: Hey, baby! Yeah, still at practice, what’s up? Miss me? 

---

Your hands shook in excitement as you typed back. 

---

You: Well, yeah. That too. But also… you gotta come home. Now.

Hyunjin: What happened? Are you ok? 

---

You chewed on your lip thoughtfully. How do you even explain this without sounding completely unhinged?

---

Me: Nothing, everythings fine. Just… I’ve got a request.

Hyunjin: Okay?

Me: Listen. I need you to come tie me up.

---

The three dots blinked… and blinked… and disappeared. Then they came back. Finally, a reply.

---

Hyunjin: Excuse me, what? Did I read that right?

You: Yes. You did. I need you here. Now. With something to tie me up with.

---

Another long pause.

---

Hyunjin: Tie you up?! What's happening? 

You: No! I was reading this book, and… look, I’ll explain everything when you get here, just please, please come home right now.

Hyunjin: Baby, I'm so confused.

You: I'm giving you a chance to kidnap me and tie me up and… 

Hyunjin: 😳

---

You couldn't help but laugh at that. You could just imagine his sweet face in all that confusion. 

---

Me: Pretty please??? 

---

Another moment of silence, and then…

---

Hyunjin: So… I’m supposed to be like this hot, dark, mysterious kidnapper and just… do whatever I want with you?

Me: Exactly.

Hyunjin: Oh 👀

Hyunjin: I mean… okay, but this is kinda new territory. Let me… strategize.

---

You raised an eyebrow. Strategize?

---

Me: Strategize? What are you, plotting world domination?

Hyunjin: Look, if you’re asking me to show up and just go full mystery man, I have to commit, okay? This requires preparation.

Me: So… how long is this prep going to take?

Hyunjin: Give me an hour.

You had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but his commitment to the role was kind of endearing, and you decided to trust the process.

An hour later, you heard the faint sound of a key in the lock, and your heart did a little flip. You tried to compose yourself on the couch and waited as he walked in.

When you looked up, you were not disappointed. There he stood in his black jeans and a leather jacket, and dark sunglasses - looking absolutely hot. Holding a silk tie in hand. Oh. 

You burst out laughing.

“Oh, you’re laughing now?” He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to be kidnapped?”

“Yes I did? But…” You covered your mouth with your hand as you laughed. “Oh my God.”

“Hey, you wanted ‘dark and mysterious’ -” he stepped toward you, dropping his sunglasses down a notch, “and I… delivered.”

Biting back your laughter, you pulled him closer by his collar. “So… are you going to tie me up, or just… stand there and look pretty?”

“Oh, I’m tying you up, don’t you worry.” He leaned in close, his voice low. “Only problem is… I’m not sure I know how.”

You blinked up at him, surprised by his sudden shift from confidence to innocence.

“You don’t know how to…?”

“I mean, I can figure it out,” he said quickly, looking down at the tie. “I did watch a tutorial… briefly…”

You were laughing again, but this time you couldn’t resist wrapping your arms around him and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“You’re so adorable.” you mumbled. 

“Hey! I can be dark and mysterious! I’m literally here to kidnap you, aren’t I?”

“Then what are you waiting for?” you whispered, challenging him.

His eyes narrowed, and with an unexpected quickness, he swooped down, swept you off the couch, and carried you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut. He tossed you onto the bed and pulled out the silk tie, holding it up triumphantly. 

“Alright,” he said, climbing over you, grinning. “Where do we begin?”

Your grin widened, and you nodded toward the bedpost. “Over there.”

A little clumsily, he tied your wrist to the bedpost, muttering to himself as he made sure it was secure. When he was done, he gave your wrist a gentle tug.

“How does that feel?”

You tugged against it, pretending to be trapped. “Oh no, what am I going to do?”

He chuckled, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. “Well, you’re going to have to stay here, I’m afraid. Completely at my mercy.”

You could barely keep a straight face, but he was so ridiculously, heart-meltingly sincere in his little roleplay.

“What are you going to do to me?” you whispered, batting your eyes. 

Hyunjin cocked his head, trying to look diabolical.

“First, I’ll kiss you. And then… hmm…” His eyes met yours, and slipped down tk your lips. You were biting your bottom lip, gazing at him.

“Uh…”

You laughed, pulling him down with your free hand, until his forehead rested on yours. “How about we start with the kiss, and see where it goes?"

His eyes sparkled with mischief, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours softly. The world faded as he kissed you slowly, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he deepened the kiss. 

His hands found their way to your face, cupping your cheeks, as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

The whole "kidnapper" act dissolved into giggles as you helped him out of his jacket. 

Hyunjin claimed your lips again in a fierce kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, demanding and rough leaving you breathless. Breaking the kiss, Hyunjin trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his hands roaming freely over your body. 

He cupped your breasts through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, his thumbs teasing your hardened nipples. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.

"You like that, don't you, baby?" Hyunjin whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "You like it when I touch you like this."

"Y-yes," you managed to whisper, your voice trembling. "I love it..."

Hyunjin pulled away, his eyes dark with passion. 

With gentle yet firm hands, he lifted the t-shirt over your head, his eyes taking in your breasts, your nipples pebbled with desire.

Leaning forward, he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently at first, then increasing the pressure. Your breath hitched as pleasure radiated through your body. Hyunjin's tongue teased and flicked, driving you absolutely insane. He switched to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention

As his fingers trailed lower, into your shorts, and your breath quickened. You could feel his touch getting closer to your aching core, your body throbbing with anticipation.

Hyunjin’s eyes locked with yours as his fingers delved into the wetness between your thighs, earning a soft cry from your lips.

"You're so wet, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with need. "I can't wait to feel you around me."

He smirked as he slid a finger inside you and your body trembled with the pleasure of his touch. He added another finger, stretching you, filling you, as his thumb found you clit.

Your hips bucked against his hand, and you tried to free your tied up hand because you needed to touch him. But Hyunjin tsk-tsked, shaking his head gently.

“Be a good girl now, you don't want me to punish you, do you?” 

Ok. Now you were so utterly shocked. There was no smile on his face. Just a deep dark look - his pupils blown and his lips swollen from the kiss. You swallowed nervously, but moaned almost involuntarily as his fingers moved faster inside you, your body quickly approaching a climax. 

"Jinnie, I'm close," you panted, your voice laced with desperation. "Please, don't stop."

Hyunjin quickened his pace, his fingers moving in and out of you, his thumb rubbing your clit in  circles. Your body tensed, every muscle taut as you teetered on the edge of release. With one final stroke, your body quaked as your orgasm hit you.

"Hyunjin!" you cried out, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you. He watched in silence as your eyes shut tightly, your soft walls throbbing around his fingers, still buried deep within you. 

“Ready for more, princess?” His voice was low and menacing.

You opened your eyes, and whispered breathlessly, "More?"

"Much more," he promised, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "But first, I want to taste you."

He gently pulled your shorts and panties down, before pushing your thighs apart, exposing your glistening folds. Your heart raced as you watched him lower his head, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. He kissed your inner thighs, his lips moving slowly towards your aching core. 

When his tongue finally made contact with your swollen clit, you gasped, your body arching off the bed. Hyunjin lapped at you, his tongue teasing and flicking, sending sparks of pleasure through your  body. HUs tongue slipped through your folds as he tasted you, and his fingers continued to stroke and tease your opening.

Your free hand was on his head, stroking the short strands of his hair. You were on the edge again, teetering towards another climax, when Hyunjin suddenly stopped.

"Please, Jinnie," you begged, your voice hoarse.

Hyunjin smiled against your skin, and said, "I'm not done with you yet, angel. I want to feel you cum on my dick.”

With that, he rose to his knees. You watched him strip, his eyes never leaving yours. He positioned himself between your thighs, his length hovering at your entrance. With one smooth thrust, he filled you up completely. You let out a whimper, your hand gripping his shoulder tightly.

You were so tight around him, your inner walls gripping his shaft as he began to move. Hyunjin set a slow pace, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched your reaction to his every stroke. Your breath came in gasps, your eyes fluttering shut as you savored the feeling of being filled by him.

"Open your eyes, baby," he commanded, his voice sharp enough to make you obey. "Look at me while I fuck you."

Your eyes met his as you felt him thrust deeper, hitting that sweet spot within you. Your hand grasped his shoulder tightly, as he pounded into you harder. 

"I'm gonna cum, baby," Hyunjin growled, his jaw clenched as he fought for control. "I want you to let go now."

Your body felt like it's every nerve ending was alive with pleasure. And your orgasm was building, an intense pressure coiling deep within you.

You nodded, a soft whine leaving your lips, and Hyunjin thrust into you one last time, his body shuddering as he spilled inside you with a loud groan. You cried out, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave. 

You both lay entangled, hearts racing and bodies glistening with sweat. Hyunjin grinned down at you, his eyes filled with love and mischief.

"So, how did I do?" He asked, propping himself up on one elbow. “Dark enough?”

“You were okay,” You breathed, and Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Only okay, huh,”

He said, slowly pulling your free hand up and trying to tie it to the bedpost. 

“Jinnie what-”

“Shush. You asked for it. I don't do okay. So let's work on it, yeah?”

You asked for it, didn't you? 

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @nightmarenyxx

[lelengerine]

pairing. na jaemin x reader

synopsis. you and jaemin had always believed in a future together, but as the years pass, and growing up starts to get in the way, you begin to wonder if some promises were never meant to last forever.

tags. childhood best friends to strangers, angst haha 😞, honestly jaem is a little toxic… just a little, the time skips are a bit wide but oh well, no specific prns are used

wc. 4.0k words

notes. hii its been a while TT i’ve been drowning from school work yet again but i managed to whip this up somehow (the longest thing ive ever written here so far) !! thank u my lovely pookies @teddyjun + @pwblant for proofreading this 😙🩷 likes, reblogs, and feedback are very much welcome!

꒰ m.list ꒱

you first met jaemin when you were ten years old. 

the world was still big then, impossibly so, and yet, in his smile, you found a place to call your own. he was messy—his knees perpetually scraped, his grin too wide, as if he were holding the weight of all the impossibilities in life and yet, still finds time to laugh. his hand would reach for yours, tug you into the sunlight, and you both found yourselves running, the soft grass beneath your feet, breathless laughter spilling out between your gasps. it’s the simplest of moments, but you don’t know yet that this will be a forever built on a thousand such moments, moments too beautiful to question but too fleeting to understand.

it starts that way, with the purity of a child’s promise. the world is too big, too wide, but with jaemin by your side, it feels like you could touch the stars on your tippy toes if you tried hard enough. you make promise rings together one afternoon, and his face brims with excitement, eyes alight with the kind of certainty only a child could hold. "we’re meant to be together," he says, "no matter what happens."

“you sound so sure of it.”

“yeah, cause i’m not leaving you ever!”

you laugh at his response, a small sound that’s heavy with the weight of unspoken belief. your hands work quickly, clumsily, folding notebook paper into shapes that barely resemble rings, but when you slip them on each other’s fingers, neither of you question it. there is no doubt. this moment, like so many before it, feels sacred. a bond sealed not in reality, but in the purest of intentions. it’s a promise for the future—your future—and you both believe it, with all of your hearts.

"one day, i’ll start my own company," he utters out while fiddling on the ring you made him, voice filled with such quiet determination. "and we’ll be able to live together."

you smile, a perfect answer ready for him. "and i’ll be an artist," your voice carries the excitement you have, "i’ll have my own gallery and, oh! my paintings can decorate our home!"

he squeezes your hand, fingers tightening like he’s anchoring both of you to this moment, to the future you’ve already built together in your dreams. "i’ll be your first investor," he says, a laugh of his spilling out, one full of hope.

“do you even know what that means?” your eyebrow quirks up at him.

“isn’t that what they call it?” he looks at you, head tilted with slight confusion. “i heard my mom say something like how she was going to invest in someone the other day so i’ll invest in you.”

"fine.” you mutter with a sense of nonchalance, though you were more than happy with his answer. “i’ll have a painting ready for you then.”

“you’ll finish it in time?”

“please, who do you take me for?” you swat his shoulder, but there isn’t an ounce of malicious intent as you do so.

the sun is setting, and you are both wrapped in the warmth of those moments, of those words, of that belief. it’s easy then, to believe in forever. you believe in him, in the future he paints with such certainty. 

you believe in the promises that hang between you, so heavy, so real.

ʚɞ

you used to believe that some things were unshakable. that no matter how much time passed, no matter how much life rearranged itself, certain people—certain feelings—would always remain within reach, but lately, with jaemin, you’re beginning to wonder if that’s really true.

it’s not obvious at first. just little things, small enough to ignore.

the way your messages sit on delivered longer than they used to. the way his responses come slower, more detached, like you’re a conversation he’s having in the margins of his life rather than in the center of it.

the way he no longer texts first.

you tell yourself you’re overthinking it. after all, people get busy. life gets in the way. yet try as hard as you might, the thought lingers, gnawing at the quiet spaces in your mind.

when was the last time he reached out first?

it shouldn’t feel like a risk to send a message. it never used to. but now, as you hover over his name in your contacts, your fingers hesitate just slightly before typing.

you up?

the text sends. you exhale.

and then you wait.

a minute passes. then two.

when the typing bubbles finally appear, a flicker of hope stirs in your chest, a quiet relief that maybe you were just imagining things.

hey, sorry, got caught up with another project. how’s everything with you?

it’s normal, it’s fine. but as you stare at the message, something about it feels... off.

perhaps it’s the way it’s phrased, so polite, so surface-level, when jaemin has never been the kind of person to keep things so distant with you. or maybe it's the way his words don’t quite carry the warmth they used to, like they’ve been filtered through a screen that dulls them just enough to make you feel the difference.

you shake the thought away and type back quickly.

i’m good, just the usual!

his next message comes just as fast.

cool. i gotta go—let’s catch up later?

three words. no specifics. no real promise.

you hesitate before responding. it’s not like he’s brushing you off. he’s just busy.

yeah, sure.

and yet, even after you set your phone down, the feeling lingers—the quiet weight of something slipping, so slowly that you can’t quite tell if you’re imagining it or if it’s really happening.

a few days later, you do manage to meet jaemin at your neighborhood’s café. a part of you hopes—foolishly, maybe—that seeing him in person will make everything feel normal again, that whatever weird distance has been settling between you will dissolve the moment you’re face-to-face, but when he finally walks in, he barely looks up from his phone. no teasing grin, no easy warmth. just a quick glance in your direction before he slides into the seat across from you.

“sorry, i’m late,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “got caught up with the project i told you about a few days ago.”

he doesn’t say much else. it’s such a small thing, but it stings in a way you don’t fully understand.

you swallow down the discomfort and force a light tone. “you’ve been really busy lately,” you say, trying to tease, trying to bridge whatever this gap is. “what’s so important that you can’t even keep our plans?”

jaemin exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “it’s just… a lot, you know? school, deadlines, all of it. i didn’t mean to—” he stops, shaking his head slightly. “i’m just trying to keep up.”

the words settle between you, leaving a space that neither of you knows how to fill.

there was a time when jaemin always had time for you, when he would’ve made jokes that’d counter yours, nudge you playfully with that bright smile of his, and reassure you without even trying.

now, the only thing written on his face is fatigue.

and maybe that’s the part that’s hardest to admit—that you can’t even be mad at him for this. that you know him well enough to understand that whatever is pulling him away isn’t intentional, but knowing doesn’t make it hurt any less.

you nod, forcing a small smile. “yeah, i get it. we’ve all got a lot going on.” and maybe that’s where you leave it and start accepting that things don’t always hold the way you thought they would.

the boy glances at his phone again before looking back up. “anyway, i should go. got a meeting in a bit.”

you subconsciously nod once more, knowing it was the only thing you could do—pushing back your chair with slight force. “right.”

neither of you linger.

once, he would’ve waited. once, you would’ve stalled, finding excuses to stretch the moment just a little longer, but tonight, you walk in separate directions and for the first time, you don’t turn back.

ʚɞ

the last time you saw him, it was the winter of your last year of college. the sky hangs low, a dull gray that presses against the horizon, as if the world itself is holding its breath. the weight of unspoken things fills the space between you, making everything feel heavier than it should. you stand at the old playground, the one that once belonged to the two of you. snow falls in delicate flurries, each flake catching in his hair, softening the sharpness of his silhouette. he looks like the jaemin you once knew—his eyes still holding that spark, his posture still easy—but there’s something about him now, something subtle but undeniable, that tells you everything has indeed shifted.

his smile is still there, but it’s not the one you’re used to seeing anymore. it’s stretched thin, distant, pulled tight in a way that feels more like a memory than the real thing.

and it’s him who speaks first. his voice cuts through the silence, sharper than it should be. “i’m moving soon,” he says, and there’s a finality to his words that makes everything around you stop.

your heart drops into your stomach. the cold air feels like it’s suffocating you. “oh,” you manage to say, the word tasting like something you’ve swallowed too many times before.

he shoves his hands deep into his coat pockets, his stance rigid. his voice doesn’t soften. “the company’s expanding. i need to move closer to the headquarters.”

the words hang in the air, cold and empty, and you feel them sink between you like a stone dropped into still water. the weight of them cuts deeper than anything you’ve experienced in all the years leading up to this moment. it’s as if the ground beneath your feet is starting to crack, a fracture you didn’t even realize was there until now.

you want to be happy for him. you are happy for him, somewhere deep inside. this is the life he’s worked for, the he promised all those years ago, but there's a selfishness in the ache that rises in your chest, something broken and raw that you can’t quite name. it’s not just the news—it’s the quiet realization that, somehow, everything you once held close was slipping away.

“right,” you murmur, the word too small, too soft to bridge the gap inbetween. you hum, as if the soothing sound of it could convince both of you that this is okay. “that’s great.”

jaemin exhales, his breath a cloud in the sharp air. it lingers for a moment before dissipating into the gray sky. “what about you? still planning that residency in paris?”

you glance down at your hands, fingers trembling, cold from the winter chill. “yeah. got accepted,” you answer him, the words barely rising above a whisper.

his gaze flickers, something unreadable flashing in his eyes for the briefest of moments. “that’s amazing,” he says, but the tone is off, as though the words don’t quite reach you. “you’re really doing it.”

“yeah,” you reply softly, your voice small and quiet in the vast emptiness between you. “we both are, aren’t we?”

another silence stretches between you, thicker now, heavier than the snow that continues to fall. and in that silence, you both know. you know that whatever had been left of the promises made in the warmth of summer, whatever bond you once shared, was gone and that there’s nothing left to hold on to.

“we’ll still keep in touch,” he says, but even to his ears, the words sound like an afterthought, a feeble attempt at something neither of you believes anymore.

“i’ll still miss you,” you murmur, letting your guard slip—just a little. if this really was the last time you’d see him, then maybe it was worth the risk, even if you knew it wouldn’t change a thing.

jaemin glances at you one last time, his eyes glimmering with something you can’t name. maybe it’s nostalgia, maybe it’s regret, or maybe it’s just the weight of something unfinished, something left unsaid. “i’ll miss you too,” he whispers, and for a moment, you’re reminded of the boy who once promised you forever.

you let the silence settle around you both, its weight pressing down like the cold that’s beginning to creep into your bones. even though he’s stood in place, you feel the distance between you both widen tenfold, or perhaps it's always been that way and you simply refused to acknowledge it.

ʚɞ

the months pass in a blur, one indistinguishable from the other. time moves on, relentless, indifferent to the weight it leaves behind. in the world outside, jaemin’s success blooms like a flower in full bloom—his name now a staple in every conversation, his face brightening billboards, magazines, and interviews. every time you open social media, there he is, living the life you both once envisioned together. 

and you? 

you paint. you finish exhibitions, your name is recognized, but the colors you use now feel muted, the canvases emptier than they used to be. the passion you once felt when you picked up your brush has faded, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

you remember the feeling—the exhilaration of creating, the joy of shaping something out of nothing. the way you used to stand in your workshop for hours, completely immersed in your work, with jaemin's words echoing in your head: "you’re going to make something amazing, i just know it." his belief in you, his unwavering confidence, was a light that made everything feel possible.

but now? the spark is gone. the excitement of making art has dimmed. it’s hard to even pinpoint when it started slipping away. maybe it was when he left—when he moved forward with his life, with his dreams, and you stayed behind, unable to catch up. maybe it was the quiet realization that you could never catch up, no matter how hard you tried.

and then, one day, as you scroll absentmindedly through your phone, a notification flashes on the screen. it’s a new interview with jaemin. his name, his face, as familiar as the air you breathe, yet foreign in a way you can’t explain. you pause, your finger hovering over the screen, an ache spreading through your chest before you even hear his voice.

you tap the notification.

the video begins, his voice smooth and controlled, but there’s something about it that strikes you—a coldness to his words, a calculated quality, as though every syllable is measured, rehearsed. as if he’s become someone else entirely.

“there was someone—someone who was my strength when everything was falling apart…” his words hang in the air like a ghost, the weight of them pressing down on your chest. it’s like hearing him speak from a distance, as if his voice no longer belongs to you, but to someone else, to the man he’s become.

you stop breathing. your hand hovers over the screen, your fingers trembling as you listen, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to hear more. his voice continues, talking about his company, his rise, his accomplishments—the things he promised, the things he’s achieved, the things you should be proud of him for.

but instead, all you feel is the sharp sting of distance. the space between you both has only grown, so vast that it feels like an ocean you could never cross. and then you remember—this is the man he’s become now. the man who’s built a life without you, whose name is no longer connected to yours. you should be happy for him. you should be thrilled to see him achieve his dreams.

but all you feel is this deep, aching void. the weight of all the things that never got said, all the things you once thought were promised between the two of you, now lost to time. you can almost hear the echoes of his laughter, see the way his eyes used to brighten when he talked about the future. that future, the one where you and jaemin would take on the world together, is gone.

you shouldn’t still be holding onto it, but you are. you can’t help it.

when the interview ends, the screen fades to black, leaving you in the silence of your own thoughts. you remain motionless, your phone still in your hand, but it feels like it weighs a ton. the words he spoke, the things he said about strength, about someone who was there for him when everything fell apart—it all cuts through you like glass. you realize then, in the quiet aftermath, that you never got to be the one who helped him pick up the pieces. you were never the one he turned to when the world got too heavy.

and the worst part? you knew. you knew that somewhere along the way, he had started moving without you.

the promise you made to him comes rushing back, unbidden—the painting. the one you swore you’d finish, the one you said would be the gift that captured all the things you couldn’t put into words. the one you started in a burst of inspiration, with the idea that it would be a way of showing him just how much he meant to you, how much you believed in him.

but now? that painting sits unfinished, collecting dust in the corner of your workshop. it’s become a relic of another time, a broken promise that you don’t know how to keep. and you realize, with a quiet ache in your chest, that you haven’t picked up that brush in months—not for him, not for anyone.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and with it comes the crushing weight of everything that’s changed. time has moved on, and so has jaemin. he’s not the person you once knew, and maybe you’re not either. you’re both successful now, but success has a way of making you feel smaller than you ever expected. it fills the spaces where dreams once lived, and it pushes you further apart.

you look at the unfinished painting again, then turn away, leaving it there—just like everything else. there are other things to chase, other goals to reach. but none of them will ever feel like what you once dreamed with him.

and that’s the hardest part, isn’t it? that no matter how far you’ve come, some things—some people—were just never meant to be part of the journey anymore.

ʚɞ

years later, you find yourself walking through the streets of your hometown, your footsteps tracing familiar paths, the cracks in the pavement as unchanged as the memories that flood your mind. you hadn't planned to come back, but here you are. the air is colder than you remembered, but the sharpness of it doesn’t seem to matter. you pass by the old playground, its rusted swings creaking in the breeze, the slides faded and worn. it looks smaller now, as if the world around it has grown while the playground itself has been stuck in time. it’s a place you thought you would leave behind, but it’s here, pulling you in, drawing you back to moments that felt like they happened in another lifetime.

you stop in front of the old oak tree where you and jaemin once carved your initials. the bark has thickened, the edges of your names smoothed over by time. you touch it softly, your fingers brushing the faded markings, and for a split second, it reminds you of the memories that you once cherished.

and then, you see him.

jaemin stands at the far end of the playground, leaning against the fence with the same casual ease that used to make your heart flutter. it’s like he’s always been here, like he never left. his hair is longer now, tousled in a way that makes him look even more like the boy you used to know. and then, when he sees you, his face softens, and that familiar warmth washes over him—his smile, the one that used to make everything feel right in the world, is there again, lighting up his features.

for a brief, fleeting moment, it’s as if time has folded back on itself, and the years that separated you two dissolve into nothing.

“hey,” jaemin says, his voice tentative, the uncertainty hanging in the air like a fragile thread between you both. it’s the first time you’ve seen him in what feels like forever, and there’s something in his eyes that makes your chest tighten—a mix of longing and regret, as though he’s unsure whether to close the distance between you or leave it untouched.

“hey,” you reply, mimicking his words, but your voice catches somewhere in the space between the past and the present. it’s hard to place exactly what has changed, but the distance between you feels palpable now, like something invisible has grown taller and thicker between you two, despite how much you wish it hadn’t.

you stand there, side by side, the silence settling in like an old, familiar weight. neither of you knows what to say. there are so many things you both left unsaid, words that were swallowed in the years that passed, left to wither in the spaces between your conversations. but now, in this quiet moment, it all feels too big to address—too overwhelming to pull to the surface.

“i—uh, you look good,” jaemin says after a long pause, his voice still unsure, but there’s a tenderness in the way he speaks. it’s like he’s searching for something—validation, perhaps, or maybe just a sign that you’re still the person he remembers.

you look at him for a moment, taking in the boy who used to be everything to you. he’s still beautiful in a way that pulls at your heartstrings, but everything has changed, and you know it. you feel it in the way your gaze lingers on him a little longer than it should, as if your mind is still trying to piece together who he is now, who you both have become.

“so do you,” you finally reply, but your words feel hollow, even though you mean them. you know he looks good. you know he’s still jaemin, still the boy you used to hold so close. but the things that used to make you feel like you belonged together, the unspoken bond you shared, they’re gone. you feel it in the pit of your stomach—the ache of time pulling you both in opposite directions, the weight of what once was slipping through your fingers.

the quiet stretches again, thick and heavy, and you both seem to be standing on the edge of something too fragile to touch. there’s so much you want to say, so many things left unresolved. but you realize, in that moment, that there’s no going back.

no amount of time, no amount of silence, will ever give you the answers you’re looking for. the past—your shared moments, your dreams, the friendship that once felt like home—is something that has already faded, even if it still lingers in the corners of your heart.

the chill in the air grows sharper, but it doesn’t matter. you want to step forward, to bridge the gap between you both, but you know better than to reopen a wound that had already been stitched up.

jaemin shifts slightly, his hands slipping into his pockets, his eyes flickering toward the ground as if he’s lost in his own thoughts. you watch him for a moment, wondering if he feels the same ache in his chest, the same pull between wanting to move forward and holding on to what was.

“i should go,” you say finally, breaking the silence. the words are out before you even realize you’ve said them, but they feel necessary, like the only way to close this chapter.

jaemin nods, his smile faltering for just a second. “yeah, me too.”

and just like that, you turn away, the ache in your chest a quiet reminder that no matter how much you want to hold on to what was, some things are meant to fade, even if it hurts to let them go.

you walk away, and the footsteps behind you feel like the final acknowledgment of the future you both said goodbye to.

[pastlivesxpastlie]

Get Below Me Vol 2 ❣️

Summary: It’s Valentines Day and sweet simp!roommate!Vessel (our beloved) bares his souls a little in hopes of loosening you up…and shows a bit of a dominating side.

Pairing: simp!roommate!Vessel x Virgin!fem!reader

heads up: soft core pornish with fluffy plot - Ves and Reader are still dumb dumbs in love - L bombs - thigh riding - making out - teasing - slight dom!vessel

a/n: A little sexy fluff Drabble. Think of this story as a chocolate box without the little map to tell you which is the smut chapter. Happy Valentine’s Day, sweethearts.

taglist: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @inv3ga @adenobabe @jeriiicho @milk--bones @myaudiocommentary @horsebiologist @intake-of-breath @fruitsandcheese @0hg00dgirl @goosepond69 @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @lynzeequitlollygagging @thatxxjiyong-ssi @cloudy-soul @daddysaidbringthethunder @evisnotok @cheomain @chaosandchaos @sage-m-sepia @dreamer-lost-in-wonderland

Vessel’s foot nudges you under the table. “Did you hear me?”

You hadn’t. You were a thousand miles away in your brain wondering what the night would bring. You were on pins and needles. You were 15 all over again sitting across from your crush. But this time, he notices you. And he wants you. Not just your body like the others before. You. As you are. But in the present, there’s no point in lying. “No, what were you saying?”

Vessel scoffs but he’s teasing, really. He adjusts in his seat, feeling sheepish even though he’s still trying to act aloof. “I wanted to ask you something. I’m actually glad you didn’t hear what I said because…well… super embarrassing. Jumped the gun a bit, I suppose.”

Of course the waiter comes up as you’re processing what Vessel might have said to you. Your heartbreaks a little that you were so wrapped up in daydreams of what could be waiting for you at home that you were ignoring him. Right to his precious face. Finally, the waiter (poor guy, just trying to do his job) leaves.

“Just tell me what you said, Ves. I want to hear it.”

Vessel looks past you and sighs. “Look.”

Oh shit. No good news starts with ‘look.’ You did not fish this lacy red Valentines-fuck me raw-coded dress out of your closet to have beautiful Vessel say “look.”

You nod.

Holy Jesus. He does remember you two live together, right? This is will be an incredibly awkward car ride home if this is going where you think it is.

“Uhm. This past month or so has been…really really nice. I like you…a lot. Like a lot a lot.” The thought of repeating himself makes him painfully self aware and self conscious…enough so that he’d like to lie and say “oh nothing important,” but it was important. An important part of the plan to make you the happiest, safest, most loved girl in the world…and above all…his. If he really wanted this, he needed to just spit it out. “Fuck it. I said ‘I love you.’”

Your cheeks burn and raise into the goofiest smile. You feel like such a massive dork. Oh no…you’re going to start giggling. You cover your mouth to try and stifle your excited little sounds when you see Vessel looking a bit confused and maybe a little crestfallen.

“What’s so funny, love?”

You compose yourself, determined to soothe his fears. “I’m not used to this kind of attention. I promise it’s nothing bad. I…heh…” The giggling bubbles to the surface again. “I’ve…yeah. I’ve fallen for you. Hard. I love you, too.”

Vessel leans in with his elbows on the table. “If you can barely handle me flirting with you…telling you that I love you…I can’t wait to see how you’ll act when I get you alone.”

Later at home, Vessel is still giggling about what a blushing mess you are.

“Hey it’s not funny! I’m a sheltered girl,” you joke, giving him a little pout. He’s manspreading on the arm chair in the front room, watching your little fussy display.

He sighs, letting his shoulders relax. “Alright. Hop up here,” Vessel says patting his thigh and sitting up taller like it’s nothing. Like he isn’t propositioning you. “Pouting at me like a lost kitten. Come here, darling.” He pats his lap again, this time it’s sharper.

You walk over to him and steel your nerves. You’re about to sit on his lap sideways, but he stops you. Wide hands squishing into your hips, turning you to face him. He guides you down all gentle but his face is intense, bordering on stern.

“That’s it,” he whispers, “right where you ought to be.” His strong thigh is now nestled snugly against your pussy. He presses you down a bit which causes you both to moan. “So warm down there. Do you feel good?”

Your arms are glued to your side, your breath shuddering.

“Hm?”

“I…”

Vessel runs his hands up your waist, bypassing your tits because he hasn’t gotten permission yet, and cups your face. “Yes or no, darling. It’s all up to you. We go as far and as long as you want.”

Reluctantly, you touch his forearms. You feel terribly shy and self-conscious, but you can’t fight the warm, yummy feelings he’s stirring up in you. “May I…can I move?”

His eyes light up and he licks his lips, nodding. “Fuuuck,” he moans with his head back on the couch as you start to rub against his thigh. It feels so…so…good. “You’re blushing, doll.”

“It’s…it’s so good, Ves…fuck.” You’re embarrassed at how good it feels not just to rut against him, but to be under his gaze. To see him undress you with his eyes while you get yourself so close to cumming you stop and giggle to yourself out of shock. Vessel pulls you close and ghosts his mouth up from your cleavage to your jaw where he places a quick kiss and bite.

“Such a giggly little toy. Having fun?” He dive bombs your neck in hot wet kisses, encouraging you to move again. “That’s it. That’s such a good girl,” he whispers. “Show me what makes you feel good.”

Your body gyrates hard against him, the arousal and sexual energy radiating off of you is palpable. It isn’t confidence that makes you touch him, it’s a need. Vessel moves to let you grasp at his chest, his abs. You feel stupid to do it, but you feel for his cock and stroke it under his pants. With his head back, he moans breathlessly. You did that. Your gentle touch makes him twitch. A proud smile tugs at your lips, making Vessel chuckle.

“Your hand feels s’good,” he whispers. He pulls you by the back of the neck into a deep kiss. Your breathing and moaning into each other’s mouths, grinding against each other. He breaks the kiss to whisper to you again, his hands moving down to keep your hips moving in short, little thrusts. “What do you want…how does this play out in your little head?”

[toasttt11]

empty netters

September 12, 2023

“All right we are joined here in Vegas with Hayden Blake, A gold U-17 medalist, a two time sliver medalist, leading the World Juniors with most goals and points ever in a tournament, First overall draft pick, Calder Trophy recipient, Ted Lindsay award recipient, King Clancy Memorial Trophy recipient, most recent Hart Trophy recipient and most recorded points by a player before they turned 20.” Dan Powers listed off a bunch of Hayden’s achievements as Chris was petting Archie.

Hayden had joined Empty Netters Podcast for an episode.

“Did that make you feel cool because i felt cool just hearing that!” Chris laughed looking at Hayden in question.

Hayden laughed softly and nodded, “It is pretty cool.” Hayden humbly agreed.

“And that’s not even everything i just picked some on them.” Dan commented, he had a lot of fun researching for this podcast episode.

“Well after all than welcome Hayden Blake to the Empty Netters podcast.” Dan welcomed her.

“Thanks for having me.” Hayden smiled back, she was asked to do a lot of media during her time in Vegas for the media tour but this podcast is one she was looking most forward too, “Was that hard to memorize?” Hayden asked cheekily but curious.

“Oh you have no idea.” Dan quickly nodded his head as he practiced so much making Chris laugh every time he saw Dan practicing.

“And we have a special guest as well Archie!” Chris piped up and the camera showed Archie just laying on chair next to Chris and Chris was just petting him, “Thank you for brining him.”

“Of course.” Hayden was honestly really happy that Chris asked about Archie so much when they were working out details for today’s podcast that she surprised him by bringing Archie to the podcast.

“Okay let’s talk about those achievements which don’t forget is barely even half of them and you are only twenty two.” Dan praised, Chris and Dan are both big fans of Hayden.

“Do you always kinda realize you have accomplished so much?” Chris asked her.

Hayden hummed, “Uh yes and no, obviously i think i remember at times the things i’ve accomplished. Um i’m pretty happy with my career is going so far but yeah there are times i definitely don’t remember the things i accomplished and honestly i forgot about most of them because at the end of the day i’m just focusing on what i love which is playing hockey and i think the accomplishment everyone wants is the stanley cup.”

Chris and Dan both nodded in understanding her reasoning.

“Let’s talk about the big thing that just came out, your contract.” Dan grinned looking excited.

Hayden made a small laugh nodding.

“You signed an eight year contract extension for seventy million dollars.” Dan told, “That’s an amazing contact and right now it’s one of the biggest contract for eight years right now.”

Hayden nodded in agreement.

“Was the contract something that took a while to figure out? Did you want more or?” Chris asked curiously.

The whole hockey world was worried for months now as Hayden’s contact ended last season and there was no talk about renewing and people were speculating trades and it was confusing why anyone would trade Hayden Blake.

“No no it wasn’t me wanting more or anything, the team knew that i want to stay and i know they want me to stay so truthfully i didn’t feel worried about signing a contact right away and before the off season was going to start we agreed we can talk about before the next season just make a deal with the contact than and that was good with what happened with the changes in management over the off season and the amount of changes in the roster. Signing the contact was simple as we agreed easily as i honestly couldn’t care less about the amount i’m getting i’m just playing because i love not for the money.” Hayden explained, she’s been told many time by the Oilers management team that she’s their easier player to deal with.

“Speaking on the changes on the roster how are you feeling about the team before camp?” Chris asked her, the Oilers had a busy off season.

Hayden hummed, “I think we have a pretty good team just looking at the roster um i mean you never know how it really will play out but i think if we play well and just click we could have a good team this season.”

“Speaking of team there are rumors of pranks in Edmonton.” Dan started making Hayden start grinning, “Oh i see that grin. So i’ve heard you and Ryan Mcleod are the pranksters in the room.”

Hayden chuckled but nodded her head, “Yeah Ry and I definitely cause some chaos.”

“Okay how did you start doing your pranks in the room?” Chris questioned.

“Well i use to pull some pranks back in the program and when i got to Edmonton i didn’t pull any in my rookie year and than Ryan joined the team and i had someone near my age and i invited him on one of my first pranks at the Oilers and we’ve just not stopped yet.” Hayden and Ryan and pulled way too many pranks by now.

“Which one was your favorite?” Dan grinned asking.

“Ooh uh probably the one we pulled for easter last year.” Hayden chuckled thinking about it, “It was the day before Easter and we got to the rink hours before anyone else would be there and we took everyone’s equipment and added little colored papers so everyone had one color on their equipment and we scattered everyone stuff across the whole arena and than a left bags on everyone’s stall and piece of paper of their color.” Hayden laughed as she explained making Chris and Dan both laugh incredibly hard hearing the prank.

“So we can assume you’re close with Ryan?” Chris asked once they stopped laughing. The Oiler social media is always posting Ryan and Hayden content. Those two are the youngest and the most willing to do media.

“Definitely he’s on my best friends. It helps that we are both the youngest on the team so there’s that connection. But yeah we became friends immediately after knowing each other and he stayed at my house for rest of the season when he joined.” Hayden smiled fondly as she talked, “Ry is definitely someone i hope i get to keep playing with for the rest of my career.”

“We hope so too, everyone especially us always loves Ryan and your content.” Dan told her honestly making her laugh.

“Speaking of friendships how is your relationship with Connor and Leon especially being part of the leadership of the team?” Dan asked the next question.

“They’ve become family to me, i wasn’t in the best place when i joined my rookie year and they helped a lot and really took me under their wings, even their families are both so kind to me. I am really grateful for everything Leon and Connor have done for me,” Hayden explained, “I think going into leadership it was simple because i still look up to them for answered and i think that’s good for the team to see too.”

“Was it odd being so much younger than the team and becoming an alternate especially being so young when you did?” Chris asked her.

“Oh extremely!” Hayden laughed honestly, “I didn’t even know what was happening i was in a zoom and they talked about the new alternate and i was so confused on why i was there.”

Dan and Chris started laughing with Hayden.

“You didn’t know when you were on the zoom?” Chris asked while laughing.

“No i had no clue and i was very lost.” Hayden’s words made them laugh even more.

“Ok ok.” Dan laughed catching his breath and looking down at the paper full of questions, “So obviously your father Harrison played with the Oilers for many year had an incredible career one of the best players ever in NHL history.”

Hayden hummed nodding softly, they had asked her if they could talk about her parents and she has barely talked about her parents to anyone since they died only a bit to family but she thought it was time.

“Growing up did you want to go to the Oilers too?”

“Yeah definitely, some of my first memories was watching my dad and since i was little i wanted to play for the Oilers.” Hayden answered.

“And you not only got drafted for the Oilers but the same pick as your dad.” Dan spoke and Hayden nodded, “That had to be a cool experience for you.”

“Uh yes and no, you know that was the day i dreamed of for years with my parents and ending up being drafted to the team i always wanted, it was more of a sad day because i obviously wished to have my parents there but i tried to enjoy it because they would want me too.” Hayden tried to explain.

Chris and Dan both nodded in understanding.

“Is it odd seeing so many memories and posters of your dad and his name being in the rafters?”

“Not really, uh at first it was odd being back at the edmonton arena without my Dad and it was like every corner was a reminder of him but eventually it became something i really love because i get to have those reminders of my dad and his name in rafters it feels like he’s there with me when i’m playing.” Hayden honestly answered.

“I’m sure you’ve seen some things about the similarities between your dad and you.” Chris asked and Hayden nodded, “Is that weird for you?”

Hayden has seen some of the thousands of videos of comparing her and her dad, they both play under the same number and she’s got similar moves as him and similar cellys.

“It was kinda surprising at first to see the similarities so easily but i do really enjoy it now because i didn’t even realize.” Hayden responded.

“Speaking on your parents we know you have lived in quite a few places and speak fondly about them, do you want to talk some about that?” Dan asked her

“Well i was born in San Diego.” Hayden nodded.

“How did they pick San diego?” Chris asked.

“My parents met for the first time when they were really young in a hockey combine in San Diego. They became really good friends and were childhood friends growing up and eventually they got together.” Hayden explained how her parents met.

“Now Harrison was born and grew up in Chicago right?” Dan asked.

“Mhm he grew up a blackhawk’s fan.” Hayden grinned humming, “And my Mom from Minnesota.” Hayden also knew her Mom would have loved that Matt was playing with the Wilds in Minnesota.

“And then Harrison at 18 went to Edmonton and Maddison moved to Toronto for school correct?” Dan asked her.

“Yes my mom got her degree in Toronto and then she moved to Edmonton and they got married the next year.” Hayden nodded, “The first off season of their marriage my Dad bought a house in San Diego and that became the off season house. It was that way when i was born and until he retired, we would spend the season in Edmonton and off season in San Diego.”

“So was Toronto your mom’s choice to live there after the retirement?” Chris asked a question.

“Kinda, my parents both knew that San Diego wasn’t a hockey city yet and my dad and mom still wanted to be apart of hockey for coaching and for when i grew up if i wanted to purse a career Toronto would be better.” Hayden knew her parents had feelings she would want to purse hockey.

“That’s an incredibly smart choice.” Dan nodded approvingly, right now there are so many current and future hockey players coming out of Toronto.

Hayden nodded in agreement.

“So then you met the Hughes family in Toronto right?” Chris asked because everyone knows Hayden and the Hughes are family.

“Yeah they moved right next door.” Hayden nodded.

“And then you guys just all became friends?”

“Yeah it was nice because when i was younger i didn’t really know anyone my age and then i met the Hughes and all three of them are near my age so it was nice.” Hayden explained.

“Do you remember meeting them?” Dan asked her.

“I do yeah.” Hayden smiled thinking about it, “Jack and I got along immediately after Jack asked if i liked hockey, Quinn was pretty quick as we just pulled him with us to go shoot pucks and Luke was immediately like my little shadow.”

“How did your parents kinda feel when they realize the four of you kinda became a package deal?”

“Oh they loved it, My parents only had just me for a while and than to have three boys they loved it. Quinn, Jack and Luke all become sons to my parents like my mom and dad adored them and would always talk about the boys as their sons.” Hayden softly told.

“My parents would always talk about their four kids to people and Ellen and Jim are the same, they treat me the same as they treat their sons.”

Dan and Chris both smiled at her words.

“Speaking of parents do you kinda realize how they have influenced not just your life but your hockey?”

“Definitely.” Hayden quickly nodded, “I think i learned a lot from my parents and they influence my life every day but i think people forget how much hockey i learned just from my mom.”

“Because she was an incredible hockey player too, a multiple women’s gold medalist.” Dan spoke.

“Exactly like a lot of people see my dad in my play style but i see as much of my mom too.” Hayden spoke, “But going on influencing me, i think with my parents no longer being i here i notice more how many things they have influenced for me and it’s something i really like seeing.”

Hayden smiled talking about her parents for the first time.

Dan and Chris headed to the next topic not wanting to ask her to many questions about her parents, “So NTDP, one of the biggest hockey programs current and some big names have came out of there, how did you pick going there?”

“Honestly i had a lot of offers but i saw how much Quinn really loved it at the program and when Jack got accepted too i knew that’s where i was going, I’m a family person so i knew i would play my best being with my family.” Hayden explained.

Chris nodded, “Would you recommend players going there?”

“Oh definitely like you said some great hockey players have come from there and i’m sure there is gonna be a lot more great hockey players from there soon.” Hayden answered, she is already amazed by the young talent there now.

“I really enjoyed my time there and i felt like i developed extremely well but i also made friendships there that will last a life time and i think that’s a good thing in this sport.”

“Your friendships from there are legendary.” Dan smiled making Hayden laugh, he would love to talk more about this but they have been talking for a while now, “Okay Chris you had a question?”

“Oh okay why the black and white tape on your stick?” Chris asked curiously as there is barely anyone who does that.

“My parents, my dad always used black and my mom always used white so when i started taping my stick they would try to convince me to use their tape so i just started using both and it just stuck.” Hayden simply explained.

“Alright we do this thing Pass, Shoot and Score, i think you know how it works?” Dan asked her making her nod.

“Okay Music, Morgan Wallen, Taylor Swift and Noah Kahn.”

“Hmm, Pass Morgan Wallen.” Hayden immediately said making them both laugh.

“I have to say Taylor for Shoot because Cole would never let me hear the end of it if i said pass.” Hayden explained laughing.

“And of course Noah for score.” Hayden picked because Noah Kahn is her favorite artist.

“You know what valid.” Chris said laughing.

“Okay we have heard your a big water person so Lake, Beach and Pool?”

“Oh easily score for Lake,” Hayden grinned, “Uh Beach probably pass and Pool shoot.”

“Lake purely for wakeboarding?” Chris asked making Hayden grin and nod.

“This one is four so Bench, Pass, Shoot and Score, San Diego, Michigan, Edmonton and Toronto?”

“That’s hard.” Hayden pursed her lips thinking, “Uh probably Sam Diego bench.” Hayden has a hard time with Sam Diego after her parents died there.

“That is not what i was expecting.” Dan said shocked making Hayden laugh.

“Pass Toronto.” Hayden said easily.

“This is the tough one now.” Chris said seeing Hayden thinking.

“Edmonton shoot and Michigan score.” Hayden quickly said.

“Really?” Dan and Chris both looked shocked that wasn’t how they thought she was gonna pick.

“Michigan is more relaxing and with family.” Hayden explained making them nod.

“Ok last one, Quinn, Jack and Luke?” Dan asked with a mischievous smile.

Hayden just laughed shaking her head, “Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

“No i’m kidding you don’t have to answer that.” Dan told her.

“Well that is the end of this podcast, Hayden thank you for joining.” Chris kindly told her.

“Thanks for having me.” Hayden smiled.

[the-spam-specialist]

Fluffy request!

Zooble and Caine spend time brainstorming ideas for parts together. I think it would be cute! (platonically)

It goes about as well as you think. Caine will still be Caine sometimes.

Brainstorming Session

Characters: Zooble, Caine

Word Count: 800-ish

Zooble sat cross-legged in their room—a cozy burst of shapes and patterns that mirrored their eccentric appearance. Today was special, apparently; Caine had decided to dedicate the afternoon to helping them brainstorm new attachable limbs. Or more like he had shown up at their door and proposed the idea with more excitement than should be legally allowed. 

Zooble sighed, “Look, Caine, I appreciate the enthusiasm, really. But I’m… fine.” They waved their arm dismissively. “It’s not like I need new limbs.”

“Nonsense, nonsense! Everyone needs a little pizzazz! And besides,” Caine lowered his voice conspiratorially, “haven't you mentioned wanting… adjustments?” 

Zooble lowered their head a bit. They had told Caine they had been trying to find parts they liked since they had gotten here. It made sense Caine wanted to talk with them about making new parts. They sighed and let him into the room, “Alright, come in.” 

“Wonderful!” He zipped into the room and summoned a notepad and a comically oversized pencil. “Operation: Zooble’s Bodily Bliss is officially underway!”

Zooble narrowed their eyes, “Don’t ever call it that again.” 

“Catchy, isn’t it? Right, so, let’s brainstorm! Think of anything, anything at all! Perhaps… spring-loaded legs for extra bouncy movement? Or maybe arms that can extend to unimaginable lengths for reaching those high shelves I keep forgetting to index?” Caine’s eyes, located within his denture head, gleamed with manic creativity.

Zooble rubbed their mismatched eyes. “Actually…I was thinking…maybe just…normal legs?”

Caine paused, pencil hovering over the notepad. “Normal? Fascinating concept! Elaborate, if you please! Are we talking…bipedal locomotion? Standard issue…human-esque?” He seemed genuinely perplexed.

“Yeah, like… matching legs. So I don’t wobble when I walk. And maybe… matching wing parts for my shoulder slots?” Zooble gestured to the empty slots on their blocky shoulders where wing attachments sometimes resided.

“Hmmm…I think I can make that happen!” The AI jotted all of these notes down, his mind already thinking of all the models he was going to create for these new parts. He then flipped to a page in his notebook that already had words written down on it, as well as some drawings, “I’ve been exploring possibilities for your new arms, too! How about ones shaped like candy canes? They'd be sweet!"

Zooble blinked their mismatched eyes, colors shifting with a gentle annoyance. "Caine, I appreciate it. But candy canes... that’s not really my vibe."

"Ah! Right! Not candy canes, then! How about...tentacles? They could be all squiggly and playful!" His big, googly eyes widened with enthusiasm.

They shuddered at the idea. They knew Caine’s creativity was always front and center with his thinking, but his mind needed to be…grounded while thinking of parts for someone else.  "Caine, I get you want the limbs to be fun, but none of it feels normal. I mean, can I just get something like…hands? Just normal hands."

Caine paused. "Normal, right! Right! What does ‘normal’ feel like to you?”

Zooble looked away, their heart racing at the challenge of explaining something so intrinsic, yet so elusive, even to themselves. They wished for something that didn't call attention but felt like an extension of who they were. “It’s hard to explain. When I think of hands, I think of… you know, helping, holding, existing without all mismatched confusion. I just want to blend in without losing who I am.”

A thoughtful look crossed Caine’s face, “Ah, I see! Blending in while being you...we can do that! How about we create hands that can change colors but function like regular human hands?”

Zooble’s geometric form twisted in curiosity. “Hmmm… that has potential.”

“Imagine transforming from a soft blue for calm moments to a vibrant orange with excitement! You can express yourself while feeling less out of place!” Caine beamed, his enthusiasm lighting up the room.

“Maybe…that could work,” Zooble mused, warming to the idea. It did sound kind of fun. They liked the idea of their arms turning red with anger as they choked the [%$!#] out of Jax. 

After a burst of sketches and ideas filled the digital air, a moment of silence enveloped them. Caine’s eyes flicked back and forth, a hint of uncertainty surfacing amidst his charismatic demeanor.

“Do you…like these concepts?” he asked, a soft gleam in his eye betraying the fear of disappointing them.

“In all honesty,” Zooble began, heartened by Caine’s concerned expression, “this really means a lot to me. Thanks for taking the time to help me with this.”

Caine floated a bit higher, his dentures shining with pride. “You deserve to feel good in your own shape! I will do my absolute best to ensure your limbs feel just right, Zooble! Remember, this circus is a home for everyone, and you should feel comfortable being yourself.”

Zooble felt a tingle within, a mix of gratitude and relief. They had spent so long trying to adjust to an environment which often felt foreign, but here within the warmth of Caine’s endeavor, they felt understood. For once. 

[jikigo]

so suddenly samael is penny and rayne is iola. fun

[chilapis]

WE’RE SO FUCKING BACK WE’RE SO FUCKING BACK WE’RE SO FUCKING BACK

[lesbiansanemi]

Things to make me lie down and contemplate everything. 400 ppl liking my writing enough that they want a notification when there’s something new

[steviescrystals]

i’m fr gonna lose my mind :)

[flurriethefox]

Okay I know it’s super cliche and shit but I love the “this guy bullies this person cuz they love them” trope. Just like, “oh shit this guy is a bitch I don’t wanna fuck with them” while the other is like “did they find that cool? Intimidating? Am I doing this right why am I panicking what do I do” It’s delicious.

Now shove my blorbo in there somewhere and whatever comes out I shall put on my gravestone.