#i mean i half don't regret it because i meant what i said | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wbbfannnnnn13 · 1 month ago

Text

Motion Sick // Chapter 1

pazzi series

Theme: homoerotic friendship in all it's messy glory... iykyk

A/N: My personal life is a hot mess and I needed to write some therapeutic angst. Not sure where this story is going to go, but it's going to be a slow burn, it'll get better eventually because I'm a hopeless romantic. I just don't know how often I'll update -- might depend on whether you like this or not?

Warnings: cussing

WC: 4.6K

**** Chapter 1 ****

The coffee isn’t working.

Paige knows this not because she’s finished half of it and still feels like her brain is running three seconds behind her body, but because she’s staring into the murky liquid like it holds some kind of cosmic answer, and all it’s doing is making her feel more nauseous. She shifts in the seat, blinking against the way-too-bright lights of the student center, her sweatshirt hood half-draped over her head in an attempt to block out the world.

Regret is a funny thing. It always hits in layers.

First, there’s the easy kind of regret—the kind you can trace back to one stupid choice. She shouldn’t have had that last tequila shot. Or the one before it. Honestly, she probably shouldn’t have gone out at all. But at 8:47 p.m., Amari had sent a text that just said “Thirsty Thursday 😈” and Paige barely hesitated.

She didn’t even respond. Just stood up, grabbed the cleanest jeans off her floor, and smeared on some mascara with the same mechanical energy she used to lace up sneakers before a game. Her limbs moved before her brain could argue. And maybe that was the point—maybe she didn’t want to think too hard about it. About what staying in meant. About how quiet her room had gotten lately. About how it’s easier to make noise than sit with silence.

So she went.

Now it’s 8:43 a.m., and her body feels like it was hit by a bus named Jose Cuervo.

She slumps lower in the armchair, tugging her hood a little tighter, phone glowing dimly in her palm as she scrolls Instagram reels she won’t remember watching. Somewhere in her peripheral vision, someone drops a backpack too hard and her head pulses. Everything feels too loud. Too sharp.

She should be in the gym. Correction: she wants to be in the gym. Correction: she can’t be in the gym.

Not really, anyway.

Her knee aches again, like it always does when she thinks too hard about the way things were supposed to go. It’s not the sharp pain anymore—just this low, nagging throb that lives there now, like a shadow she can’t shake. A ghost of the season she was meant to have. She shifts in the chair, trying to stretch it out, but nothing helps. Not really.

It’s junior year. The year she was supposed to lead. The year they were supposed to run it back, take what almost was and turn it into what should’ve been. She’d played through pain last spring, limping through the tournament with one leg and a lot of adrenaline, and she’d still nearly gotten them there. This year was meant to be the redemption. The banner year. Twelve.

But instead, she’s sitting in the student center at 8:47 a.m., head pounding, sweatshirt wrinkled and smelling vaguely like someone else's perfume—she doesn’t remember who, and she doesn’t care enough to figure it out. Half-hungover. Tired in a way sleep won’t fix. And mad at the world. Or maybe just at herself. She can’t tell the difference anymore.

The scroll continues. Likes. Highlights. People pretending their lives are together.

She thinks about turning her phone off. Maybe skipping class altogether. What’s one more absence in Family Interaction Processes? The idea of sitting in a circle and talking about “attachment theory in parent-child relationships” feels laughable. She can’t even attach to her own future right now.

So yeah. Maybe she just… won’t go.

Then it happens.

The laugh.

It floats in, sharp and sudden, before the doors even fully open. Light and familiar. Too familiar.

Paige’s stomach flips, slow and mean. Her hand freezes mid-scroll.

She doesn’t even have to look to know.

But of course she does.

Her head lifts before she can stop it—eyes flicking toward the entrance on pure reflex.

And there she is. Azzi.

Like the universe knew Paige was already on the verge of spiraling, and thought, you know what would be funny? Let’s really f**k her up today.

There’s a beat—maybe two—where Paige just watches. Where time slows, and everything else in the room goes fuzzy around the edges.

Azzi strolls in like a damn movie scene. Hair pulled back in that effortless way that always drove Paige crazy. UConn warmup hoodie unzipped just enough to reveal the fitted black crop top underneath. Surrounded by a crew of teammates like they’re all just living their best lives on a sunny Friday morning.

And then there’s him.

Derrick Fucking Jones.

Paige’s lip twitches before she can stop it. Of course he’s here. Of course he’s walking beside her—no, with her. Hand in hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like they fit. Like it’s always been him. And Azzi’s smiling—really smiling—like he just said something that made her laugh from the center of her chest.

It looks easy. Simple. The kind of moment you’d catch at the end of a movie, all golden light and soft focus, two people falling into step like it’s meant to be.

And Paige? She’s the one on the outside looking in. The one they cut to for a second too long—the sad ex in the background, watching it all unfold like a scene she was never written into.

Azzi laughs at something he says. The one Paige used to hear at 2 a.m., soft and sleepy, tangled somewhere between sheets and skin and promises they never said out loud. The one she could pull out with the dumbest joke, a look across the room, a meme sent with a single word: you.

And now it’s his. Or at least, it’s being directed at him. Her whole face lights up, dimples and all.

Paige feels the ache like a bruise being pressed. Old and buried, but never healed.

She yanks her hood further down, like maybe if she folds herself into this chair hard enough, they’ll all just walk past her. She’s not in the mood to play catch-up. Or pretend she’s okay. Or fake-smile through a conversation when she’s actively fighting the urge to throw up.

Her phone’s still in her lap, but her fingers have gone numb. Heart climbing somewhere into her throat.

And that’s when it happens—Aubrey spots her.

Of course, it’s Aubrey. Loud, observant, well-meaning Aubrey, who probably didn’t think twice before saying something to the group.

Paige doesn’t have to hear it to know. She sees the slight shift in posture. Aubrey’s arm gesturing. Caroline looking over next. Then Derrick. Then—

Azzi.

Their eyes meet like magnets that forgot how to unstick. And for a second, it’s like Paige forgets how to breathe.

Azzi’s smile fades. Just a flicker. Barely enough to catch unless you were looking for it.

And Paige always is.

There’s too much history in that split-second glance. Too many late nights and drawn-out silences. Too many “what are we?” conversations that circled the truth but never landed. Too much that was never said out loud, and even more that was.

And now all of it lives right there in the space between them.

Unsaid. Unresolved.

Unmistakable.

Paige forces herself to move.

She stands slowly, her knee stiff and unforgiving, throbbing in rhythm with the headache pounding behind her eyes. A full-body reminder of every bad decision she made last night—staying out too late, drinking too much. She grabs her coffee like it’s armor, like maybe it can steady her hands or mask the way she’s unraveling from the inside out.

She nods once in their direction—cool, detached, like yeah, I see you but we’re not doing this today—and tips the cup toward them in a mock toast.

Then she walks.

Or limps, technically, but she’s trying real hard to make it look like swagger.

As she passes, the space between her and Azzi feels like static. Like the second she crosses the invisible threshold of proximity, the whole world holds its breath.

Azzi looks at her.

Paige looks back.

She wishes she hadn’t.

Azzi’s expression is unreadable, but her eyes are soft. And maybe that’s worse.

Paige doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t let herself feel the full weight of the eye contact burning into her back.

She does, however, catch Caroline’s voice—sharp and way too loud:

“Damn. She looks like shit.”

Cool. Thanks for that.

Paige clenches her jaw, ignoring the way her stomach turns again. She tightens her grip on her coffee and pushes through the student center doors like they wronged her personally.

She doesn’t stop walking until she’s out in the cold morning air, hoodie still half on, knee screaming, heart pounding, and the bitter taste of coffee and something much worse lingering at the back of her throat.

Paige exhales a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding in. It’s shaky. Sharp. Cuts through her chest like glass.

She presses a hand to her stomach. Something tight coils low—nausea, regret, grief, shame. Could be all four. Her mouth tastes like acid and disappointment.

Why do I feel like I’m gonna throw up?

Is it the tequila still hanging around like an unwanted party guest? The venti iced coffee churning in her gut like cement? Or is it just—Azzi?

She blinks hard against the sunlight and veers left, scanning frantically for somewhere—anywhere—to get sick without making a scene. Her eyes land on a trash can just outside the library steps.

Barely makes it.

She leans over, hoodie sleeves bunched at her wrists, and throws up everything—coffee, milk, espresso, and whatever fragments of composure she had left. It comes up quick and bitter, and when it’s over, she’s left with her palms braced on the concrete, breathing heavy and eyes stinging.

Perfect. Really killing it today.

“Uh—are you okay?”

A voice. Neutral. Some kid in a beanie, looking mildly alarmed and also deeply unsure of what to do.

“I’m fine,” Paige mutters, wiping her mouth with the inside of her sleeve. “Bad coffee.”

The kid nods slowly, backing away like she might infect him with whatever brand of chaos she’s carrying.

Paige doesn’t blame him.

She stands, barely, and starts walking. Not toward class. Not toward anything productive.

Just… away.

Screw Family Interaction Processes. Screw being seen. Screw this whole damn morning.

Her dorm is too warm when she gets back. Too still. That kind of suffocating quiet that makes your thoughts louder. She peels off her hoodie, kicks off her sneakers, and crawls into bed fully clothed.

Head against the pillow. Eyes closed.

Please. Just an hour of sleep. A pause. A reset.

But her brain—traitor that it is—doesn’t cooperate.

Because of course it doesn’t.

Instead, like a scratched record, her mind queues up the scene she’s watched a thousand times before. Every blink brings it back sharper.

The night everything changed.

Paige turns over in bed, pulling the blanket over her head like it could block the memory out.

But it’s too late.

It’s already started playing.

One Year Ago

The lights inside Ted’s were low, but everything about Azzi still found a way to glow.

Paige leaned against the bar, half-sipping a drink she didn’t really want, the condensation soaking into her hand. The music was loud enough to drown out her thoughts—almost. The kind of bass-heavy, shoulder-to-shoulder chaos that used to feel like escape, but tonight just made her feel stuck. Like she couldn’t breathe right.

She spotted Azzi across the room before she even realized she was looking for her.

Same UConn hoodie. Same easy posture. That half-laugh she only gave to people who didn’t know how complicated she was underneath it all.

And then—him.

Some guy. Tall. Smiling at her like he was winning something. Paige had no idea who he was, and honestly, she didn’t care. All she could focus on was the way Azzi tilted her head back laughing at something he said. The way her hand brushed his arm as if it meant nothing. As if it always meant nothing.

Paige felt it in her chest—tight and sudden.

Not because it was new.

But because it wasn’t.

Because this had become a pattern. Azzi flirting with someone else while Paige watched from the sidelines—again. Because Azzi knew exactly where Paige was in the room and still chose to look right through her.

Her drink hit the bar a little too hard as she set it down, untouched.

No one noticed. Or maybe they did and chose not to say anything.

She pushed off the counter and started moving. Past the line for the bathroom, past the couple making out near the door, past the entire situation she never should’ve walked into in the first place.

And then—

The second the cool night air hit her skin, Paige felt like she might crack wide open.

She stormed out of Ted’s like the place had personally offended her, shoving through the crowd until she hit the sidewalk, breath fast, vision hot. The thrum of bass and clinking glasses still echoed behind her, but out here everything felt sharper—colder. Her hands were shaking.

She didn’t mean to make a scene. Didn’t mean to lose control like that.

But watching Azzi, lit up and laughing, leaning just a little too close to some guy Paige didn’t even recognize, it had knocked the air right out of her. Not because it was new, but because it wasn’t. Because it was the same game, the same script they’d been dancing around since high school, and Paige had finally hit her limit.

She was halfway down the block when the voice hit her.

“Paige?”

That voice.

God.

Azzi.

Of course she followed her.

Paige turned slowly, already regretting it. Azzi stood under the glow of a streetlight, one arm folded across her chest, the other gripping her phone like a lifeline. She looked concerned. Like genuinely worried.

And that made Paige want to scream.

“What?” Paige snapped, sharper than she intended.

Azzi blinked. “I just—saw you leave. You looked upset. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Paige scoffed. “Why? So you can feel better about yourself?”

Azzi flinched like she hadn’t expected that, and honestly, Paige hadn’t either. But the words were coming fast now, her heart racing to keep up with them.

“You don’t get to do this.”

Azzi stepped forward, cautiously. “What are you talking about?”

Paige laughed—sharp, bitter. “Seriously?”

She took a step closer, the emotion bubbling just beneath her skin now, too much to hold in.

“Do you even realize how messed up this is?” she asked, her voice shaking. “One night you’re in my bed like it’s the most normal thing in the world, and the next you’re out here acting like I don’t even exist.”

Azzi’s mouth parted slightly, stunned into silence.

“You hook up with me in secret, act like I’m yours when no one’s watching—and then you go out and flirt with guys like I don’t even fucking exist. You don’t get to be all over me in private and then play straight for the crowd. I’m not your secret. I’m not some backup plan you get to use when it’s easy.”

Azzi doesn’t respond right away.

She just stands there—frozen, blinking like she’s still catching up. Like the words hit her late and hard, like a wave she didn’t see coming until it knocked the air out of her.

Her mouth opens, then closes. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, arms crossed tightly across her chest like she’s trying to hold something in.

And Paige could see it in her eyes—the empathy, the sadness—but also something else. Distance. Like Azzi had already decided this was the only version of them that could exist, and Paige had just never caught on.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” she says quietly. “I swear to God, Paige, I never wanted to hurt you.”

Paige scoffs under her breath, turns half away like she can’t stand to hear it.

Azzi swallows. “I know I’ve been selfish. I know I’ve made this messy and confusing and not fair to you. But I wasn’t trying to use you. I just…”

She trails off, voice cracking on the last word.

Azzi’s voice hangs in the air between them, fragile and trembling. Paige wants to believe her—wants to reach for that version of the truth where none of it was intentional.

But it doesn’t change what it felt like. What it still feels like.

She shakes her head slowly, the words slipping out before she can stop them.

“I can't keep doing this,” she says, voice rough. “This emotional whiplash. I’m getting motion sickness from it. And I’m exhausted, Azzi. I can’t keep pretending that this—we—doesn’t mess me up.”

Azzi didn’t move. Didn’t argue.

And that—more than anything—was her answer.

“Okay,” she said quietly.

She turned, slow and steady, and walked back toward the bar.

And Paige stood there alone on the sidewalk, chest cracked wide open, watching the one person she wanted most walk away without a fight.

She didn’t chase her.

She couldn’t.

Because this time, Azzi had let her go just as easily as she’d kept her.

Present Day

She blinks back into the dim light of her dorm room like she’s just resurfaced from underwater.

The memory clings to her like humidity—dense, sticky, impossible to shake. It sits in her chest, thick like smoke she can’t cough out, creeping up her throat every time she lets her guard down. Her stomach twists again—not from the hangover, not from the too-sweet coffee still curdling in her system, but from the weight of everything she’s been trying not to feel since that night outside Ted’s. The words she said. The ones she didn’t. The way Azzi looked at her—like she’d broken something that was already cracked and didn’t even know how to begin fixing it.She pulls the blanket tighter over her body, like it might shield her from the past. From herself. From Azzi.

I’m tired of this, Azzi.

She meant it. God, she meant it.

And yet—here she is, a year later, still tired. Still aching. Still wondering what would’ve happened if Azzi had said anything else besides “okay.”

The room feels too still, too quiet. Her hoodie smells like stale bar air and regret. Her phone buzzes somewhere in the sheets, but she doesn’t reach for it. She already knows it’s no one she wants it to be.

Azzi never texts anymore. Not unless it’s something team-related. Logistics. Group chats. Nothing personal. Nothing that says I miss you.

And now she’s walking around campus, hand-in-hand with Derrick fucking Jones, like none of it happened. Like Paige hadn’t handed her every vulnerable part of herself just to be told—okay.

She turns over onto her side, wincing as her knee twinges sharply beneath the blanket. Another lovely souvenir from the universe.

Not playing this season was supposed to feel temporary—just a detour. But watching Azzi from across the student center this morning, laughing like she didn’t feel anything at all, made Paige wonder if she’s the only one who ever thought they were more than a phase.

She stares at the wall, blank and gray and safe.

Paige has always been good at powering through. Rehabbing, recovering, restarting. But this? This emotional limbo? This silent ache every time she sees Azzi across campus, like a ghost of the future she wanted?

She doesn’t know how to push through that.

She exhales slowly and presses the heels of her hands into her eyes until all she sees are stars.

Maybe she should sleep. Maybe she’ll wake up and it won’t hurt as much. Maybe by tomorrow Azzi will just be her ex-best friend with a new boyfriend and Paige will finally start to mean it when she says she’s over it.

Maybe.

But for now, she just lies there.

Wishing she hadn’t looked up in the student center. Wishing she hadn’t left Ted’s that night. Wishing, most of all, that she could forget what it felt like when they still felt like a “what if” instead of a “never.”

Azzi

Azzi shouldn’t have looked.

She knew Paige was there the second Aubrey nodded toward the corner booth. Felt it like static in her chest. Knew it in the same bone-deep way she used to know when Paige was about to pass her the ball—without words, without warning, just felt it.

And still, she looked.

Paige, hood pulled halfway down her face, coffee in hand, eyes dull like she hadn’t slept. Azzi didn’t need the commentary—Caroline muttering “She looks like shit” under her breath—to know how wrecked she was.

Paige had just stood, nodded toward them like they were strangers on a train, and walked off.

But she looked right at her.

That look.

The same look Azzi has tried and failed to forget for months. The one from that night outside Ted’s. The one she sees in her dreams when it’s late and quiet and her chest feels too tight to breathe.

That look still haunts her. Because she remembers what came right before it.

“You don’t get to be all over me in private and then play straight for the crowd. I’m not your secret.”

God.

Azzi swallows hard, still tasting regret behind her teeth. It’s been a year, but sometimes it hits like it was yesterday. The way Paige’s voice cracked. The way Azzi didn’t stop her. Didn’t chase her. Didn’t say what she should’ve said, even if she didn’t fully understand it then.

Even now—especially now—she doesn’t know if it was fear or selfishness that held her back. Probably both.

Derrick squeezes her hand, pulling her back into the present. “You good?”

Azzi blinks, forces a small smile. “Yeah.”

He’s nice. Safe. Predictable. He doesn’t ask too many questions, and he doesn’t make her feel like she’s walking a tightrope with her own feelings. And she knows, somewhere deep down, that she doesn’t love him.

Not like that.

Not the way she—

She cuts off the thought before it finishes.

Not the way she used to look at Paige.

They’re walking into the dining hall now, the fluorescent lights making everything look too sharp. Too sterile. She nods along as Caroline starts talking about practice later, but the words blur. All she can think about is the way Paige looked this morning—like she was barely holding it together. Like seeing Azzi hurt more than she’d ever admit.

And that makes Azzi feel worse than anything.

Because the truth is, she hasn’t stopped thinking about her.

She’s tried.

She filled her time with practice and people and pretending. Tried to let Derrick kiss her and convince herself it didn’t feel wrong. Let herself believe that the silence between her and Paige was necessary. That it was better this way.

But every time she sees her—across campus, on social media, in her dreams—something twists in her chest. Guilt. Longing. All the words she never said and still don’t know how to.

She should’ve said something that night.

Anything besides “okay.”

Because the truth is, Paige wasn’t wrong. She had kept her close when it was convenient. When it was safe. She liked the way Paige made her feel—steady, known, loved. But Azzi hadn’t been brave enough to reach for it out loud.

And now?

Now she walks next to a boy whose hand she’s holding and feels like she’s living someone else’s life.

She pulls out her phone under the table, opens Paige’s contact without thinking, then locks the screen again before she can even type a word.

Nothing she says now will fix it. Not really.

But still—Azzi can’t help but wonder.

If she’d just said don’t go that night… would Paige have stayed?

They pass each other all the time.

At practice, in film sessions, on the sideline waiting for treatment. It’s not that they don’t acknowledge each other. There’s nods. The occasional "you good?" in the weight room. A tossed towel. A shared laugh when Coach Geno goes on one of his rants and no one knows if he's serious or just dramatic.

But they don’t talk. Not really.

Not the way they used to.

Not the 2 a.m. texts. Not the playlists they used to trade. Not the inside jokes over Chick-fil-A or the FaceTimes from opposite ends of campus just because they couldn’t go more than an hour without hearing each other’s voice.

Now it’s polite. Controlled. Measured.

And it kills Azzi slowly.

Because Paige doesn’t look at her the way she used to. Not with that open softness, that teasing spark. Now there’s just this guardedness. This distance. Like Azzi’s been put in a box and labeled handle with caution.

Azzi knows she did that. She built that wall between them. She told Paige without saying it that her love—whatever it was, whatever it could’ve been—was too much. Too risky. Too real.

And now she gets to live with the version of Paige that doesn’t look at her like she used to.

She looks right through me now.

At practice, it’s almost worse.

Because they click on the court. Always have.

Azzi knows where Paige is going before she moves. Paige cuts backdoor and Azzi bounces a pass without looking. They’re telepathic, instinctive, frustratingly in sync. Geno eats it up. Teammates praise it like it’s magic. But Azzi feels it for what it is—muscle memory. Chemistry that never really went away, no matter how badly she tried to bury it.

Only now, Paige doesn’t cut. Not really.

Not since August.

Not since her ACL gave out during a pre-season practice—before classes had even started. One wrong plant, one too-fast drive, and everything came undone.

Azzi hadn’t even been in the gym that day. She heard about it from Caroline. And when she showed up to the training room, Paige was already sitting on the table, leg braced, eyes hollow, pretending like it wasn’t the end of something she’d been building toward for years.

Now, she runs the offense from the sideline like it’s second nature—clipboard in one hand, barking out reads with the sharpness of someone who still sees the game like she’s in it. And in a way, she is.

But it’s different.

Azzi watches her during drills, sees the flickers—Paige’s jaw tightening when the trainers roll out the ice, the way she shifts in her seat like her body still wants to move. Still wants to lead.

But she never lingers too long. Never lets it show. Never lets herself feel it out loud.

And Azzi knows better.

She knows what it’s like to want something so badly your chest aches—and to watch it move on without you.

Every day it eats at her. The silence. The space. The unanswered question hanging between them like fog.

Why didn’t you fight for her?

Azzi still doesn’t know.

She thinks about texting her all the time. Writing something that could undo a year of unspoken everything.

“I didn’t know what I wanted back then.” “I was scared.” “It was always you.”

But the truth is, none of it feels like enough.

Because Paige gave her everything. And Azzi gave her nothing.

She sighs.

You were scared to choose her. Now she’s gone.

#pazzi fics #paige x azzi #pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers

524 notes · View notes

mcrdvcks · 2 months ago

Text

— butterflies

summary: You decide to blindfold yourself for the day to learn what the world is like for Matt. word count: 2.9k+ pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader notes: this was meant to just be a short, fluffy thing but somehow like half of it is smut? anyways, this is my first time writing smut for matt, so feedback is appreciated! warnings/tags: blindfold, fluff, smut (while blindfolded), oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie

“Sweetheart.” Matt said, as he stepped into the apartment. He could hear you somewhere in the kitchen, walking slowly and holding onto the wall.

You froze in place. “Matt? You're home early.”

He tilted his head slightly, brow furrowing. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you said quickly. "I'm fine."

He smiled a little, setting his cane down by the door. “Then why’s your heartbeat going crazy?”

You sighed softly, turning toward the sound of his voice. “Okay, don’t laugh.”

He took a cautious step closer, grin widening. “Can’t promise that. What’s going on?”

“I... decided to spend today experiencing things your way,” you confessed, fingertips gripping the counter. “So I blindfolded myself.”

Matt chuckled softly, warmth spreading across his expression. “Really? All day?”

“Since you left this morning.” You shrugged lightly, embarrassed. “Figured it would help me understand you a little better. But I'm starting to regret it—I ran into the coffee table twice already.”

He crossed the distance slowly, footsteps gentle, stopping just a breath away from you. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Good unbelievable, or weird unbelievable?”

Matt reached out, gently finding your hands. “Good unbelievable.” His voice softened. “You're sweet.”

You smiled, relieved. “So, you’re not mad or anything?”

“Why would I be mad?” He laughed lightly, squeezing your fingers. “But you know you could’ve told me first. I’d have given you some tips.”

“Maybe I wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along your palm. “Do you want some help?”

You hesitated, chewing your lip thoughtfully. “Just... show me how you do it. How do you walk around here without knocking everything over?”

“It’s mostly memory,” he admitted gently. “And paying attention.”

You smiled playfully. “You sure it’s not your echolocation?”

“Echo—” Matt chuckled, “I don’t have echolocation.”

You tilted your head. “Then what do you call using your enhanced hearing to guide you?”

"Listening carefully," Matt said simply, lips curling into an amused smile. "Echolocation makes me sound like a dolphin."

You laughed softly, squeezing his hands. "Alright then, Daredevil the dolphin."

He groaned, leaning closer to rest his forehead against yours. "Please don't let Foggy hear you say that. I'll never live it down."

"I make no promises," you teased, smiling warmly at his closeness. "So, show me how Daredevil—I mean Matt—listens carefully?"

Matt chuckled, gently sliding an arm around your waist and guiding you away from the counter. "First, relax. You're tense, and it's making everything harder."

"I'm tense because I've been tripping over everything all day," you complained lightly.

"Trust me," Matt murmured, voice soothing. "Close your eyes under that blindfold."

"They already are."

"Good. Now listen." He held you still in the center of the room, his thumb rubbing comforting circles at your side. "Notice the sounds around you. What do you hear?"

You tilted your head slightly, focusing carefully. "I hear... traffic outside. The hum of the refrigerator. And your breathing."

He smiled softly. "Good. Now, deeper. Listen beyond the obvious noises. The way sound reflects off objects, how it changes around furniture or walls."

You breathed deeply, brows knitting together as you concentrated. "How can you possibly hear all that?"

"Practice," Matt admitted quietly. "And necessity."

"It's amazing," you whispered softly. "You're amazing."

He chuckled again, shaking his head. "It's just a skill."

"Don't downplay it," you said gently, leaning into his chest. "I can't even manage one day like this."

Matt pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, holding you carefully. "I appreciate that you're trying."

"Just trying to understand you better."

He smiled into your hair. "You already understand me better than most."

You grinned, lifting your face slightly toward his voice. "Matt?"

"Hm?"

"Am I facing you right now, or am I about to kiss your chin by mistake?"

He laughed softly, cupping your cheek and gently angling your face upward. "Now you are."

"Good," you whispered, brushing your lips softly against his. "This I can get used to."

Matt's smile warmed, and he leaned in again, his voice a playful whisper. "Me too."

You scrunched your nose in thought. “Think I can make dinner like this?”

Matt laughed softly, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

You pouted playfully. “You don’t trust me?”

“I trust you,” he assured gently, fingertips brushing against your waist. “But I’d prefer if you didn’t accidentally set the kitchen on fire.”

“You cook blind every day,” you argued lightly. “If you can do it, I can too.”

Matt hummed thoughtfully. “True. But I’ve had years of practice and enhanced senses. You’ve been at it for...” he paused, smiling teasingly, “less than a day.”

“Fair point,” you conceded, smiling. “Alright, what if you help me?”

“I can do that,” Matt agreed. He gently guided you toward the counter, keeping his voice calm. “Step forward, carefully. Counter’s right here.”

You reached out slowly, fingertips brushing cool marble. “Okay, got it. What next?”

“What do you want to cook?”

You tilted your head, thinking. “Something easy. Pasta?”

Matt smiled warmly. “Perfect choice. Pot’s in the cabinet beneath you.”

You bent slowly, hands reaching hesitantly. “Left or right?”

“Left,” Matt instructed calmly. “Careful though, there’s another pot stacked inside.”

You grinned triumphantly as your fingers closed around a handle. “Found it!”

“Good,” he said gently. “Fill it about halfway with water. The sink’s—”

“I know where the sink is, Matthew,” you teased.

He chuckled softly. “Just making sure.”

Carefully, you moved toward the sink, guided by memory and touch. “How am I doing?”

“You’re a natural,” Matt praised, voice filled with gentle amusement.

You smiled proudly, turning on the water and filling the pot halfway. “Okay, next?”

“Stove,” he prompted gently. “Two steps to your right.”

You shuffled sideways, cautiously. “How do I know which burner to use?”

Matt moved closer behind you, his chest lightly brushing your back as he guided your hand. “This one,” he murmured, gently placing your hand over the correct dial.

You smiled softly. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” His voice softened affectionately. “Now, turn it halfway.”

You obeyed carefully, listening to the quiet clicking and hiss of gas. “Done.”

“Perfect,” Matt encouraged. He reached around, taking your hand in his and carefully guiding the pot to the burner.

“How do you always make this look so easy?” you muttered, shaking your head.

Matt laughed softly near your ear. “Years of frustration and burns, honestly.”

You sighed dramatically. “Great, something to look forward to.”

He chuckled gently, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re doing fine. Better than I did my first time.”

You leaned back slightly, smiling at the feel of his warmth behind you. “Really?”

He nodded, lips curving softly. “I spilled boiling water everywhere. Foggy banned me from the kitchen for a week.”

You laughed, relaxing into his hold. “At least I haven’t done that yet.”

“Keyword being yet,” Matt teased.

“Hey!” you protested, elbowing him lightly.

He laughed warmly, holding you closer. “Alright, focus. The pasta is on your left, on the counter.”

You reached carefully, fingers finding the familiar box. “How much?”

“Half the box should be fine,” Matt instructed gently. “The water’s not boiling yet, though. You’ll hear it bubble when it’s ready.”

You leaned your head back against his shoulder, listening. “Do you always cook by sound?”

Matt hummed thoughtfully. “Mostly. Sound, touch, and smell.”

You smiled softly. “Teach me.”

“Okay.” Matt took your hand gently, guiding your palm toward the steam just starting to rise from the pot. “Feel the heat?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Listen carefully, the bubbles will start softly. Then louder.”

You tilted your head, listening intently. Gradually, the faint whisper of bubbles grew clearer. “I hear it.”

Matt smiled warmly, proud. “Good. You’re learning fast.”

“I have a good teacher,” you whispered playfully.

Matt chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. You jerked slightly at the contact, covering your mouth to hide a giggle.

He paused, grinning curiously. “Did I scare you?”

“No,” you muttered quickly, cheeks warming. “Well… I knew you were moving, I just didn’t know where you were moving.”

He hummed, clearly amused. “Still haven’t quite mastered that hearing thing yet, have you?”

“You mean my echolocation skills?” you teased gently, leaning back against him again.

Matt groaned quietly, forehead briefly pressing against your shoulder. “Please don’t call it that.”

“But it fits,” you said innocently. “And it’s adorable.”

“It's ridiculous,” he protested, chuckling softly as his hands settled comfortably at your waist.

You smiled, relaxing further. After a few moments, you heard the soft click of the stove turning off. You tilted your head in confusion. “Why’d you turn the burner off?”

Matt didn't respond immediately. Instead, you felt his hands shift, suddenly lifting you up effortlessly.

You yelped, arms quickly wrapping around his neck. “Matt! What are you doing?”

He laughed warmly, carrying you confidently through the apartment. “I just realized something.”

“What?” you asked suspiciously, gripping him tighter. “That kidnapping is easier when the victim is blindfolded?”

Matt chuckled, amusement clear in his tone. “No. That having you blindfolded could actually be a lot more fun than cooking.”

Your cheeks flushed deeper. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he whispered playfully, kicking the bedroom door open gently with his foot. “Oh.”

You laughed softly, your fingers gently sliding into his hair. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he murmured as he gently placed you down onto the bed, “you seem to like it.”

Smiling, you reached blindly for him, fingertips grazing his cheek. “Maybe just a little.”

Matt's breath hitched like you’d caught him off guard. Then you felt it—his smile, warm against your palm.

"Only a little?" he murmured, voice dipping low as he leaned into your touch. "I’ll have to change that."

You started to say something snarky, but his hands were already sliding down your sides, steady, careful. His fingers found your hips, squeezing gently. He kissed you again—soft, slow, lips dragging over yours until your breath caught.

Then he dropped lower.

You could feel him shift, the brush of his nose at your throat, the warmth of his mouth trailing down your sternum, kissing between your breasts, slow and unhurried. Your fingers hovered in midair, unsure what to grab onto.

"Matt?"

He didn’t answer. His breath skimmed lower, down your belly, and your breath hitched as he nosed at your waistband. Then he laughed—quiet and low.

"Relax," he said, his voice rough silk. "You look nervous."

"I can’t see you. I don’t know what you’re—"

Your words cut off in a sharp breath as he kissed just below your navel, slow and maddening. Then lower.

"That’s kind of the point, sweetheart."

You flinched when your waistband slid down. His hands were back, working slow, easing your pants down over your hips. You were still reaching out uselessly when he tugged them off completely, and then—silence.

"Matt?"

Nothing but his breath, hot against your thigh.

You tensed. "What are you—"

Then his mouth was on you.

A gasp ripped out of you, head tipping back against the pillows, hands clutching the sheets as his tongue flicked slow, deliberate. You bucked involuntarily and felt a hand on your stomach, grounding you.

"Jesus—Matt—"

He didn’t stop. Just a slow, relentless rhythm, his mouth moving like he could hear every twitch of your body, every gasp, every choked sound.

You whimpered, thighs twitching. "Fuck, I can’t—I don’t know what you’re—"

"Good," he said against you, voice muffled, smug. "Don’t think. Just feel."

You whined, fingers tangling in the sheets tighter, blindfold still in place, the lack of sight making every touch sharper, hotter. You could hear everything—the wet sounds of his tongue, his soft hums against your skin, your own breathless cries.

He licked up slow, then sucked—sharp, sudden.

"Ah—fuck!" You arched, breath stuttering. "Matt, oh my god."

"Mm," he hummed, tongue flicking cruel and perfect. "You sound so good like this."

You were unraveling, hips rolling helplessly against his mouth. He held you steady with an arm slung over your thighs, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

"I—I can’t—"

"You can," he whispered, the tip of his tongue circling you slow. "C’mon, sweetheart. Let go for me."

One more flick, and the world snapped.

Your whole body jerked, heat crashing through you like a wave breaking over raw nerves. A cry spilled from your mouth before you could muffle it, your thighs shaking, muscles tight. You felt the way he kept licking through it, unrelenting, dragging it out until you were gasping his name again and again.

Finally, finally, he pulled away. You could hear him breathing—steady, controlled. The mattress shifted as he crawled back up.

He kissed your cheek, your jaw, finally brushing his lips against your ear.

"Still think you only like me a little?"

You turned your head toward his voice, smiling weakly. "Okay... maybe more than a little."

His hand slid under the blindfold, thumb brushing your cheek.

"Then let me keep proving it."

You bit your lip. "Is that an offer or a threat?"

He laughed, mouth brushing yours. "Yes."

You were smiling, about to fire back with something snarky, when he moved again. Not a warning. Just his hands on your thighs, nudging them apart, slow and purposeful.

"Wait, what are you—"

"Shh," he whispered, the word soft against your lips. His body slid lower, fingers trailing fire down your sides, slow enough to make your breath hitch.

You reached out blindly, fingers brushing his shoulders, his chest, trying to figure out where the hell he was going next.

Matt's chuckle was low and maddening. "You're really not used to not knowing, huh?"

"No," you muttered, squirming under his touch. "I don’t like surprises."

"You will."

And then he was shifting up again, the heat of his body over yours, chest brushing your shirt where it was still bunched above your breasts. His hand slid under your thigh, lifting, guiding it up around his waist, his other hand braced near your head.

You could feel him now. Thick and hot, dragging against your thigh, teasing where you were still soaked from his mouth.

"Matt..."

He leaned down, lips grazing your jaw. "Still nervous?"

"Only because I can't fucking see what you're about to do," you hissed, hands fisting in the sheets.

He laughed softly, the sound warm and unfairly confident. "Then I'll make it easy. I'm gonna fuck you now."

Your breath caught hard, head tipping back into the pillow.

"Say yes," he murmured, mouth at your neck now, voice rougher. "Say it."

"Yes," you breathed. "Fuck—yes."

You barely got the last syllable out before he was pushing in, slow but steady. Your mouth dropped open with a gasp, the stretch burning and perfect.

"F-fuck—Matt—"

He groaned into your neck, the sound guttural. "God, you're tight."

You clung to his shoulders, digging your nails in as he sank deeper, inch by inch, until his hips were flush with yours and you couldn't breathe around the fullness.

"You okay?" he whispered, voice tight with restraint.

"Yeah," you managed, nodding, biting your lip. "Just—move. Please."

Matt pulled back, slow at first, then thrust back in with a sharp snap of his hips that made you cry out.

"Ah—fuck!"

He grunted, thrusting again, a steady rhythm that made the bed creak. You were so hyperaware, every sound amplified under the blindfold. The slap of skin, the ragged edge of his breath, the wet drag of your body clenching around him.

"You hear that?" he growled, fucking into you harder. "That's how wet you are."

You whimpered, fingers scrambling to find something to hold. He caught your wrists, pinning them above your head, fucking you deeper, harder, each thrust angled like he knew exactly what would ruin you.

"You're fucking trembling," he rasped.

"Because I can't see anything—"

"Exactly," he growled. "You can't brace for it. Can't anticipate. Just feel."

You sobbed out a moan, back arching, thighs shaking around his hips. "Matt, fuck—oh my god—"

His mouth was back on your jaw, your throat, kissing, biting. "C'mon, sweetheart. Let me hear you."

You did. Every snap of his hips forced another sound out of you. Moans, gasps, whimpers that spilled uncontrolled. You could feel yourself unraveling again, tighter, hotter than before.

"You gonna come for me again?"

You nodded frantically, barely able to speak. "Yes—yes, please, I'm—fuck, I'm close."

He let go of your wrists, hand sliding between you. Two fingers found your clit, circling, rubbing just right, and that was it.

You broke.

"Ahh—fuck! M-Matt!" You cried out loud, body locking up as the orgasm tore through you like a live wire, your hips jerking, thighs squeezing around him.

He groaned hard, breath catching as you clenched around him. "Jesus, you feel so good when you come."

You were still shuddering, barely conscious of anything but him still thrusting through the aftershocks.

"Gonna fill you up," he muttered, the pace faltering. "Fuck, I'm gonna—"

You barely managed to whimper a "yes" before he buried himself deep, hips grinding against you as he came, groaning low in your ear.

Neither of you moved for a long moment. You were still gasping, blindfold damp, your fingers twitching.

Matt finally shifted, brushing his nose along your cheek. "Still don’t like surprises?"

You let out a shaky laugh. "I might be warming up to them."

His smile was against your mouth. "Told you."

the title was meant to insinuate "butterflies in my stomach." anyways, weird fun fact about me, i'm terrified of butterflies. don't ask why bc i don't know i just am, lol

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x y/n #matt murdock #matthew murdock #daredevil #daredevil born again #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock smut #matthew murdock smut #daredevil smut

665 notes · View notes

luvrrszn · 5 months ago

Text

match point

STANFORD!ART DONALDSON x STANDFORD! FEM READER

summary art goes a little too far in ensuring that nothing ruins your friendship

warnings angst, nsfw (smut), erm probably a shit ton of challengers inaccuracies, happy ending though no worries

a/n guys i'm going crazy i think i play too much block blast...i see blocks when i close my eyes at night

masterlist

Art was a mean, mean person when he wanted to be. He was the sweetest boy growing up, always making sure you were okay after Patrick teased you, always walking you home at night. But after the night the two of you hooked up, everything changed.

His demeanour, and the nuances of your relationship.

Casual, you promised. It was the only thing he would agree to.

No strings attached, no feelings involved. Those were the conditions he set when he agreed to fuck you.

You'd realised you liked him when you were 14, and you'd never stopped since. So, when you promised Art you wouldn't get attached, you did your best to control your feelings.

Mean Art, who secretly has feelings for you too, but doesn't want to ruin your friendship.

—

Mean Art, who constantly reminds you that there are no strings attached.

You lay there on your dorm bed, cunt still dripping his cum as he redresses, pulling his Stanford tennis t-shirt over his head. You grumble, "Are you sure you won't stay? We can put on a movie or something."

His gaze is cold. Condescending, almost. He reminds you, "I'm not your boyfriend. This isn't what we agreed to."

Tears sting at your eyes, and you feel your heart sink. You say, "Yeah, yeah I'm sorry. Forget I said that. Sorry." You turn away, tears dripping down your face as you hear the soft 'click' of the door closing behind Art.

Still, you hold out hope. You've liked him for so long, giving up now would be stupid...right?

—

Mean Art who starts going out with other girls in hopes that you get the hint.

Even though he has absolutely zero interest in anyone but you.

You walk past Art in the dining hall. He's sitting across from some blonde girl, who's eating something off of the spoon in his outstretched hand.

You can feel his gaze trained on the back of your head as you walk off. You hurry off, sick to your stomach, unable to shake the sight of him acting so domestic with someone he had just met.

Because that meant he was capable of being a boyfriend. Just not yours.

In the next few weeks that follow, he's everywhere.

Every time you see him, he's talking with, flirting with, or touching some girl. You see him so often that you start to think that it's only because that you're wishing more than ever to not see him right now.

Or maybe it's because he's making sure you would see him.

—

You decide to go to a frat party to get your mind off of Art. You'd been avoiding him all week, after deciding that you needed to take some time for yourself.

You danced with your roommate, and talked to a few guys from the frat. You barely even noticed when Art walked in. Keyword: "barely".

You've been nursing a bottle of cheap beer for the past half hour, the music suddenly getting too loud, the space getting too crowded.

You need space.

You head upstairs, looking for a bathroom to lock yourself in while you take a breather. Pushing the nearest bathroom door open, you find your gaze meeting Art's.

It doesn't take you long to realise the....situation he's in. He's leaning against the sink, a girl kneeling before him with her lips wrapped around his dick, and his hands tangled in her hair.

Art, being the asshole he is, does not break eye contact with you.

You immediately spin on your heels and slam the door shut.

Anger and frustration boil deep in your chest, but what is the most painful is how hurt you feel.

You beeline straight for the front door, weaving through a mess of dancing, yelling college students. You don't notice Art who follows a few paces behind, and you don't notice how regretful he looks.

"Hey, wait up!"

You don't stop walking. But you don't speed up either. Art catches up to you easily, both of you walking down the driveway. You refuse to look at him because you know if you do, you'll cry. But the anger in you bubbles over as you turn and yell at him, "What the fuck do you want now? What more could you possibly want from me?"

"I just want to talk." He replies, voice soft.

You let out a bitter chuckle, "Art, I think you've made it clear you'll do anything but talk. Actually, no. You've made it clear you don't want to do anything besides fucking me and leaving me feeling like the most pathetic person on earth."

You turn to walk away again, but he grabs your arm before you can leave. For some reason, you don't shake him off.

"Please. Just hear me out." Art begs. His heart sinks, seeing the broken and defeated look in your eyes. Your eyes had always been something he loved about you. How expressive they were, how they always seemed to betray you when you were trying to hide your feelings.

You sigh and nod.

Art hesitates a little, before saying, "Look, I’ve been a total jerk, and I know it. I’m sorry—I mean, really sorry. You don’t deserve that. No one does. But I need to say this because it’s been eating at me. I think—I know—you might feel something for me. And… I feel the same. I do. But here’s the thing. I’m terrified. If we try this and it doesn’t work? I can’t lose you. I can’t risk messing up what we have. You mean too much to me, and I don’t know if I could handle that. So yeah, maybe I’ve been pushing you away because I thought it’d be better for both of us. I just—I don’t know. I’m sorry."

You take a while to process everything he says. He looks at you with the softest gaze you've seen from him in the past two years, and it finally clicks in your head.

He likes you back.

You finally reply, "Yeah, you have been a jerk. And I don’t think you get to decide what I deserve or how I should feel about it. What you said… I appreciate the honesty. But if you think treating me like crap was some noble way of protecting our friendship, you’ve got it backwards. You don’t get to push me away and then expect me to be okay with it just because you’re scared. If you like me, then show it by treating me with respect—friendship or more. If you’re not ready for that, fine. But I deserve better than games and excuses."

His face falls before you add, "But if you’re willing to actually step up—to stop playing it safe and meet me halfway—then I’m here. I’m not asking for perfect, but I won’t settle for less than real. So, it’s your call. Just know that if you’re in, I’m in too."

The grin that spreads across his face is a wide one.

"Oh, I'm definitely in."

#📓—lexwrites #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #art donaldson angst #challengers #challengers fanfic #challengers x reader

327 notes · View notes

nocturnebite · 12 days ago

Text

Talk flirty to me 𝜗𝜚

(i didn’t mean to text you. okay, maybe i did.) - crush! enha (ot7) x drunk(then sober)-fem! reader

synopsis: You didn’t mean to text them. Not like that. But tipsy you has feelings—and zero filter. fic notes: alcohol use || drunk texting || light profanity || romantic tension (theres like one v small kiss) Nothing heavy, just a lot of secondhand embarrassment and unfiltered feelings from 1AM-2AM. wc: average ab 430ish per member (3.11k total)

ash's notes: i've seen so many of the smau text chain fics about these scenarios and i wanted to try my own so bad.. but i wrote it instead. here's what i think the men would do after you talk flirty to them while drunk.. ENJOY!! <3

[HEESEUNG]

You knew you shouldn't be texting anyone.

The room was spinning just a little, the warmth of the alcohol still buzzing pleasantly through your veins as you flopped back on the couch. Music pulsed low in the background—someone had put on a chill playlist, probably trying to wind the night down—but your brain was still humming, still restless.

And your phone was right there.

You blinked at it like it had offended you. Or maybe like it was promising something. Like an answer. A solution. A possibility.

Heeseung’s name was already in your recents. You’d clicked it without thinking. Staring at the chat window now, thumb hovering.

"Don't do it," your friend mumbled from the floor next to you, eyes half-closed. "You're gonna regret it."

"I won't," you said, way too confidently. "It's just a compliment. It's not like I'm proposing."

In your head, this made total sense.

Because here’s the thing: you’d been thinking it for a while. That if you ever let yourself fall for someone completely—messily, irreversibly—it’d be Heeseung. The way he always listened like what you were saying actually mattered. The way his laugh could make you forget your own name. The way he looked at you like maybe he saw everything and still didn’t look away.

Yeah.

Dangerous.

So maybe it was the vodka talking, or the tequila, or that one mystery shot someone handed you while laughing like a villain. Whatever it was, it shoved your self-control into a closet and locked the door.

Your thumbs moved faster than your brain.

"u’d be soooo good to me if i let u. too good. like. future husband good. fck."

The moment you hit send, your eyes went wide.

“Oh my... No no no—” You grabbed your phone like you could take it back, but it was too late. The tiny "Delivered" status stared back at you with betrayal.

You launched yourself off the couch, half-tripping over a pile of blankets. "I SENT IT. I SENT IT."

Someone in the room cheered. “Iconic!”

You considered throwing yourself into the nearest trash can.

[The Next Morning]

Heeseung didn’t sleep.

Well, technically, he tried. But after getting your text, he just lay in bed like a Victorian widow, eyes wide open, clutching his pillow like a lifeline.

It wasn’t even the words that killed him.

It was the way they felt like truth. Like the kind of thing you only say when your guard’s down. Or when you want to say it but never thought you’d be brave enough.

So now, sitting across from you at brunch, he’s malfunctioning.

You seem fine. Hungover, yes. But casual. Untouched by the emotional earthquake you dropped into his inbox like a shot glass off a balcony.

You sip your iced coffee, completely unaware.

Heeseung, meanwhile, is sweating bullets.

You look up. “You okay?”

He panics. “Do you really think I’m ‘husband good’ or were you just drunk?!”

The fork freezes halfway to your mouth.

“…Wait,” you blink, “I actually sent that?”

He just nods.

You groan and immediately hide your face behind your hands. “No. Nope. I’m deleting my number. I’m leaving the country. I’m—”

He cuts you off, voice cracking: “But like… did you mean it?”

You peek between your fingers. “Do you want me to have meant it?”

“Yeah,” he says, way too fast. Then adds, softer, “Yeah. I really do.”

You go quiet.

Then you toss your napkin at his face. “Okay. But next time I say something stupid like that, pretend I didn’t. Unless I say it sober. Which I might. Later. Maybe.”

Heeseung grins so hard he can’t stop. “So… dinner tomorrow?”

You sigh dramatically. “Fine. But only because you're husband good.”

[JAY]

You weren’t supposed to text him.

You even said it out loud—“I’m not gonna text him.” You looked your friend dead in the eyes and promised. But that was three shots ago.

Now, you’re leaning on a sticky bar table, warm with tequila and terrible judgment, staring at Jay’s contact name like it personally offended you.

He’s just so… rude.

For existing. For being that effortlessly hot. For wearing those stupid button-downs like he doesn’t know what they do to you.

You bite your lip. Squint at your phone. Your thumbs move.

“you’re so hot it’s rude.”“if you called me baby just once i’d combust.”

Send.

You blink.

Your friend next to you lets out a horrified gasp. “YOU DIDN’T.”

You grip her arm. “I DID.”

You both scream into the void of your jackets.

[Meanwhile: Jay]

Jay’s at home. In bed. Reading a book like a responsible adult. Literally sipping tea.

And then—

Buzz.

He glances at his phone. Sees your name.

Unlocks the screen. Reads. Stares.

He sits up so fast he spills his tea.

“Excuse me??”

He reads it again. Then a third time. Then he sets his phone down and just stares into space like the ceiling will have answers.

You. Called him hot.

You. Want him to call you baby.

His brain blue-screens.

But instead of replying like a normal person, Jay decides to play the long game. If you wanna combust?

Fine.

He’ll light the match slowly.

[The Next Day]

You’ve mentally prepared to be ignored. Ghosted, maybe. Or worse—laughed at.

Instead, Jay is completely… normal. Maybe too normal.

“Hey,” he greets when he walks in, casual, like you didn’t tell him you wanted to explode over one word.

You try to act cool. You’re failing. “Hey.”

He sits next to you. Says nothing suspicious. You start to relax.

And then, out of nowhere—

“Hey, baby—pass me that bottle?”

Time stops.

Your hands freeze mid-air. Your breath catches. You whip your head toward him so fast it’s a miracle you don’t get whiplash.

He’s not even looking at you. Just sipping from his water bottle. Calm. Untouched.

You hand him the bottle with trembling fingers.

He meets your eyes. Smirking.

“What? That’s what you wanted, right?”

Your soul LEAVES your body. You’re floating. Ascending. Actively combusting.

Jay just leans back and adds, casually, “Guess I’m kinda rude like that.”

You want to scream. Instead, you knock back the rest of your drink and mutter, “I hate you.”

He grins. “You love me.”

You don’t answer.

Because yeah.

Yeah, you do.

[JAKE]

The night started normal.

You weren’t even that drunk. Just enough to feel brave. Warm. A little too in love with the sound of Jake’s laugh in your memory. And definitely a little too in love with the way he looked earlier that day—smiling at something on his phone, lips all plush and pink, like—

No. Nope.

Bad idea.

You shouldn't text him.

So, naturally, you do.

“thinking about how kissable your mouth is. don’t hate me.” Sent: 2:13AM.

You immediately throw your phone under your pillow like it might explode.

[Meanwhile: Jake]

Jake is a soft sleeper. Usually. But his phone buzzes and something makes him check it, just in case it’s you.

It is.

He unlocks it. Reads the message.

Then reads it again.

Then sits up so fast he smacks his head on the headboard.

“…kissable??”

He stares at the message like it’s a bomb.

His heart is racing. His whole face is burning. He starts typing.

"hey i—" No. Delete. "you’re drunk lol—" Delete. "😳" Delete. Immediately.

He flops onto the floor and starts doing push-ups.

For no reason.

Then lies there in existential agony for twenty full minutes.

[The Next Day]

You wake up, check your messages, and nearly perish on the spot.

“thinking about how kissable your mouth is. don’t hate me.” Sent 2:13 AM.

Oh god. Oh god. You sent it. It wasn’t a dream. It’s right there. And worst of all?

He didn’t reply.

You put your phone face down and spend the entire day pretending nothing happened. If you don’t acknowledge it, maybe it’ll disappear. Maybe you’ll disappear.

Jake, on the other hand?

He hasn’t stopped thinking about it since 2:13AM.

He glances at you a dozen times. Opens his mouth to say something. Closes it. Runs a hand through his hair like he’s trying to physically shake the blush off his face.

But finally, when you’re alone, it happens.

You’re reaching for something—completely casual—when his fingers wrap gently around your wrist.

You freeze.

He leans in, voice barely above a whisper.

“…did you mean it? The text?”

You want to lie. To laugh. To fake a glitch and throw yourself out a window.

But something in his eyes stops you.

So you nod. Tiny. Embarrassed. Absolutely dying inside.

Jake’s lips part like he’s gonna say something—and then he doesn’t.

He just smiles. All sweet and pink-cheeked and sunshine-soft.

“Cool,” he murmurs. “Because I’ve been thinking about kissing you for, like… a year.”

You black out for approximately three seconds.

[SUNGHOON]

The party’s over. Most people are gone. You’re curled up on someone’s couch with a blanket draped over your shoulders, head just fuzzy enough from the drinks to feel bold. Loose-tongued. Dangerous.

Your friends are whispering, laughing about their own drama, and all you can think about is him.

Sunghoon.

The way he looked earlier—black hoodie, hair a little messy, that lazy smile that made your heart skip so violently you almost tripped over your own feet. He always gets to you like that. It's unfair.

You reach for your phone before your brain can stop you.

“if we kissed rn i’d literally melt into a puddle. you’re my crush fr.” Sent: 1:49AM.

You stare. Blank screen. No reply. A tiny voice in your head screams.

You immediately toss your phone across the room like it bit you.

“WHY DID I DO THAT,” you whisper.

No one hears you. You sink deeper into the couch like maybe you can dissolve from shame.

[Meanwhile: Sunghoon]

Sunghoon’s in bed.

The room is quiet. He’s mid-scroll, not even thinking, when his phone buzzes.

He sees your name and sits up straighter.

Then he reads it.

Once. Twice. Ten times.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. Just stares at the screen like it's a hallucination.

“you’re my crush fr.”

His brain blue-screens. Full system shutdown. He throws his phone across the bed. Paces. Picks it back up. Drops it. Groans into his hands.

No response. He doesn't know how to respond. Anything he writes feels like a mistake. So he just... doesn’t.

[The Next Morning]

You show up like nothing happened. Clean face. Calm voice. Holding a drink like you didn't drop a nuclear-level crush confession at 2AM.

Sunghoon?

He’s suffering.

He’s fidgety. Red in the ears. Won’t meet your eyes. Every time you speak, he looks like he’s being punished.

You try to pretend nothing happened, but the tension is suffocating.

Finally, he snaps.

He pulls you aside, hand gentle but firm on your arm. You blink up at him, and his eyes are serious.

“You can’t just call me your crush and then act normal.”

You freeze.

“Now I’m gonna think about kissing you all the time. Is that what you want?”

Your heart stops.

His voice is quiet. Honest. It doesn’t sound like teasing. It sounds like a confession he didn’t mean to let slip.

You don’t answer.

You just step closer.

Lift your hand to his jaw.

And kiss him.

It’s soft at first—tentative. Questioning. But he kisses you back like he’s been waiting for this for months.

Like he’s melting, too.

[SUNOO]

You’re lying on the floor at a friend’s apartment, half-wrapped in a blanket, heart full of secrets, and head full of wine. Everything feels fuzzy around the edges. Soft. Warm. A little too honest.

Your friend is talking about their ex or their situationship or their ick list—you’re not really listening. Because all you can think about is him.

Sunoo. With his annoying-cute laugh and perfect skin and the way he always makes you feel like you’re the main character even when you’re doing something stupid, like eating cereal out of a mug.

You pull out your phone and type without thinking.

“you’re like… soulmate coded. i’d marry u. i’m not even kidding.”

You stare at the message. Nod. Drunken logic says this is completely reasonable.

Then you send it.

And roll over like nothing happened.

[Meanwhile: Sunoo]

Sunoo’s phone dings.

He’s mid-skincare routine, face mask on, vibing to his playlist. He glances at the screen, sees your name—and pauses.

Reads the message.

“you’re like… soulmate coded. i’d marry u. i’m not even kidding.”

He screams.

Like, actually screams. Loud. Hands over his face. Pacing like he’s in a K-drama montage. Whole monologue happening in his head:

“WAIT WHAT? SHE SAID MARRY. MARRY???”

He clutches his chest. Looks in the mirror. Whispers, “Don’t make it weird. Be normal. Be normal.”

He is not normal.

He doesn’t reply.

He needs time to process.

[The Next Day]

You wake up, mildly hungover and completely in denial. You check your messages, see the text, and feel your entire soul evacuate your body.

No response. Thank goodness. Maybe he didn’t see it.

You go about your day pretending it never happened. Totally fine. Not spiraling. At all.

Then you walk into the room—and he’s grinning.

Sunoo sidles up to you, all innocent eyes and sunshine mischief.

“…so when’s the wedding?”

You choke.

Your brain short-circuits. You blink at him.

He giggles like it’s a joke. Like it’s nothing.

But then—

He stops. Looks at you properly.

And in the softest, most genuine voice you’ve ever heard, he says:

“But for real… do you like me? Because I’ve liked you forever.”

The world goes quiet.

No teasing. No drama.

Just the boy who’s always been there, waiting for you to notice.

And you?

You nod. Speechless. Stupidly, hopelessly, incredibly in love.

[JUNGWON]

You don’t plan to get drunk tonight.

It’s just supposed to be a casual thing—laughs with friends, a drink or two. But three drinks in, you’re warm and soft around the edges. The music feels louder, your heart lighter. Someone mentions crushes, and you laugh along, but your mind is elsewhere.

It always is.

Jungwon.

His name hasn’t left your thoughts all night. You think about how his smile looks when he’s trying not to laugh. How he always remembers the little things—your favorite snack, that one song you like, the way you hate your coffee too sweet.

And it hits you all at once. This ache. This gnawing little thought that’s been building for months now.

He isn’t yours.

You want him to be, more than anything. But he’s not.

And that’s when you pull out your phone.

You hesitate. Fingers hover over the screen. You know you shouldn’t. You know.

But the wine says, “What if he feels the same?”

And that tiny hope wins.

“dreamt u were mine. woke up mad. why aren’t u mine???” Sent: 1:06AM.

You drop your phone like it’s on fire. Bury your face in your hands.

“Oh my gosh. Oh my GOSH—”

You don’t check if he sees it. You don’t even say goodnight. You just stumble home and crawl into bed, praying the earth swallows you before morning.

[Jungwon]

He’s in bed when it lights up.

He sees your name and smiles instinctively. He always does.

Then he reads the text.

And the smile drops.

“Dreamt u were mine… why aren’t u mine?”

He blinks. Reads it again.

Then again.

He sits up slowly, like the words physically hit him.

His chest tightens. His heart’s racing. He tries to think of what to say—how to answer—but every message he drafts sounds either too casual or too desperate.

He wants to call you.

Wants to knock on your door and say, “Me. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”

But he doesn’t.

He just sits there, re-reading those words, like they’re a secret he’s been waiting his whole life to hear.

[The Next Time You See Him]

You pretend nothing happened. Try to act normal. But your stomach is twisting in knots every time he looks at you—and he’s looking at you a lot.

He’s fidgety. Not his usual calm, polished self. He stumbles over his words, drops his phone twice, nearly walks into a wall.

You finally corner him.

“Are you okay? You’re acting weird.”

He swallows. Hard. Doesn’t quite meet your eyes.

Then quietly, like he’s been holding it in all day:

“Do you really want me to be yours?”

You freeze.

He’s blushing, but he doesn’t back down. He finally looks at you—open, uncertain, hopeful.

“Because… I already am. I just didn’t think you felt the same.”

And it’s so simple. So honest. No games. Just him.

You step closer.

And all you can think is, mine.

So you whisper:

“I do.”

And the way he smiles—like the sun finally came out—it feels like a dream.

Only this time, you’re both awake for it.

[NI-KI]

It starts, as it always does, with a drink. Then two. Then someone dares you to send a risky text.

“Bet you won’t.”

You scoff. You will. Of course you will.

Unfortunately, the person your wine-soaked heart chooses is Ni-ki.

Tall. Chaotic. Unfairly attractive Ni-ki who always knows exactly how to get under your skin—and worse, knows he’s hot.

Your brain is like: “Don’t do it.”

Your fingers are like: “Too late.”

“heyy hottie. u’re so fcking hot i hate u. hot hot hot. it’s stupid how hot u are. stupidly hot.” Sent: 1:04AM.

You toss your phone across the bed and scream into your pillow.

He doesn’t reply. Thank god. You can pretend it didn’t happen.

(You absolutely cannot pretend it didn’t happen.)

[Ni-ki, Upon Receiving This Work of Art]

He’s gaming. Mind completely elsewhere. Phone buzzes.

He glances at the screen. Sees your name. Smirks.

Then reads the message.

“hottie. hot. hot. hot. hot. stupid. hot. stupidly. hot.”

He scrolls.

Counts.

Seven times.

“Damn,” he mutters, grinning.

He doesn’t reply. He waits. Lets it marinate. He knows you’re spiraling.

And he can’t wait to see you.

[The Next Time You See Him]

He’s already smiling when you walk in.

Smug. Smirky. Arms crossed.

“Hey…”

You narrow your eyes. You know that tone.

“Am I still stupid hot? Or did you sober up?”

You groan. Cover your face. “I hate you.”

He just laughs—so proud of himself.

“You said it SEVEN times.”

You smack his arm. He lives for it. Leans in close, voice dropping just enough to make you nervous.

“For the record… you’re hot too. Ridiculously.”

You freeze.

He grins.

“What? Gotta even the score.”

And before you can recover, he’s already walking off, calling over his shoulder—

“Let me know if I hit eight next time.”

You might actually combust.

tl: (read rules before asking to be added to any list ᥫ᭡. )

155 notes · View notes

stanart4clearskin · 6 months ago

Text

ceo!art donaldson x reader

a/n: this was not proofread at all

as CEO of the company, it was common for art to host work parties at his penthouse. for him it meant that on occasion his rather empty home was filled with people that he enjoyed to be around. it was also a great excuse to persuade you into staying the night because he claimed that you were far too drunk to drive home--you only drank one seltzer.

as your fellow coworkers all shuffled out the door, you bid them farewell. you made sure that they all had a safe way to get back to their respective homes and told your nosy and drunk coworkers that you'd stay behind to help art clean up. after all you are his assistant. once everyone was gone, art was quick to walk over to you, gently grabbing your hands and pulling you towards the couch. whenever he was drunk--much like right now--art was clingy. he just wanted someone to hold and mouth at although he claims he doesn't have an oral fixation.

he sits down on the couch, slotting you in-between his legs. your back pressed snuggly to his chest as his hands rubbed up and down your thighs and his mouth placing sloppy kisses behind your ear. neither of you talk during moments like these because the feeling of skin on skin said more than enough for the both of you. the pair of you stay like this for awhile before art mumbles something about needing to pee and reluctantly peels himself from you. you watch as he stumbles towards the bathroom but you can't help the pit that forms in the bottom of your stomach.

you and art have been doing... whatever it is you two were doing but never really talked about the trajectory of where this thing was going. you had subtly hinted about wanting more with art but were always afraid to come out and talk to him about it. you were scared that he would see this as casual and that discussing the topic would inevitably lead to the end of this. when art finds his way back to the couch, he can tell something is off with you. he'd never admit it but art has grown to read you incredibly well. he can tell that something is bothering you whenever your eyes flit around the room as if you're looking for something--much like you're doing right now.

"hey, talk to me." he says quietly, the first words either of you have spoken in the last half an hour.

you still look around the room, almost afraid to meet his gaze in fear that you might start crying. any amount of alcohol makes you emotional. "what do you mean?" you say, feigning ignorance.

"something is bothering you." art says, gently wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you back into his lap.

you burry your face into the crook of his neck and inhale. it sounds weird but you could never get sick of his smell. "it's nothing" you say, the words muffled by his skin.

you can't see him but you know that he's rolling his eyes at you. he does that a lot when you're being stubborn which is almost all of the time.

"it's not nothing. just please talk to me." he places a soft kiss on the top of your head, his hands rubbing up and down your arms.

you let out a deep sigh because you know art and he's just as stubborn as you are. he isn't going to let this go until you talk to him. you pull your head away from his neck, looking him in the eye. "what are we?"

the moment the words leave your mouth you almost regret them because there's an obvious tremor in your voice. you quickly look away from art, not daring to see his reaction. he doesn't answer for a while, the two of you sitting in heavy silence. he gently holds your chin and forces you to look at him.

"do you think this is just casual to me?" he asks, his face neutral although if you looked closely enough you could see his eyes were starting to water.

"well no but-" you pause, taking a moment to think. "i don't know what this is to you and i was just wondering where this all was going. i mean we've never talked about it before so..." you were starting to ramble which was a habit you had when you got nervous.

art takes one of your hands into his and gives you a comforting squeeze. "trust me this is far from casual in my mind."

"is this... dating?" you ask hesitantly.

"if you'll allow me to be your boyfriend that is." he says, a smile gracing his lips as he stares down at you. in this light he reminds you of a golden retriever with their tail wagging as they wait for their owner to give them a treat.

"of course." you say and pull art into a kiss that's equal parts soft as it is eager.

#art donaldson #art donaldson x you #art donalson x reader #mike faist #ceo!art donaldson

201 notes · View notes

howi99 · 1 month ago

Text

From the Nest 21

- nightfall -

Yang: *sitting awkwardly in front of Jaune* So... My mother was your teacher...

Jaune: *sigh, looking at how awkward Yang was acting like* Can you stop acting like a schoolgirl asking her crush for a date? *Taking a beer from Raven's stash, tossing it to Yang* Take that and relax a bit.

Yang: *Sigh, opening the bottle and taking a sip, wincing from the taste* Urgh, i can't believe my uncle like that!

Jaune: *lighting up a smoke, taking a drag* I personally don't like it either, i'm more of a girly drink lover myself.

Yang: ... *Taking a deep breath* I want to know where my mom is.

Jaune: *shrug* No idea.

Yang: *frown* Bullshit!

Jaune: *chuckle* Yang, even if i tell you where she is at this moment, the tribe would have moved before you can get there anyway. *Sigh, looking at the birds flying nearby* Beside, i said i would answer your questions, not sell out where my family lives.

Yang: Then what can you tell me!?

Jaune: *taking another drag* She's a broken mess, Yang.

Yang: *blink in confusion* ... What?

Jaune: *looking back at Yang with fatigued eyes* Raven's a good person who didn't have a single easy choice in life-

Yang: *sarcastically* Oh yeah, because leaving me for being weak must have been such a hard choice!

Jaune: *Point at her* Do you honestly think she left because you were "too weak"? *Scoff* Of course not; she left because the rest of her family was being massacred by both the Mistralean and Atlesian government.

Yang: *roll her eyes* They were criminals. Even you said so yourself.

Jaune: The adults? Oh yeah, they deserved to die. *Point at himself* But me? Or my oldest sister who almost got executed for just being part of a tribe she never wanted to be a part of in the first place, did we deserve to die too?

Yang: *shocked* W-wait, they were going to kill everyone!?

Jaune: *scoff* Of course not; half would have been sent to work in the mines or sold to the highest bidders. Heck, kids fetch a high price on the black market.

Yang: *feeling sick* O-oh God, i-i didn't know-

Jaune: *roll his eyes* Well duh, it's not like the government will scream on every roof that they are abusing and killing kids, Yang. And when she saved the tribe, or what was left of it anyway, she was branded a criminal... *Sigh* Can't really be part of a family when half of the world wants you dead, can you?

Yang: So you are telling me-

Jaune: *Flicking the ashes away, looking away* Her biggest regret was saving us, which meant she could never be a mother to you... or Ruby. *Humorless chuckle* She's so worried about you, becoming a huntress, and yet she can't do shit. *Grits his teeth* Honestly, do you know how sad it is? To hear her cry every single year, on the same 3 fucking days!?

Yang: *confused* What-

Jaune: Your birthdays, Ruby's birthdays and... *Look at his hands, remembering far too clearly the blood pouring out of Raven's wounds, the day Summer died* ... something she keeps feeling guilty of, even if it wasn't her fault.

Yang: *silently looking at Jaune* ... And you? What are you really like?

Jaune: *Put out the cigarette* Well, i'm nothing but a greedy bastard. *Smirk* I want everyone i care for to be happy, even if it would mean burning the entire world. *Shrug* And i care for a lot of people, including you and both of our teams.

Yang: *blink* That's... Not something i thought you'd say.

Jaune: What, that i'd do unspeakable things for my friends? Do you think i'm that weak willed?

Yang: N-no, just... I thought that maybe you became friend with me and Ruby just because of... Well...

Jaune: ... *Scratch his head* You do know Qrow still updates her about you two, right? *Shrug* I didn't have to become friends with y'all; i could have ignored you and Ruby and it wouldn't have changed a thing.

Yang: ... Qrow did WHAT!? HE SAID HE LOST CONTACT WITH HER YEARS AGO!?!

Jaune: (Oops...) I mean, had he told you, you probably would have run in Mistral by yourself and got yourself killed which i doubt he'd want.

Yang: Still! He could have sent her all the letters i wrote her-

Jaune: Oh he did, just without telling you.

Yang: ... MOTHERF-

- Meanwhile -

Qrow: ... Why do i feel like someone just threw me under the bus?

Raven: *drinking a beer with him* Oh yeah, forgot to tell you that Yang found out about Jaune.

Qrow: ... Oh i'm so royally fucked.

#jaune arc #raven branwen #qrow branwen #yang xiao long #rwby #rwby au #from the nest au

144 notes · View notes

patdkoala · 5 months ago

Text

Just "Friends"

Clark and I are close and I mean really close. We aren't like him, Chloe, Lex, or even Lana or Pete. We were close like with no one else in the universe.

We talked about everything together, and it honestly made me feel so good to have someone like that in my life. Clark always knew what to say to make me feel better.

Today I was with Chloe and Lana. Because yes, Clark is like my other half but sometimes you just need to have a true heart-to-heart with the girls. Chloe has a crush on this new guy at our school and she wants to ask him to the school dance. She called me and Lana and had us come over to discuss how she should go about this whole asking-a-boy-out thing.

"I really wanna take this thing head on!" She exclaimed while Lana did her hair. Lana gave me a smirk as I rolled my eyes from Chloe's bed where I sat reading one of her many books that she had sitting in a pile next to her bed.

"And how exactly do you plan on taking this thing head-on exactly? Aren't you just going to go up to him in class and ask him to the dance?" Lana asked as she brushed through Chloe's short hair.

"I just want to make sure I make it obvious to him that I like him because the worst-case scenario is that we end up like Clark and (Y/N)," Chloe said as she and Lana looked over at me and set the book down after hearing my name.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" I asked as Chloe and Lana smirked at each other as if they had now switched the conversation over to be directed towards me now.

"We see how Clark and you make eyes at each other," Lana said as I rolled my eyes. "Oh come on! You're one to talk. You and Clark are basically the two with the most chemistry in this whole freaking town," I said as I fully sat up and gave the two my full attention.

Lana seemed baffled by my accusation. "Don't look at me like that! I know Clark and you like each other. It's no big deal. Honestly. Clark and I are just friends." I don't know why but as I said those words I felt tears pooling in my eyes somehow.

I quickly wiped those away laid back down and picked back up the book. "I say tell him how you feel," Lana said as we heard Chloe's bedroom door open and in walked Clark. "Tell who how you feel?" He asked as I sat up and saw his perfect baby blues staring right back at me like he was Prince Charming himself.

Every time I would lock eyes with Clark I felt like I was looking into the eyes of a sweet little puppy that had just opened it's eyes for the first time. I know that that sounds crazy and sappy but honestly that is how Clark made me feel.

"Chloe should tell that guy in our lit class that she likes him and wants to go to the dance with him. That's all we were talking about. Nothing else," I said as Clark went over and sat down next to me on Chloe's bed.

"Well, Chloe if you like him then yeah go for it. Tell him how you feel as Lana said." "Yeah, like I said," Lana said as she looked over at me knowing that she was directing all of that towards me.

"Lana who are yuo going to the dance with?" I asked trying to change the subject. I quickly regretted that choice because I saw the way Clark's ears turned red at the mention of Lana going to a school dance potentially she would say she didn't have anyone she was going with and he would thinnk that that meant she needs him to go with.

That was the problem with Clark. He always thought Lana needed him not that she wanted him. I mean she might. I don't know entirely because all I knew was that I wanted him and could nevr have him because he doesn't want or need me in his life half as much as I'm already in it.

"Oh, I uh. I was going to go with Whitney," She said as I watched the color drain from his ears and he laid down as I had before. Lana was almost done with Chloe's hair and I was almost done with this book so I slumped back right there next to Clark on Chloe's bed.

Lana and Chloe were chit-chatting about some more nonsense from school and boys that they think would be a good match for Chloe if this one guy doesn't pan out.

Clark and I were lying back on Chloe's bed in complete silence. This was one of those moments where I found myself truly happy. The fact that Clark and I were able to lay in complete silence like that without it being the most awkward thing in the universe was amazing.

I looked at him and he was staring at the ceiling. He always looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. It worried me that he could possibly be stressing about things that he doesn't tell me. I was certain that he told me everything so when he looked like this I assumed that there was something he was keeping from me to protect me because why else would he not tell me.

But this made me begin to worry that it was something having to do with his feelings towards Lana thta made him not talk to me about them.

Eventually, Chloe and Lana headed out to the Talon to find the guy so Chloe could have a chance at asking him out before class tomorrow and that left me and Clark to leave and go find something else to do since we were just background characters to Chloe's big day today.

"We can go back to the barn and watch a movie or something at my place if you want. My mom is making pasta for dinner,"Clark said as I smiled and then followed him to his truck outside.

I've always noticed the little thing s in movies and books where the guys would open doors and be extra polite to the female characters. Especially if they liked them in any way romantically.

Clark never treated me like that in anyway at all.

The entire drive home I was so quiet. I guess I was just overthinking my whole life which I tended to do when I was alone but never in the same rom as someone else. I felt Clark's eyes on me as he pulled into his driveway.

"What?" I asked as he parked and unbuckled himself. "Are you okay? You seemed a little quiet that whole ride. Is there something wrong? You know you can tell me, (Y/N). Always." He was always so sinsiere and kind to me.

"Yeah. I'm fine I guess I was just thinking about the dance." "Oh? Is there a special someone that asked you?" I shook my head no in my response to his silly question.

"Then what were you thinking about in regards to the dance?" I smiled and he smiled back. "Don't give me that bullshit smile because I know you are covering up something. What's wrong, (Y/N)?"

"Why won't you ask me to the dance?" I just blurted it out. I don't think I meant to but I just really wanted to know the answer.

"Woah. Where's this coming from?" He asked as he then opened his truck door and got out. I unbuckled myself and followed suit. He walked towards his house where the closer we got the more we could smell the pasta dinner his mom was making.

"I just wanted to know if you didn't ask me because you maybe see me as a sister or if you didn't ask me because you genuinly hate me."

"I Don't hate you, (Y/N)," He said as he stopped right in front of his house. We were so close to the door that I'm almost 100% sure that his parents could hear us if they even happened to be in the kitchen.

"If you don't hate me then it's the first option. You see me as a sister?" "What? No! I-" "Well then what the hell Clark why won't you just tell me how you feel instead of expecting me to do all the talking it's not like I'm exactly the most-"

He kissed me.

"Do you ever just shut up?" He said quietly into my mouth. His eyes were closed and his hand was around my head holding me close to him.

"Why have you never done something like this before?" I asked as I pushed him away because I had to remind myself that I was still mad at him.

"You always made me so comfortable around you and you're right you did always the majority of the talking that I didn't feel the need to be very affectionate myself. I've always liked you but-" "But you like Lana. I know." I looked down at the ground and avoided his eyes.

He used his finger to make me look up at him. Those beautiful baby blues were staring back at me all over again and I felt like I was melting.

"I liked Lana. Yes, that's true. But when I'm alone with her nothing compares to when I'm alone with you. Being with you- I feel like I'm floating on a cloud. It is the most comfortable I have ever been in the history of my life. I always feel like I'm trying to save everyone but you don't make me feel like that. You let me just be and I love it. I love you, (Y/N)."

"Just shut the hell up and kiss me again," I demanded as he pulled me in and kissed me again on his front porch. Then as if it never happened, we went inside and he opened the door for me which was very new to me.

His mom and dad were sitting at the table smiling ear-to-ear when we walked in.

"Glad to hear you kids made up," Johnathan said as I got red in my cheeks and I looked over at Clark who's ears were red again.

#tom welling #smallville #clark kent #clark kent x reader #fluff #dc comics #2000s #lex luther #chloe sullivan #lana lang #pete ross #whitney fordman #tom welling x reader

166 notes · View notes

berryz-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Forgive me?

Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: You and Theo are in an argument and he tries multiple times to apologise (it works eventually)

I looked at Theo from the corner of my eye, hoping he didn't notice that every time he looked away I'd look at him, making sure his injuries weren't too serious. Just because I was angry at him and just because the reason he was injured was his own fault didn't mean I had stopped caring. Matheo who was explaining the next game's quidditch tactics to Theo punched him on the arm, grinning at something he said.

"Don't punch him so hardly! He's just had his arm fixed" As soon as the words were out of my mouth I couldn't help but regret them. I was supposed to be ignoring Theo not fucking defending him for no reason.

His eyes flicked from Matheo to me in an instant. His blue eyes glinting with amusement. "Stopped ignoring me, sweetheart?"

I clenched my jaw annoyed at myself for my stupidity and idiotic way of ruining things.

"I was talking to Matheo, not you" I tried to save myself. Well it was true. I may be talking about him but it wasn't to him.

His smirk dropped, sadness overtaking his expression "I've apologised. So many times y/n. What else do you want?" I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted everything to finally be ok but it wasn't. Not until I thought through everything.

I shook my head "It's been one day. When we decided on a break it was indefinitely" I was going to add a sorry at the end but I didn't. Because he didn't deserve a sorry right now.

I stood up leaving him to eat his breakfast in peace, finding comfort in the library with Pansy cheering me up.

*The next day*

"And will he make it?! YES! OF COURSE HE DOES! THEODORE NOTT OF SLYTHERIN FINISHING THE GAME WITH AN ASTONISHING GOAL. There you have it! Slytherin has won by one hundred and fifty points! Of course Hufflepuff stood no chance of winning when we look at the logistics-" Laughter rung out across the stadium at Lee Jordan's commentary but before he could carry on Professor McGonagall took the microphone away.

I watched as Theo flew around the pitch congratulating his team and doing a few loops in the air. He liked to show off and I didn't blame him. It was mostly due to him that we had won so greatly and of course this would mean another party in which I would wake up the next morning regretting my actions. Oh well. Who didn't love a party? Both teams were slowly descending down to where Madam Hooch stood with her arms crossed ready to shout at Malfoy who seemed to have not understood what it meant by "playing fairly". He had hit and injured a good few players in the process, even Matheo who he currently was annoyed at. Great person to have on a team.

I shifted my gaze back to where Theo was before but he was no longer there. I looked around and saw him talking to Professor McGonagall still on his broom. What was he doing? He took the microphone from her hand and turned to face me, the love with which he looked at me obvious however far he was.

He brushed a piece of hair away and spoke into the microphone, his deep voice amplified "Congratulations to Slytherin. I just wanted to make a quick announcement that I wanted you all to know. I am currently dating y/n who as you all know is the prettiest girl I've ever laid eyes on. I haven't spoken to her in two fucking days and it's killing me so please, forgive me sweetheart." He gave the microphone back to McGonagall as she berated him for swearing. He shrugged innocently and flew toward me. My heartbeat increasing as the distance between us decreased. Half the crowd had already left, either to mope over their loss or to prepare for the party while the other half was whistling and cheering. Their voices were all a blur as I focused on one person only.

He finally reached me, hopping off his broom he stood in front of me, his eyes piercing me. "Forgive me?"

I smiled up at him. He was too perfect to deny. I nodded my head, he took this as a sign to lean down and place his perfect lips on mine, his hands coming to rest on my waist.

Stepping back, the crowds noise suddenly sounded ten times louder, everyone was cheering while Pansy and Astoria were grinning like crazy next to me.

"You better treat her right from now on" Pansy said, her smile dropping and her eyes suddenly turning icy.

"I will. I promise"

#theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theo x you #theo x reader #theo nott imagine #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott x slytherin!reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x reader

585 notes · View notes

district4loading · 6 months ago

Text

The CEO (WLW)

Twice Sana!Dom x Female Reader!Sub

6K Words

Content Warning: smut, some angst cause why not, a bit of an age gap, mentions of cheating, fingering, oral, strap

Minors DNI

A/N: There aren’t many times where I can see Sana being dominant but goddamn when I saw these pictures I doubted myself.

I started writing this last night and just finished today (It's 10 in the morning). I hope you bottoms enjoy!!!

Anon - "i know you said in your intro your mainly going to write bottom sana… but any plans of a top sana fic soon for the girlies >< love ur writing btw!"

Maybe this was like you

"How the hell did I end up here?"

That's what you ask yourself as you stare at the ceiling in this unfamiliar bedroom. You're on the bed half naked and there's this breeze coming from the vents that's got goosebumps forming on your arms. You contemplate getting up and putting your dress back on. It's frankly too expensive to be on the floor anyways, no matter how clean the porcelain tiles are.

But you stay there, trying—then giving up in the same instance—to hear what's being said on the other side of the door. Everything was going fine, she was kissing you and touching you everywhere you needed her to. Until her phone rang, then she muttered "I have to take this" and left you, in your panties in her enormous bed. Seriously, no single person needs a bed this huge.

Well, that's what materialism does to you.

You start to blame yourself, regretting coming here in the first place. It's the fact that you're a college student, the fact that she's got maybe eight years on you. Oh yeah, and maybe also the fact that you're her intern. Well more specifically an intern at the company she runs.

As an arts and design major, internships mattered. So why not apply for an internship at one of the most popular fashion brands in the country? That was your thought process. In the competitive field, among all the other applicants you were chosen for the position. Two weeks later you met the CEO Minatozaki Sana who you never thought could be so attractive in every way possible. Every time you saw her around--which wasn't much--she'd make your knees go weak with only a glance.

How'd you end up in her bed? You don't exactly know. Well, it was maybe six in the afternoon when you were heading out of the office. Then she stopped you and randomly asked if you'd like to get drinks and of course you agreed. Next thing you knew, you're in her penthouse and she's unzipping your dress.

Now you're starting to get frustrated and you sit up, wondering if she forgot that she had someone waiting for her. That's when you actually get a look at the view outside, through the floor to ceiling windows. "Damn" You mutter, actually getting up from the bed to look at the lights.

Because what else were you gonna do? Leave?

Then after what felt like a millennia, you hear the door open up behind you. "I'm sorry, it was really important..." She trails off, noticing how you've migrated from the bed "Enjoying the view I see" She puts her hands in her pockets and you turn around just in time to see it.

You mean to give her a nasty look because you're upset with her for making you wait so long. However, the moment you open your mouth the words get stuck in your throat almost immediately when you see her. She's got on the same thing she's had on all day, this all black Prada outfit and somehow you're still starstruck about how good it fits her.

She comes closer and gets her hands on your waist like they're meant to be there "Now, where were we?" she asks, dipping her head down to your neck and kissing the skin softly. In the time you were waiting, you nearly forgot how good her lips felt on your body. A soft moan slips from your mouth and you already need more.

This is so not like you, opening your legs for some CEO who'll probably kick you out in the morning. But somehow, you just can't resist her. You pull her body closer to you and you allow her to lead you to the bed. Now you're on you're back again and she's on top of you. "Did.. mm did you turn your phone off?" You ask between heavy breaths and whines, because she's sucking on your neck so hard she'll definitely leave a mark and it feels so good.

"Yeah" She pulls away and nods, looking into your eyes. Your hands gravitate to her face and you begin to feel her soft cheeks, you still can't believe she's real. You pull her down, in an attempt to put her lips on yours but she turns away before any of that could happen "I don't kiss, remember?"

You scoff and roll your eyes, having half a mind to push her over "Yeah but you'll give me hickeys, right? And you'll eat me out but kissing is too intimate i guess"

Sana sighs "If you're going to act like that then you can go" Is what she says, but she doesn't move. She stays there with her body on you, face just inches away from yours.

"Then get the fuck off of me" You try to get up but she holds you there and she gives you this look. Her eyes widen a bit and her eyebrows furrow as if she wasn't expecting you to actually challenge her. Then she scowls as she holds you still.

You swallow and you give her the same testing look but you stop squirming, figuring that you'd let her figure out what the hell she'll do next. Unexpectedly, Sana leans forward and connects your lips. It's almost embarrassing how fast you fall into it, into the butterflies and the hot feeling of it all. You kiss her back, she shoves her tongue into your mouth and you whimper when you feel her hand snaking its way down your body.

Sana chuckles into the kiss as her hand slips beneath the waistband of your panties. She breaks the kiss "Happy now?" She asks as her fingers come into contact with your arousal. The truth is, you're soaked, and you've been soaked ever since she got her phone call. So you buck your hips into her hand.

"Very happy" You respond with a broken gasp, your cheeks burning red as you feel her begin to circle your clit ever so slowly. She kisses your lips again, but it's only a short peck this time before she goes back to your neck.

She takes a deep breath in and sighs hotly into your skin, causing a chill to run down your spine "I hope you know... I don't normally do that, especially for a girl I barely know" She hums, putting more pressure and speed in her movements. Usually you'd say something clever but you can't, there couldn't possibly be anything clever that comes to your mind when all you can think about are how good her fingers would feel inside of you, rubbing against your walls and stretching your cunt as you cum over and over again.

Maybe this was like you

Instead of saying anything at all, you grab her shirt with one hand, then use the other to keep a firm grip on her wrist. It feels too good and you need to make sure she doesn't move or slow. Sana holds back a laugh as she realizes just how fucking needy you are. "Easy on the shirt, do you know how much this costs?" She mutters into your neck but you don't really care about that right now.

Sana starts rubbing up and down your slit in slow, deliberate movements and you nearly cry out in protest. That is, until you feel her long, slender finger prodding your entrance "Fuck.. please Sana" You whine, raising your hips into her hand "Please" You beg again and it actually sounds like you might sob if she's not inside of you in the next second.

"I was going to start off with one... but jesus baby you're so fucking wet for me I think you can take two" She takes your earlobe between her teeth and bites down gently, her tongue only grazing against the skin as she slides two fingers inside.

The stretch is immaculate, perfect even and her fingers fit so snug inside of you that you just might think you were made for her. "Oh my fucking god" Your jaw goes slack and your eyes squeeze shut. You can't even control it when you clench around the digits. You need them deeper. When she curls her fingers you allow a strangled sob to escape your throat cause it's been stuck there for a while and after that you start to let everything out.

She's doing it so well, like she's experienced. She's older so obviously she'd be good at this, you just weren't able to actually conceptualize it until now. You can feel your slick dripping and it's getting everywhere, seeping through the sheets and into the mattress. "Please don't stop... don't fucking - Ah!" You cry out, your hand still firm around her wrist.

Sana lifts her head a bit, her face is right in front of you and even though your eyes are shut, you can feel her gaze on you. She's breathing out of her mouth and before you know it, her lips are on yours again. Heat spreads throughout your body as you try your best to keep up with the kiss. The thing is, it's just too good. She's just too good. You couldn't even dream of making yourself feel this good with your own fingers.

As if she can read your mind, she begins to fuck you faster. Now you can't even kiss her back. You're just moaning into her mouth, your lips parted as she licks and kisses all over them. Soon enough she pulls away and kisses your cheek "You're falling apart baby, I wish you could see how pretty you look right now." She stops for a moment, then all you can hear are the sticky sounds coming from in between your legs "God, just fucking listen to that" You already know she has that fucking smirk on her face when she says it.

For a split second you think about how your panties are still on, and how badly they're ruined right now. Then you stop caring because the praise is driving you crazy. You know she must say this shit to every other girl she fucks, it's so obvious but you can't help but feel special when she says it to you. "I.. can't fucking.. believe.." You choke the words out like you've forgotten how to speak. You're a thousand degrees and Sana's making everything even hotter.

You don't know why, but you decide to open your eyes and the sight above you only makes you want to shut them all over again. She's so hot, almost too hot right now. She stares directly into your eyes "You're going to cum aren't you" You nod frantically as your legs begin to tremble "There you go, be a good girl and cum on my fingers, darling" and her voice is so perfectly raspy when she says it. You bring your hands up, then you wrap your arms around her to pull her as close as possible. Her mouth is near your ear again and all of the feelings are too much.

"I'm so fucking close" You whine long and loud and Sana hums directly into your ear.

"Do it" She grits through her teeth and that's when you cum.

Your body arches into hers but she holds you down, her fingers still moving wildly inside of you. "Fuck!" You moan, your body shaking and shuddering on the older woman's fingers. Then you go silent, your lips still parted as the pleasureful waves continuously wash over you and your mind goes completely blank. "Fucking hell" You sputter, finally allowing your muscles to relax.

When your arms loosen around Sana's body she smiles at you and kisses your lips again "I thought you said you don't kiss?" You smile back at her.

"I don't but-"

"But what?"

"But you made a big fuss about it so I did" Sana shrugs, kissing you one more time before kneeling so she can unbutton her top.

"So do you end up kissing every girl who makes a big fuss about it?"

"I don't" She slides the garment off, then tosses it to the side as if she didn't just talk to you about pulling it too hard. "But I don't know, you're different"

"Oh, please spare me the performative b.s. I know for a fact you say that shit to every other twenty year old you fuck"

Sana flinches at your crude word choice, then unzips her pants "For your information, I don't normally do this with college students" She slides them down her slim legs and crawls between your legs. You lean upwards and allow her to unclip your bra. "They're all usually ditzy party girls who don't know how to think for themselves. That's more of a turn off than anything"

"So what about me turned you on, Sana?"

"I've been watching you since you started working with the company. You're smart, opinionated, driven... and sexy. I like how you you're always on time, how you make yourself presentable no matter what, how you know what you're doing. You know what? I'd bet my net worth that you haven't been to a party in months" She reads you like a book, and the only thing you can think of is how sexy her voice sounds while she does it. "You're different, Y/n"

You know it's probably an act, you know she's just saying it to get you attached. But goddamn it, her voice sounds so genuine, so real, so attractive that you start actually believing it. She begins to kiss your body, down your neck, between your breasts and suddenly she's between your legs. You open them for her and she holds each one, looking into your eyes as she kisses your thighs. She leaves marks, sucking and kissing on your flesh and it's obvious that she wants you to beg.

So you do.

"Sana.. please"

She smirks, then hums as if she doesn't know that you want her face buried in between your legs right now. "Want your mouth"

Sana slowly moves closer to your center and she sticks her tongue out. Then she nudges her head just a bit further and you can feel the muscle sliding up and down your slit. You bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning too loudly as her grip on your thighs tighten. It's a bit painful, the way her fingernails are digging into your skin but it turns you on. Only because her marks are going to stay there and in the morning, you'll be reminded of this moment when you see them.

"I'll admit, the first time I saw you, I couldn't wait till I could get my mouth on you" She mutters, then purses her lips to leave small kisses on your clit. "You taste just like I thought you would"

Your legs tremble a little, it's far too much. Her words and her plump lips are doing wonders for you right now. The hot pleasure almost taking your breath away. With a small whimper you say "please" cause you need more. You need her sucking and licking until you're falling apart all over again on her tongue.

"So impatient" She makes a 'tsk' noise with her mouth before taking your clit between her lips. She sucks, moving her jaw in an up and down motion and your vision goes blurry. You gasp and you reach your hand down to run them through her silky brown hair.

"Fuck - how are you so... fucking.. good" You whine, your hips begin to squirm. The pleasure is so overwhelming, but you're raising your hips and you're pushing her head down. You don't want her to move, she can't, not when she has you like this. So you keep her there the best you can. "please please please please please" You chant it like you're casting some sort of spell.

Then Sana fucking giggles, and you feel it. It's like a vibration that sends a shock through your veins and your reactive body shudders in response.

She keeps it up, using her mouth in ways you never knew were possible. Then your body's heating up again, faster this time as beads of sweat start to form on your forehead. You're completely flushed at this point and it's embarrassing but that doesn't matter because if she keeps this up you might actually..

Sana stops, allowing her tongue to lap up your wetness for a moment before she lowers her head. You're breathing heavily at this point, you were right at the edge and she just stopped. A frustrated sigh escaped your lips and you looked at her, about to ask her why she would stop and then you feel her tongue prodding your entrance.

Without warning she shoves it in and you stop breathing for a moment. "Fuck!" You choke, and Sana just tightens her grip on your thighs. She pulls you closer and gets her tongue that much deeper. It feels like absolute heaven, like you're right where you're meant to be.

She has your body fucking shaking and jerking on her tongue and she's smiling the whole time. Sana's turning you into an absolute mess and she's enjoying every single moment. Every single flick of her tongue had a specific purpose that made you see stars.

"Shit, I'm close" You warn and before you even know it, Sana's sliding herself off of the bed. "Where are you going" You sit up and there's a dazed look on your face as you try to figure it out on your own because of course she won't tell you.

You open your mouth to say something but you forget whatever it was that you were going to say when you see Sana walk out of her walk in closet with a toy in her hand. It's pink, and kind of translucent but it still makes your eyes widen.

A smile grows on your face as you watch her put it on carefully. She's deliberately being slow with it too, a smirk on her face as she tightens the straps well.

When it's finally on, Sana climbs onto the bed and in between your legs which you end up opening for her. She leans in and kisses you on your lips, nice and slow and there's nothing that feels better in this moment. Her soft lips make you feel like you're floating in space, the way it eliminates every other thought in your mind.

Then Sana buries her face in the crook of your neck, grabbing the toy with her hand to line it up. "I'll take care of you Y/n, I promise i'll have you screaming my name and cumming on this toy until you're begging me to stop" She almost growls the words into your skin, and you know she fucking means it.

"Please" Is the only word you utter before you feel the head of the dildo push past your entrance. Your eyes widen and you wrap your arms around Sana's body "Oh my fucking god" You try to moan but it comes out silent, like you've lost your voice.

She slides it in nice and slow, with gentle consideration but you're still wincing because it's fucking huge. You try to focus on your breathing and it works for a little bit, until she eases it in deeper and you forget everything. You're sure it's tearing you apart, but you can't help it when your legs wrap around her waist.

"You okay?" She raises her head and plants her fists into the mattress to hold herself up.

You swallow and nod your head, hoping she'll ignore the tears in your eyes because you've never felt so full. "I- Yeah.. just go slow please"

The look Sana gives you is understanding and a small smile appears on her lips. She leans down and kisses you again but it's only a short peck for reassurance. Then she draws back and then rolls her hips forwards. It only goes in half way but the sound you make is nothing short of pure, raw lust. You grab onto her arms and close your eyes, digging your nails into her skin in an attempt to cope with the overwhelming stimulation.

Now she's thrusting in and out of you in a rhythm, her pace slow and steady. You appreciate that she's taking her time with you because you hadn't realized just how long it's been until now. "Look at me, princess" Sana says it softly but it's also demanding. So you do. She smiles a little "You have the prettiest eyes"

All you can really do is moan and it's embarrassing because she's telling you all the right things and now the monstrous stretch is starting to feel so good. Sana really did know how to fuck and you're already craving more. "Please.. faster" You beg, giving her the most pathetic set of pleading eyes.

She does as you say on command, fucking you faster and deeper. You feel the smooth silicone toy scrape against your walls with each movement she makes and you can feel yourself getting wetter because she's just hitting all the right spots inside.

Sana takes a moment to look down at where your bodies meet. "Look at that. You're fucking creaming for me" She announces, referring to the white ring of slick thats forming around the base of the toy. You can't see it, but you know it's a lot.

"Only for you" You say it like you've lost your goddamn mind. It's insane, this is the first time she's fucking you and the first time you've been to her place but you're already letting her claim you. It can't be good and you know it, but how are you supposed to think about that when she's eight inches deep inside of you and saying all the right things.

Then she slows down and eventually halts her movements. She repositions herself and leans upwards until she's sitting on her heels. Without pulling the toy out, Sana grabs the backs of your thighs and pushes them like she's trying to bend you in half. You're not even that flexible but she manages to get your knees to your chest. She leans over and holds herself up by your thighs. You can't help it when you squeal because the pressure hurts so fucking good.

You brace yourself as she moves her hips and it feels even better. This new angle allowed the toy to get that much deeper and it's making you feel like you wouldn't mind doing this over and over and over again with her. "You're.. fucking me.. so damn... good" You manage to say the words through your moans because you just have to let her know that she's destroying you.

As if she didn't already know that

Of course she gives you that smile and then she starts actually fucking pounding you. You don't know where all this raw force is coming from, she's a thin woman, slim arms with little muscle mass but somehow she's able to pin you down, fold you and fuck you like this.

She's got it so fucking deep inside of you that you think you might cry. "Sana- fuck I can't- god you're so... I- please" Your breathing quickens. It's embarrassing how close she has you right now. "Fuck- if you keep.." You can't even finish your sentence, that's how bad she's wrecking you right now.

Sana gets the message, chuckling lowly at your struggles as she continues to fuck the shit out of you. You can hear how sloppy it is, that distinct sticky wet noise that's loud in your ears. It tells you just how wet and fucked up she's got you, it tells you that you'll probably be back at her door soon after this is over. It tells you that you might actually be hers sooner or later.

You gasp, then your hands are frantically looking for something to hold onto as your orgasm approaches hard and fast. "You're going to make me fucking cum" You warn, deciding to grab onto the duvet, because she's too far away for you to reach.

She hums and nods her head "That's right baby, cum for me again" She grunts and that's when your body begins to short circuit. She's using even more force now because your cunt is clenching tight around the girthy toy, making it harder for her to keep the same pace.

"I can't... I-" A loud moan follows your words and you finally fall off the edge. "Cumming" Is the only word you manage to say as it hits you like a truck. Your entire body trembles as she fucks you through it, never stopping her unrelenting pace. You freeze for a moment, eyes slamming shut just before everything crashes down. You begin gasping and gaping and Sana let's go of your thighs.

She spreads your legs open and falls between them, getting her lips on yours as fast as humanly possible. You're finally able to get your hands on her and your hold her close like she's gonna go away forever if you don't. You're eating each other alive, tongues dancing together as your saliva gets everywhere and the distinct flavor of your slick on her lips only adds to your arousal.

Sana breaks this kiss and gives you a smile "Again, i'm very sorry about the phone call. But I think that made up for it"

"Maybe"

Now you've got no clue what to do.

Should you leave? Should you stay? Should you ask her if she wants you to stay? You cringe at the last option.

You try to move from under her but Sana keeps you there "Stay" She asks, in such a cute voice as if she didn't just contort your body in a thousand different ways. So you stay there, and minutes pass and you wonder how long it'll be before she tells you to go.

It takes a little while but soon she gets up and she leaves you laying there and you feel that cold breeze again. She's taking off the harness, taking her time and then you notice her gaze shift to the bedside table. "Is this yours?" She goes to pick something up.

At first you're a little confused, until you remember that you took your necklace off and put it there when she went to take her call. Now she's got the priceless item in her hand, holding it all wrong as she dangles it in front of her face. "Yeah" You get up and take it from her hands "Be careful, the clasp is broken" You say it harshly, but you don't exactly mean to.

"Sorry" She scratches the back of her head after you take it from her "Why don't you get it fixed?" She asks as she watches you struggle to put it on.

"Because the part is unique, there's only one and... it can't be fixed"

"Oh" She pauses, noticing the change in your relaxed demeanor. Something about you is colder and more tense. She tilts her head "So why don't you just get a new one... I'm sure there are nicer necklaces that-"

"It was a gift from my grandma, this was the last gift she gave me before she.." You can't even bring yourself to say the words as you absentmindedly hold the pendant between your fingers. It brings you comfort. "Sorry for ruining the mood" You sigh, trying to stop yourself from tearing up. Not here, in front of this woman who probably didn't give a fuck about you.

Sana sits next to you on the bed and she touches your thigh "No, don't be sorry. I was curious" You sniffle and nod your head. When you turn to look into her eyes, they look so gentle, so considerate in all the right ways. Maybe it's because you're in a vulnerable position right now or it's cause you just slept with her, but when she asks if you want to stay the night you don't even hesitate to say yes.

What have I gotten myself into now?

"Hey, Y/n? You're wanted in Miss Minatozaki's room" Your mentor, Jihyo pulls you aside. You try your best not to wince, keeping secrets was never your thing. Either way, you manage to hum and nod, hoping that she'd walk off but she doesn't "Hey wait, listen you know how she's the CEO of the company and everything right? I feel like she's taken more of an interest to you more than any other intern i've trained. You should definitely build off of her interest in you, show her that you'd be an asset to the company and hey maybe she could get you a comfy position here if you'd like to come back. Or if not, she can put in a good word so your job search goes well after you graduate"

You smile politely. 'Never in a million years' is what you want to say but instead you settle on "I'll be sure to do that"

It's your last week interning for the company and you're happy for that, happy to never have to step foot in this building again and hopefully never see Sana's face again. But you still have to answer to her so you decide to make it quick, taking the elevator to the 60th floor because of course her office is on the top floor.

You take a deep breath before opening the door to step inside. Sana looks up at you from her computer as you close the door behind you. "You know it's really low of you to get my mentor to send me up here to you" You cross your arms and you decide not to sit down, you didn't want to get yourself comfortable with her. Not again.

"Well how else am I supposed to get your attention if you've got me blocked on everything?"

"You're not supposed to. That's why I blocked you, because I don't want your attention" You can't help but lose your temper in front of her. It's crazy how she brings out the absolute worst in you.

Sana just sighs, "Look, you need to stop being so fucking childish and talk to me like an adult" You're at a loss for words, you genuinely cannot believe that you just heard her right. Your eye twitches just a bit and you begin to laugh "Y/n" She calls you, and she's serious about it too, but you can't help the giggles that escape your lips "Y/n" she says your name again sternly.

"I'm sorry" You begin to gain control of yourself "It's just funny to hear the cheater call me childish"

"You really don't have to be so loud"

After the first night you spent with Sana, you started doing things like that casually. Whether it was sneaking around the office or showing up to her place, you always found a way to hook up. Then it became something deeper and more romantic when she started buying you gifts, bringing you flowers and taking you out on dates. Sleeping over became a norm in your relationship and after maybe six weeks she was practically begging for you to get serious.

So despite everything in your living being telling you not to, you decided to try it out. The gifts were nice and so were the dates and not to mention all of the kisses and hugs. You had already fallen for her by then and in the blink of an eye everything shattered when you caught her with her assistant. You didn't stay for an explanation, shit you really didn't need to. The gross ass make out session they were having said enough.

So much for "I don't kiss"

You really beat yourself up over it, shit you were still in the process of beating yourself up over it. The wound was still fresh because it'd only been two weeks since. You should've known she was full of shit.

"Oh really? Which one do you think people would be more concerned about? The fact that you've been fucking the intern or the fact that you've been fucking your assistant?" You say it louder on purpose just to piss her off and Sana only huffs at you "Why did you call me up here?" You get straight to the point, because you didn't like for your time to be wasted.

"I want you to give me another chance"

You stare at each other for a few seconds and you almost laugh out loud again because she can't be serious right?

"No. Give me one good reason why I should?"

"Because I got you this" She opens a drawer in her desk and pulls something out, placing it on top of the wood and sliding it forward.

"Sana, you can't win me over with gifts. It's so disrespectful that you think i'm so easy-"

"Just, open it"

You walk over to her desk, sitting down in a chair as you unwrap the present-like box. "What the hell" You mutter as you go to open the box, there's a necklace in it but something about it is familiar. "Is this.." You gasp then put your hand over your mouth as you look at Sana "You got it fixed? I.. how? The part was one of a kind.." You glance back at the clasp, it looks brand new.

"I had some connections and you seemed really bummed about it, so I took it and I wanted to surprise you but then.." Sana suddenly feels uneasy about finishing the sentence. Your eyes begin to well up with tears as you gently pick up the necklace from the box.

Then she starts her apology "I'm really sorry about everything.. If it makes you feel any better I didn't actually fuck her- well I used to before we made things official but not after that! I swear you just walked in at a really bad time and she kissed me and I didn't push her away immediately but I promise we wouldn't have done anything else.. I was just being dumb"

She stumbles over her words in an attempt to make things better, to at least gain your forgiveness if not your trust. You couldn't even bring yourself to take your eyes off of the necklace, and you barely hear anything she's said but something in your heart softens for her. You wipe your tears and sniffle "Thank you so much" Is all you manage to say before you begin to break down.

Sana finally gets up, she wraps her arms around you and it feels so right. Now what are you supposed to do? Tell her to go fuck herself after she's done this? You can't bring yourself to even push her off of you, on the contrary you actually pull her closer. It takes a while, but she pulls away from the hug and you already miss it. "Sana.. I, I need time to think about everything"

You stand up, and put the box with the necklace in it on the table "Wait, at least take the necklace. It's yours"

Figuring there was no harm in it, you take the necklace and with that you walk out of the door.

To keep things short, it's probably the worst decision you've ever made.

#kpop gg #twice #sana twice #twice sana #kpop smut #minatozaki sana #girl group smut #smut #kpop idol #sana smut #top sana #bottom reader #fem reader

156 notes · View notes

applecherryandpears · 9 months ago

Text

BBC Radio 1 - 1997: The love edition

Can't believe that so many seminal Noel & Liam quotes are from the very same interview, either Noel's life + music crisis poured it all out of him, or the good moments are just indeed that good BTS.

Naturally, they were (allegedly) drunk. Liam wasn't supposed to show up but he changed his mind last minute, my headcanon is that he missed Noel judging from how well they got along that day.

I'm very friendly to my bed, I love my bed, and my bed loves me.

(Interviewer says Liam only gets better, Noel complains Liam doesn't show up for B sides recordings, Liam says he had a sore throat, and somehow, this comes to this.)

Love-love-love. Liam twists exhibition (oasis photo thing) into expedition and Noel's bullying turns into a live fantasy of marching down the south pole wastelands together to build heart shaped igloos, also Liam's shy. And fighting for his life.

There we have it, a recorded (half) confession.

Okay so here I find the "as long as ... for a couple of quids" holds some meaning as Noel goes a little rigid saying no. Can't ever meant this. but I can't for the life of me understand Liam.

Also Liam clears out that inspiration entails for him listening and understanding him without rushing into ill-made judgments and it's palpable he's at his limits with the media. Coincidentally the day after this interview he was tracked down by journalists, asking him if he had regrets over what he said, because apparently he swore too much and had people clutch on their pearls all over the UK.

Supersonic quote but in full. Mad for it, Noel says.

I'll be a really good uncle to Liam's child.

I could sum this one up with Pardon? but -- "that man is a bigger man than I am, why, it has nothing to do with you, but he has to deal with life and with somebody like me on top of everything else" yet by the end of that year it had all gone to flames. Also audio proof they did give each other birthday presents, not lost on me this one.

Noel truly cares about Liam's opinion but won't show it (nothing new ik) However that giggle at the end has my wonders.

Bonus:

In the honour of a 2024 magazine article deeply regretting Liam's menacing aura and rock n roll attitude from 1997

And, if anyone can possibly make out what Liam says Noel is pointing his way, this one maxed out my comprehension skills:

#Oasis #liam gallagher #noel gallagher #1997 #radio

259 notes · View notes

astralis-ortus · 1 year ago

Text

love, am i home?

✱ bestfriend!bc × gn!reader

— how can you tell it's not simply an infatuation?

w.count → 0.6k genre → angst, one-sided love warnings → minor cussing, mention of alcohol but no described consumption a.n → honestly i don't even know what i wrote i am feeling feelings soooo yeah! also, there's a few mentions of bambam as the home owner lol ⋆ see masterlist

“do you reckon i’ll fall in love someday?’

chan’s odd, unprovoked question nearly made you choke on the strawberry-lychee juice you were trying so hard to savor. worse, your heart also took a hit from it—which, frankly, you should have been preparing yourself for from the day you realized that your hiking heart bpm whenever chan was sitting a little too close was not exactly a normal reaction between friends.

“yeah,” you barely managed to quip a reply, setting your half-empty paper cup on the coffee table across the tan leather couch before chan could send another unwarranted hit on your poor heart. “i mean, didn’t you have a few relationships before?”

well fuck—now he’s going to elaborate, isn’t he. good job, dumbass.

sometimes you wonder why you’re trying so hard to be a good friend when you do realize it will only further tighten the chains wrapped around your chest. does bambam have some alcohol in the fridge? also, where the fuck is he?

“fair point,” a long sigh escaped his lungs as chan fully leaned onto bambam’s ridiculously large sofa, eyes tracing whatever interesting shape he could find on the ceiling of their still-missing friend’s apartment, “but i wonder if those feelings were actually… love, you know? not merely infatuation?”

“i don’t, actually,” you playfully snickered, hoping the faint smile on your lips would help in numbing the dull ache spreading on your chest. “i mean, as far as my experience goes, i think it has always been love for me.”

“and how does that feel?”

“how?” the faint urgency in his voice pulled your line of gaze towards chan—unexpectedly meeting his pair of curious brown eyes, and you sighed. are you really going to say it?

you were preparing a joke, really. deflecting, avoiding his question, all that thing.

you really were.

and you know, with every part of your bones, you’re probably going to regret this.

“uh, well, it feels like…”

the butterflies when i see your name lit up my phone screen.

the odd twist in the pit of my stomach when i hear you talk about that new friend you made and how you thought they were beautiful.

the way my lips followed yours into a smile when you excitedly told me about a new song idea and how spring flooded my chest when you said it’s our little secret.

the sudden void when you told me you asked that new friend of yours to go out for dinner, and how my heart went numb when you brightly exclaimed that it would technically count as a first date.

an excruciatingly long roller coaster of emotions,

an endless hike under the scorching summer sun,

a long night staring at where the waves breaks,

and yet…

“it was home.”

“…home?”

“yeah,” you shrugged, fingers hiding inside the sleeves of your hoodie while you pull your knees closer to your chest, “home.”

“it’s everything that is good, everything that’s not quite there, and yet you can’t help but find yourself longing for every piece of it. you accept that it’s not going to be perfect and never will be, and yet you’re still willing to continuously nurture that feeling because, well, you love them, and even if it eventually didn’t work out… you’d still think it’s worth the effort to try.”

you don’t know what the silence between you now meant.

you don’t know, and probably would never want to find out.

you’d hate to know who he thinks about when he opens his mouth,

and you’d forever thank bambam for his impeccable timing with bags full of thai foods in his hand.

321 notes · View notes

khakirnelm · 1 year ago

Text

From an incorrect quote generator

If Melody was a human tho

Phoebe: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE Melody: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially Phoebe, desperately, as Melody bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE Melody: Oh! B positive. Phoebe: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE Melody:

Phoebe: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming Melody: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak

Phoebe: Whaddya call a fish with no eye? Melody, not looking up: Myxine Circifrons Phoebe: Phoebe: fsh

Phoebe: So what's for dinner? Melody, staring at the food she just burnt: Regret.

Callie: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone. Phoebe: Mine just says "Phoebe no." Callie: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

Trevor: Not elegant enough to be a vampire, not jock enough to be a werewolf... Phoebe: Goblin it is.

Trevor: My head hurts. Phoebe: That’s your brain trying to comprehend its own stupidity.

Computer: Please enter a password. Phoebe: *types in Melody* Computer: Your password is too weak. Phoebe: How fucking DARE YOU-

Phoebe: So what are your political beliefs? Podcast: Well, I think Pikachu would be a lot more powerful if he had a gun.

Callie: You spent all our money on THIS?? Gary, putting tiny raincoats on ducklings: They live outside. They need this.

Phoebe: Why are you on fire? Melody: This is just how my day is going.

Podcast: Change is inedible.

Phoebe: Don't you mean inevitable?

Podcast, spitting out coins: No, I did not.

Phoebe: .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.--

[translation: I’M SORRY]

Callie: What's that?

Phoebe: Remorse code.

Callie: I'm even angrier now.

Phoebe: I don’t do relationships.

Melody: *exists*

Phoebe: Shit.

Trevor: Kissing can burn 26 calories in a minute, wanna work-out with me? ;)

Lucky: Are you saying that I'm fat?

Trevor: No that's not what I meant I-

Phoebe: Podcast... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor?

Podcast: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned.

Phoebe:

Phoebe: I wrote sanitize, Podcast.

Callie, tending to Trevor’s wounds: How would you rate your pain?

Trevor: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.

Peck: I'm going to ask you to be respectful. Phoebe: I will politely decline.

Podcast: I’m having one of those things! A headache with pictures!! Phoebe: you mean an idea..? Podcast: MMMMHHMMM!!

Phoebe: English is a difficult language. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though. Trevor: You need to stop.

Phoebe: How did none of you hear what I just said? Callie: I’ve been zoned out for the past two and a half hours. Gary: I got distracted about halfway through. Trevor: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

If Melody was a human, again

Phoebe: HELP! I TOLD MELODY I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK! Trevor, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?

Podcast: What if I press the brake and gas at the same time? Phoebe: The car takes a screenshot. Trevor: For the last time, get the fuck out.

Gary, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him Callie: You did WHAT– Phoebe: William Snakepeare

Trevor: You look nice, I want to kiss you. Lucky: What? Trevor: I SAID IF YOU DIED, I WOULDN’T MISS YOU.

Gary: The best revenge, really, is being nice! Podcast: [in the distance] Or murder.

Gary: That’s one of my biggest fears. Like, if I ever woke up as a donut... Callie: You would eat yourself? Gary: I wouldn’t even question it.

Phoebe: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO- Melody: It was me... Phoebe: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.

#phoebe spengler #melody ghostbusters #phoebe x melody #incorrect quotes #if melody actually had blood #ghostbusters frozen empire #adding them as they appear #like editing if i find another one #callie spengler #trevor spengler #podcast #gary grooberson #lucky ghostbusters #walter peck #checkmatch

316 notes · View notes

ashdreams2023 · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! Can u do one where Snape and student reader has a platonic bantering relationship? Like Snape favors them a lot and students and teachers clearly notices but Snape and Student likes to go back and forth with petty insults. Kinda like making the other students and professors confused if Snape actually favors them or not. But when someone insults the other they would passionately defend them. Something along the lines of "only I can insult Snape/Student" It can be like Snape is complaining abt Student to McGonagall then suddenly McGonagall agrees and adds her complaints making Severus defend student suddenly. Or when Student is complaining to her friends abt how awful Snape is but when her friends insult him she also defends him. HAHAHAHA i don't know if it makes sense so I understand if u can't make it lol.

Git

Platonic severus snape x reader

Severus didn’t like when students disrespected him, just because he’s young didn’t mean he wasn’t worthy out it.

That’s one of many reasons he’s so strict, students just learn to stay out of his way like that but then again there we’re always the ones who just didn’t get the hint.

And one of them was you.

Honestly you were bound to be trouble the second you opened your mouth in his classroom, left him gritting his teeth and furiously angry at the house you were from.

You were blunt, annoying and hotheaded.

"But Professor just one last chance! You need too you know this was not my best performance!"

"Sounds like a you problem."

It would be like that then after some more nagging he would give in because you we’re starting to give him a headache and he couldn’t give you detention for asking for help.

At one point he just gave up with your tactics all together and what made it worse was that you kept your promises, you did your work, participated in class, and regardless of the back talk and half assed comments at each other you were not, dare he say…insufferable but just more tolerable than most.

Although minerva likes to say you’re his favorite but he denies it every time, he doesn’t have favorites and he merely tolerates you.

"Severus due give this to young miss [——] when you go to the great hall"

"Do I look like an owl Minerva?" He said irritated.

The older professor gave him a look before he groaned and took the textbook and went on his way to the great hall where students were starting to gather in for lunch.

The great hall was buzzing with chatter, students were too busy to notice him enter and he liked it that way, he looked around then landed his eyes on you sitting on the gryffindor table to his pleasure, chatting with potter and granger.

He approached you slowly but stopped when he heard potter mentioning him.

"I swear I can’t do it anymore! If I get another troll on my next assignment I’m gonna try convincing Dumbledore that it’s not necessary in the curriculum"

"Don’t be dramatic, potions just need some focusing and if you tried not picking fight with snape things would be easier, I know he’s an ass but come on" you replied.

Hermione cleared her throat "it’s Professor Dumbledore Harry and professor snape to you!" She pointed at you but you just shrugged "moral of the story she’s right Harry you just need to focus, try to pay attention in class instead of neglecting your grades just to spite professor snape"

Harry crossed his arms "easy for her to say, she’s his favorite, it’s honestly starting to piss me off! He’s a git who only cares about his own house and I hope he does get that dark arts position at least then he would leave hogwarts one way or another!"

Harry regretted his words the second they left his mouth, the look you gave him was a mix of shock and angry.

"What is wrong with you?! I know he’s a git, he’s unfair and sometimes plain unreasonable when he feels like it but wishing death on him just because you dislike him!"

"[——] calm down Harry didn’t mean it like that!"

"That’s not-"

"That’s exactly what you meant Harry! He’s mean but he’s not a monster" you said all of that while not realizing snape was standing right there, watching and observing the whole thing.

It made his chest a tad tight, he hated the feeling but the look of absolute shame on Harry’s face made him satisfied.

Maybe he does have favorites.

"Snape? What are you doing with my textbook!" You said finally noticing him standing there with you transfigurations textbook. He scoffed and handed you the textbook.

"You brats would lose your head if it they weren’t attached to your body"

You frowned and took your textbook from him.

"I remember important stuff…like washing my hair" you smirked

Snape glared at you, screw what he just thought, you were still annoying.

#imagine #severus x y/n #severus snape #pro severus #severus x reader #platonic severus snape x reader #severus snape x reader #snapedom #snape fandom #severussnape #severus snape headcanon #severus snape x you #severus #severus snape fanfiction #snape

544 notes · View notes

cc--2224 · 9 months ago

Text

My Thoughts Will Echo Your Name...

Pairing: Echo x F!Reader (eventually)

Summary: After a recent breakup, Fives attempts to get you to leave your house to get yourself back out there, and to meet his closest brother before they ship out, and unfortunately it's very hard to say no to your best friend

Warnings: Drunk clones being jerks, mentions of cheating/gaslighting, alcohol mentions, mostly all fluff, until there's angst

Notes: Happy Echo day!! This will be a two-parter, I'm still working on the second part but my goal is to have it out before long

Word Count: 5.4k

Masterlist

"Fives, I'm serious, I don't feel like going out tonight." Your protests clearly meant nothing to your dear friend who showed up at your door while you were in your sleep clothes, half a bottle of wine deep.

"That's too bad." He said as he invited himself in. "Because you are."

You glared at him as he walked past you. "I'm staying home."

He sighed dramatically, "I barely have any off time, and you know we ship out tomorrow, will you please just come out with me while I have today?"

It was hard to say no to him, not that you'd ever tell him that, but after all that had happened, you had no energy to go out. "Why don't you just stay here? We can watch a movie, have another bottle of wine." You suggested.

"Well, normally I'd love that... but I kind of promised Echo I'd introduce you to him." He grinned, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Fives..." You groaned. "I don't want to be introduced to anyone."

"Isn't it time for you to get back out there? I mean, Echo is way better than that other guy, I know you'll love him. He's just like me, but not as handsome or funny."

"He's like you? So I won't like him at all then," you deadpanned.

"You wound me." He said dramatically before miraculously changing his tone. "Now let's go."

"You aren't taking no for an answer, are you?"

"Nope." He grinned. "Tell you what, just come with me to 79's, if you don't like him, or if you're not having fun, I'll pay for your cab home."

"How generous." You rolled your eyes. "Fine. Only to shut you up, I will go with you. Just let me get changed."

"Wear something hot!" He yelled as you walked toward your room, a grin plastered on his face knowing that he won.

"Kriff off." You answered, slamming your door behind you.

You barely had the energy to go out, you definitely didn't feel like wearing something hot. But you also knew Fives was relentless and if you walked out wearing jeans and a simple shirt, he'd march you back into your room and pick something out for you.

But maybe it wasn't a bad idea to go all out. After all, you were certain your ex had immediately gotten back out there after your breakup, in fact you were certain he'd gotten back out there before your breakup.

You shook your head in anger, then rifled through your closet, trying to find something that remotely resembled a club outfit, before you stopped at a dress Fives had gotten you as a joke. It was a cocktail dress, a bit short for your tastes with a deep v-shaped neckline, and of course in "501st Blue" as he put it.

You held it up to yourself, looking at it in the mirror, debating if it was a good choice or not.

"Hey you still have it!" Fives said, standing in the doorway.

You startled at the sudden intrusion. "Privacy?"

"You're taking too long. That's perfect, now put it on and let's go!"

Before you could complain, he closed the door behind him as he went back to the front room to wait for you.

You sighed and quickly changed into the dress before brushing out your hair and wiping away any remnants of yesterday's eyeliner, foregoing a new layer of makeup.

As you walked out of your room, you tugged on the hem of the dress, definitely too short for you, but before you had a chance to regret your choice, you felt Fives' hand on your arm, dragging you to the door.

"Can I at least put shoes on?"

He rolled his eyes, "I guess."

After you had thrown on a pair of black strappy heels, he was once again dragging you by the arm. You didn't even have a chance to fasten the straps, but you resigned yourself to having to figure it out in the cab.

"What's the hurry anyway? It's not like you have to leave tonight."

"I know, but it's never a bad thing to give ourselves more time."

"It's barely even dark yet," You pointed out as you exited your apartment building.

"Well maybe I told Echo we'd get something to eat first."

"Fives!"

"What? We're still going to 79s, just before it gets crowded and too loud for you guys to speak."

"How do you even know Echo will like me?"

"I just know." He flashed you a grin before hailing a cab over to you.

Once inside, you got to work on buckling up your shoes.

"Look," Fives said, his tone more serious than before. "Echo's a good guy, I obviously would never force you to meet him if I thought he wasn't going to like you, or if I thought you wouldn't like him."

"I know that," You told him, looking down at your lap, "I just... With the breakup and everything–"

"It's hard to put yourself out there again. I get it, but just... humor me, okay? And I swear, the second you tell me you want to leave, I'll get you out of there."

When you didn't answer immediately, Fives turned to you. His eyes met yours, seeing your hesitation immediately.

"We can turn around, it's not too late." He offered, his voice gave away that it wasn't really what he wanted, but you knew he'd hold to his word if you asked.

"I'm already dressed." You said, rolling your eyes slightly.

He leaned over and wrapped his arms around you. "I love you, thank you!"

"I know, now get off me." You joked, despite sinking into the hug.

The taxi stopped at the landing pad in front of 79's. You had barely had enough time to scan the area before you heard someone calling Fives' name.

You looked in the direction the voice came from and you saw him bounding over to you. As expected, he looked exactly like Fives, aside from his clean-shaven, tattooless face, and the prominent blue handprint painted on his chest plate.

He stopped in front of you, greeting Fives with a firm hug before looking to you.

You had caught him subtly looking you over, and for a moment you began feeling self-conscious about your outfit choice once again, but that melted when he extended his hand to shake yours.

"You must be Fives' friend, I'm Echo."

You gave him your name with a polite smile, taking his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise, Fives has told me a lot about you."

You turned to your friend as if to ask what exactly he had been saying about you, but he changed the subject.

"Let's go inside, I'm starving!" He announced as he began walking toward the bar, leaving you and Echo to follow him.

Fives led the two of you to a booth, and once he had slid in, he stretched obnoxiously, forcing you to slide in next to Echo.

You ensured to keep your distance, trying to avoid getting too close to him, but you also made sure to give Fives a quick glare. He shrugged and grinned in response.

Once your orders were placed, Echo glanced to you.

"Fives tells me that you're a writer?"

"Well, trying to be." You admit. "I'm a journalist, but I want to write more creatively."

"What would you write about?" His curiosity is genuine, he didn't think he had ever met someone who wanted to write books before.

"Me, obviously." Fives chimed in from across the table. "I'd make an excellent hero."

You rolled your eyes, it isn't the first time he has indicated being the protagonist in a story you wrote.

You looked back to Echo and shrugged slightly, "I haven't really decided yet."

"Well, I can't wait to read it, whatever it ends up being." His voice was soft, he seemed excited about the idea, which is more than you could say for others.

Feeling warmth spread across your face, you looked back to the table quickly, just in time for your food to arrive.

The conversations were on and off as the three of you ate. They were mostly between Echo and Fives and you observed the two of them together, but occasionally you joined in as well.

Before long, your meals were done, and drinks had begun to be delivered to your table.

After one or two, Echo looked back and forth between you and Fives, before his gaze rested on you.

"Fives always talks about how good of friends you two are, but I'm curious, you've never... gone beyond that?"

You coughed into your cup before your laughter mingled with your coughing from the drink you inhaled.

"No," Was all you could say, and even that was strained.

You looked to Fives, who was laughing too. "I mean, I can't lie, look at her; she's beautiful. But, not my type."

Shaking your head at his compliment, you had finally cleared the liquid from your windpipe.

You looked to Echo and clarified. "Fives and I have been friends since he came to Coruscant, he asked me out, yeah, but we learned very early on that we were compatible only as friends."

Fives took another swig of his drink before giving you a knowing look. You raised an eyebrow as his focus turned to Echo.

"She's a bit too serious for me, y'know? Like she's smart, maybe a bit of a bookworm, would rather stay in and watch a holofilm, maybe that's why we work as friends. But honestly, she's more the kind of girl you like, Echo."

And there it was.

Your eyes widen slightly at his comment, before you attempt to drown your embarrassment with the remainder of your drink.

You can feel Echo shift slightly in his seat, and you decide it's a great time to go track down refills for the three of you.

Quickly getting up from your seat, you made a bee-line for the bar counter. Pushing through the group of clones that had begun to amass there.

You could feel their gazes upon you but you ignored them as you ordered drinks for your table and waited patiently.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the same blue handprint you had noticed earlier, and you turned to face Echo. He looked just as embarrassed as you, but he gave you an apologetic smile.

"I'm... That was uncalled for. Sorry that Fives embarrassed you like that."

You shook your head, "No, it's okay. Truthfully I saw it coming. I'm sorry that he put you on the spot."

"Don't worry about it. I mean, if anything, he's right."

His words took a moment to sink in, and the realization became present on your face as soon as they had.

"What do you mean?" You asked, trying not to jump to conclusions.

"I mean that, if how he described you is accurate, which I suspect it is, I'm the same way. This kind of place, it's fun, and I like coming here with the boys after a mission, but I prefer relaxing in my barracks, catching up on some reading, that kind of thing."

Before you could respond, another clone sitting at the bar turned to the two of you.

"Get a load of this guy, spends his time reading!" He slurred. "What a loser, you could do way better, doll."

He wasn't subtle about the way his eyes trailed up your body. He paused, looking at the hem of your dress, then his eyes continued upward, stopping at the deep-v neckline as he stared pointedly at your breasts.

You immediately felt yourself shrink away from his gaze as you could see him ogling you, but before you could say anything, you felt yourself being pulled backwards.

Echo had grabbed your arm and pulled you into him, shielding you from view while stepping between you and the other clone. He gave him a glare, but said nothing.

"You can't be serious, all that eyecandy for you?" The clone complained loudly. "Whatever, take the dumb chaakar back to your bunk and read to her. I bet that's why she wore that outfit." His tone was laced with sarcasm, and it wasn't lost on you.

Before either of you could react, the bartender arrived with your drinks. Both of you visibly relaxed and brought them back to the table.

Fives could tell something was up when he saw you approach, but Echo just shook his head, knowing that if he knew, his brother would cause something he'd have to clean up.

Echo slid into the booth first, and you followed. Once you were seated, still maintaining some distance from him, he inched slightly closer to you, resting his thigh against yours as a way to comfort you.

You took a sip of your drink and looked away from the table, not sure what to say.

Fives looked between you and Echo before you felt him nudge your foot from under the table. When you met his eye, he subtly nudged his head toward the door, silently asking if you wanted to leave.

You shook your head with a genuine smile and he relaxed.

"So what'd you guys talk about?" Fives finally asked.

"Insulting you, mostly." You answered, not skipping a beat.

"Only mostly? I'm offended."

"Not everything is about you, believe it or not." You smirked.

Echo took another swig of his drink. "I keep telling him that."

"If I had known this night would end up with you two teaming up against me, I'd have never brought you." Fives says with fake indignance, crossing his arms.

"You couldn't have expected anything different," you pointed out. "The two people who know you best, I'd say we make a pretty good team, wouldn't you agree, Echo?"

You smiled at him and he shifted in his seat a bit. "Y-Yeah, we do!"

With the drinks flowing, the three of you were able to continue your conversation, opening up more and more as the night went on.

You learned more about Fives that you probably could have gone your whole life without learning, but you also slowly started to get to know Echo.

It was almost as if you were both working on chipping away each others' quiet, introverted demeanors, until eventually, Echo chipped a bit too much.

"Fives had mentioned you weren't seeing anyone, it's not really my business but is there a reason for that?"

Your stunned reaction made him start to regret his question and he quickly back-pedaled. "That was a dumb question, you don't have to answer that."

"No, no it's fine I just..." You looked at Fives for support then back at your drink, before looking to Echo again. "I guess to make a long story short, my last partner cheated on me."

"A lot." Fives added in, earning a glare from you.

"I caught him with someone else, he tried to tell me it was nothing, that I was crazy for being upset, that I should have seen it coming, and every excuse in the book. Even accused me of cheating with Fives. But then the truth came out about everyone else he had been with." Your finger circled idly around your glass as you stared at the remaining liquid.

Echo was silent. It took a minute of silence before you finally looked over at him. His expression was something between confusion and anger as he processed what you told him.

"I..." He looked at Fives, "Is this guy still living?"

"Unfortunately yes." Fives answered, "Though I did ask if I could do the honours and kill him myself, but she said no."

"He wasn't worth the jail time you would have gotten." You said, your tone indicating that this wasn't the first time you had said it.

"I'm sorry." Echo looked back at you. His hand reaching out, then hesitating, then finally resting it on your shoulder. "I may not know you well, but from what I've learned and seen, it truly is his loss. I couldn't even imagine anyone throwing away a relationship with you."

You could feel yourself blush at his words, his voice was so genuine, he meant what he was saying. The way he looked into your eyes; maybe Fives was right and you would end up with a crush.

Fives looked back and forth between the two of you before smirking to himself and drinking the last sip of his beverage.

"I'm gonna go get us some refills. Be back in a minute."

After a moment, Echo removed his hand from your shoulder, but you were very aware of how his fingertips brushed your arm when doing so.

"So, what about you?" You asked after a beat.

"What do you mean?"

"Why aren't you seeing anyone?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, well... it's kind of against regulation."

"So I've heard, but most of the people I've talked to seem to ignore that rule."

"Yeah, I guess I've just always been a stickler for the rules. And, I mean," a faint blush crept across his cheeks, "That clone at the bar wasn't wrong. Women aren't exactly lining up to spend time with me when there are more fun people out there."

"I'm here, aren't I?" You blurted out.

Once you realized what you said, your eyes widened and your gaze quickly turned back to your empty glass.

Echo chuckled quietly beside you. "Yeah, I guess you are."

You looked around nervously, not knowing what to say. You glanced toward the bar before looking back at Echo. "Fives has been gone a while, I think I'll go check that he can handle the drinks."

"You sure? I could go if you want, I don't want anyone to bother you again."

You smiled, appreciative of his concern. "I'll be alright."

"If you say so," He shrugged, "I'll be here."

You gently rested your hand on his before you got up from the bench. As soon as he couldn't see your face, your eyes widened in panic wondering why you did that. Echo only stared after you, smiling.

When you approached the bar, you found Fives right away, leaning against the counter and talking to another clone as he waited on your drinks.

The other clone turned to you as soon as he noticed you approach.

Of course he was the same one as earlier.

"Back already?" He asked, "What, did he finally bore you?"

You rolled your eyes, and without looking at him, you replied flatly. "Quite the opposite."

Fives raised an eyebrow at your exhange, "Did I miss something?"

"Just glad I get to admire the scenery again."

You visibly cringed, but you did your best to ignore him as you focused on Fives. "I just came up to see if you needed help with the drinks."

Fives, still confused, nodded. "Yeah, sure. You gonna tell me what's going on?"

"Just some jagyc thinking he can take me home." You explained as if he wasn't right beside you. Your Mando'a wasn't great, but you'd heard quite a few insults in the time you've spent with Fives.

"What, you already get bored of Booksmart? Moved onto someone else? Or are you just some barrack bunny trying to get as many clones as possible?"

"Ease up, maybe you've had a bit too much to drink." Fives said with an uncharacteristically serious voice. "She's not interested, and the next time you insult her, you'll be doing so without teeth."

Before he could say anything else, the bartender arrived with your drinks. You took yours while Fives grabbed the other two, but you hesitated as you were walking away.

"Everything okay?" Fives was concerned when you suddenly stopped.

"Actually I–" You stared down at your feet.

"You want to go home? I'd understand, that clone was out of line."

"No it's not that... I just, need to talk to you."

He raised an eyebrow, "What's up?"

"There's not really an ideal time to say this, and as much as it pains me to admit... You were right. While you were up here, Echo and I started talking and... I don't know, he's sweet."

Fives' confused face turned into a grin as soon as you said he was right. "So what are you saying? You like him?"

"I don't know..." You could feel heat flooding your cheeks. "I won't make any guarantees, but I want to get to know him better."

"That could be arranged, leave it to me!"

Before you could say anything, Fives turned around and started walking back to your table.

"Wait, Fives, no!" You trailed behind him, terrified of what he meant. What was he going to do?

When you got back to the table and slid into the booth, you eyed Fives cautiously.

"So, Echo," Fives started and you felt a pit grow in your stomach. "Got any plans for after the mission?"

He shrugged, "Nothing out of the ordinary."

"I think you should change up your routine. Why don't you two go on a date?" Fives said, gesturing to both of you.

Your eyes widened and your knew your face had to be beet red by now. You couldn't even turn your head to look at Echo.

"Oh, really? Why us?" He asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

"Well I mean, you seem to get along pretty well, you have stuff in common, I think you'd really hit it off without me sitting across from you."

Echo paused before answering again. He looked over at you and noticed you wouldn't meet his gaze. "What do you think?"

Slowly, you turned your head to face him. "I mean... if you want to, I wouldn't mind." Your voice was quiet as you desperately tried to hide your nerves.

He gave you a sweet smile, "Then I guess it's a date, as soon as we're back."

Fives smiled between the two of you then gave you a wink when you finally looked back at him.

"Where are you guys shipping off to, anyway?"

Fives shrugged, "Lola Sayu, some kind of fortress or something. Shouldn't be too long, it's just a retrieval mission."

"Do you want me to head to the landing dock tomorrow morning as usual?"

"Usual?" Echo repeated.

"Yeah she normally sends us off, maybe you've never noticed." He turned back to you, "I don't think you'll be able to this time, the general said we have to take an alternate means of transport."

Your shoulders sank slightly, "Oh, I see. That sounds interesting though. I'll just have to send you luck when we're done here."

Fives smiled, downing the last of his drink. "We should probably get going soon, early start and all."

You and Echo finished your respective drinks after him and nodded, slowly shuffling out of the booth, heading toward the exit.

There were more clones gathered outside now, and the cool nighttime air on your skin made you shiver.

Fives hailed a taxi as you and Echo hung back, not really sure what to say to each other now.

Once the cab arrived, Fives let you go in first, followed by Echo and then himself.

"Two stops," you told the droid before giving it your address, but you were cut off by Fives before you could tell it the second stop.

"Just the one stop."

You looked at him with an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"We won't see you tomorrow, I'm not accepting a half-assed goodbye from the cab."

You rolled your eyes, "Fine."

Once the taxi arrived at the landing dock outside of your apartment, the three of you left the vehicle, one after the other.

Fives scooped you up into a big hug as soon as you exited the cab, holding you tight against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

"Try not to miss us too much, got it?" He said into your shoulder. You smiled and tightened your side of the hug.

"Try not to get blown up." You joked.

You could feel him smile before he broke the hug, looking into your eyes. You rested a hand against his cheek gently.

"Comm me as soon as you can. And stay safe." You looked at Echo then back to Fives. "Keep each other safe."

"Of course," Fives replied before giving you a soft kiss on your forehead then stepping away so you could talk to Echo.

The two of you exchanged a slightly more awkward albeit friendly hug.

"You don't get blown up either." You told him with a half-smile.

"I'll try not to. We've got a date when I get back." He reminded you.

"It was nice meeting you. I'm looking forward to getting to know you better."

He smiled as his cheeks and ears flushed slightly pink. "Likewise."

You took a step toward him before kissing his cheek. "Stay safe."

"Of-of course." His hand rested against his cheek where you kissed him. "I'll let you know when I get back."

You smiled at him. Fives approached the two of you again.

"We should get back to the barracks, Rex won't be happy if we're too late."

"I don't want to keep you. Just, be careful. I'll see you both when you get back!"

You watched as they hailed another taxi and boarded. Once the transport was out of sight, you walked into your apartment building, already looking forward to the day they returned.

– – –

One night, a couple of weeks following your night at 79s, you were woken up to the sound of a fist slamming on your door. You jolted upright, hesitating if you should answer it or not.

You sat in your bed, trying to stop yourself from trembling as you waited with bated breath if whoever was at your door would knock again.

They did, only softer this time.

Slowly, you crept out of your bedroom, trying to make as little sound as possible before you finally made it to the front door. You pressed your ear against it, hoping to hear who was on the other side, but they didn't make a sound between knocks.

"Wh-who's there?" You asked, shakily.

"Please open the door, it's Fives." You visibly relaxed before unlocking and opening the door for your friend.

Before you could say anything, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, just as he did the night before he left.

"I'm sorry." He said, barely a whisper.

You backed away from his embrace and you moved to close and lock your front door, turning the hall light on once it was closed.

"I didn't know you were back, you should have commed me!" You told him, assuming his apology was for his extended time away.

"We just got back, I sent you a message but I guess you were asleep. I..." He looked down and you could see his jaw clench as he balled his hands into fists. "I couldn't..."

He trailed off and your smile fell. "Is everything okay?"

He looked away, not meeting your gaze, until you placed your hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you.

"Fives, what's wrong?"

"It's... it's Echo." His voice broke slightly and you could feel the pain in your chest caused by his sadness. "I tried to stop him but he–"

You could see his eyes start to water before he could get the words out, and he melted into your palm. You pulled him into another embrace, gently stroking his hair.

"Why don't you sit down and tell me what happened?" You suggested. It was strange to see Fives so upset, in all the time you've been friends, you couldn't think of a time where he's been angry in front of you, let alone crying. You took his hand and led him to the couch.

Once he was seated, he brought his hand to his face, trying to sneakily wipe away tears as if he didn't want you to see them.

"Echo's dead." He said after a long pause. "Droids blew up our ship, Echo tried to defend it."

"I see." You couldn't think of what to say.

Words of comfort usually came so naturally to you, but you were speechless. It's true you didn't know Echo very well, even after your night out, but the news made your heart ache. You had been looking forward to seeing him again, to going on your date, and all of that had been taken away, but more importantly, Fives just lost one of his brothers.

You looked over at Fives who was already looking at you. He didn't know how you'd take the news and he was worried.

"I'm sorry, Fives. I didn't know him well, but he didn't deserve that."

"Him and I were the last of our original squad and now I'm alone, I couldnt even retrieve his helmet." He sighed, "And you were supposed to go out with him after, I told you I'd keep him safe."

"Hey, don't worry about me. I'm sad that he's gone, believe me, but I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I've lost brothers before, it's what we were created for, but... It's not right. Echo deserved to live."

"You all do. Just because you were created for war doesn't mean you have to just accept your fate or anyone else's." You shook your head. "It's late, and I don't want you to be alone right now. Do you want to stay over?"

"Yeah, that would be nice. Thank you."

"Of course." You leaned over on the sofa, kissing his temple before wrapping your arms around him. "We can talk more about it in the morning, okay?"

"Sorry for waking you up."

"I'm glad you did."

You stood up from the couch to grabs Fives a pillow and some blankets you had stored nearby for this exact reason.

"If you need anything, help yourself. Get some sleep, okay?"

"I'll do my best."

You walked back to your room and laid back down in your bed. Suddenly the full wave of everything he told you hit you and you could feel your eyes water.

You didn't feel it was right for you to cry over someone you barely knew, it felt selfish to mourn someone you wanted to get to know better. You couldn't shake the thought of what could have been.

Your chest ached with sadness and longing, wishing he could have made it through. Fives was right, Echo deserved to live.

While you were alone you allowed yourself to cry for him, but you knew you had to be strong for Fives. He wouldn't forgive himself if he saw you cry, and he didn't need that guilt. You could get through this. You just wished you could see him again.

As you lay, staring at the ceiling, you heard a gentle knock on your bedroom door. You hastily wiped any tears from your face and turned on the lamp beside your bed.

"Come in." You called out, before the door opened.

Fives looked as though he wanted to say something, but couldn't voice it. He shied away in embarrassment before you offered him a gentle smile.

"If you want to stay in here, that's okay."

"Thanks..." he muttered before walking around to the other side of your bed. "I'm sorry I just.."

"You don't want to be alone, I understand. Come here." You invited him toward you with open arms, and he moved closer to you, laying his head on your chest. You gently stroked his hair.

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing you need to apologize for."

"I shouldn't have asked you to come out with us that night."

"I'm glad I did. It's true that I didn't get to know him well, but I'm glad that I met him. And I feel more equipped to help you now because I did."

"You're allowed to be upset too, you know. You don't have to comfort me. Echo wouldn't shut up about your date, it was actually getting pretty annoying, I'm just sorry he couldn't be here for it."

"Thank you for telling me that." In a weird way it did make you feel better, and it helped that Fives could still make fun of his brother despite the circumstances. "I'll be okay, though. And I'll be here for you whenever you need me."

Fives smiled slightly and closed his eyes, allowing himself to finally find sleep, and you followed shortly after.

#the clone wars #the bad batch #star wars #the clone wars fanfic #the clone wars fanfiction #echo x reader #echo fanfiction #clone trooper echo #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #tcw fives #clone trooper fives #tcw echo #tcw echo x reader #echo fluff #echo angst #echo fanfic #echo x reader fanfic

70 notes · View notes

crooked-haven · 22 days ago

Text

Shattered Lines | Angst

➭ Pairing: Mark Lee X (GN!) Y/n

➭ Rating/Genre: Angst

➭ Warning/Tags: Cheating, Infidelity, Heartbreak, Heartache, Betrayal

➭ Disclaimer: All members of NCT are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are purely coincidental.

Also this is my story so please don't steal!

➭ By: Crooked-haven

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s POV

♡︎༄♡︎

Y/N had never planned for it to happen. Mark was kind, loyal, and everything a person should want in a partner. But lately, something had been missing. His eyes no longer lit up when they talked, and the space between them felt like a growing canyon neither could cross.

Enter Jaemin. Mark's best friend. Charismatic, unpredictable, and always lingering a little too long with his glances. He was the one who filled in the silence, who noticed when Y/N changed their hair, who made them laugh when Mark was too busy or too distracted to care.

It started with a late night talk. Then a hand brushing too close. Then, something more. Y/N knew it was wrong. Every time Jaemin touched them, it came with guilt. But that didn't stop them.

One evening, Mark said he was heading out of town for a family thing. Y/N didn't even question it. Jaemin showed up not long after, claiming he "just wanted to talk." But talk turned into touches. Kisses. Clothes on the floor. Hearts racing.

And then, footsteps.

The door creaked.

"Y/N?" Mark's voice cut through the air like a knife. Time froze. Y/N turned, half covered, Jaemin scrambling for his shirt, the horror on Mark's face unmistakable.

There was no yelling. Just silence.

Mark stood there, eyes locked on the two of them, and shook his head slowly, like he was watching a bad dream he couldn't wake up from.

"I trusted you. Both of you." The door closed behind him, quietly but it felt like a slam.

♡︎༄♡︎

Y/N didn't sleep that night. The echo of Mark's voice haunted every moment. The image of his heartbreak was seared into their mind, more painful than any argument could've been. Jaemin had left shortly after, muttering apologies but offering no comfort. He knew what they'd done was unforgivable. And so did Y/N.

The next day, the apartment felt colder. Emptier. Mark hadn't texted. He hadn't called. But Y/N knew he would come back, not to forgive, but to finish what had been left broken.

The knock came around noon. Soft. Hesitant. Y/N opened the door, heart in their throat. Mark stood there, arms crossed, eyes bloodshot but dry. He looked tired. Not angry, just...done.

"I came to get my stuff." he said, voice low. "Mark...please c-can we talk?"

He walked past without answering, heading straight for the bedroom. Y/N followed, every step heavier than the last. "I know what I did. I know I hurt you. But I need you to know it wasn't because you weren't enough."

Mark let out a bitter laugh, not looking at them. "Don't say that. Please don't make this worse by pretending it wasn't a choice." Y/N swallowed hard. "It was a mistake."

"No" he said, spinning to face them. "For something to be a mistake, it has to be something you didn't mean. You meant to kiss him. You meant to sleep with him. My best friend, Y/N."

Silence.

Y/N nodded slowly. "You're right. I'm not here to defend it. I just...I want to apologize. And I want to be someone better than who I was that night."

Mark stared for a long time, as if searching for something in their eyes maybe honesty, maybe regret.

"You broke something I can't fix." He finally said. "And maybe you can become a better version of yourself. I hope you do. But it won't be with me."

Those words cut deeper than anything Y/N had prepared for.

He grabbed a duffel bag from the closet, started packing in silence. Y/N stood still, hands trembling, watching everything crumble with every shirt he folded.

At the door, he paused. "I loved you." He said softly. "And I still do, in a way. But I deserve more than this."

The door closed behind him.

This time, for good.

♡︎༄♡︎

Redemption doesn't always come in the form of reconciliation. Sometimes, it's in choosing to face the consequences. To sit in the silence you created. To learn from the pain you caused.

Y/N didn't call Jaemin again.

They started therapy a few weeks later.

Not to get Mark back, but to understand why they let something so good fall apart. Because healing, like trust, takes time. And sometimes, the most honest kind of love is the one you walk away from.

♡︎༄♡︎

Mark never thought heartbreak would feel so quiet.

There were no screaming matches. No tears flung in rage. Just the dull ache of watching someone he loved become someone he didn't recognize.

He hadn't planned to come back the day after. But the weight of not knowing what to do with the silence, their silence, was worse than anything he could've imagined. So he showed up, packed his things, and left the pieces behind on the floor like the trust they'd shattered.

The days that followed were blurry.

Friends called. Jaemin didn't.

Mark didn't return most messages, didn't explain. What was there to say?

"Hey, just found out my best friend and my partner were sleeping together. Yeah, I'm fine."

Except he wasn't fine. Not even close.

He'd trusted them both. Loved them both. And somehow, that love had folded in on itself, suffocating him in the process.

Weeks passed.

He moved in with his cousin for a while. Took a leave from work. Started running again, miles every morning, shoes pounding the pavement like he could outrun the memories.

The worst part wasn't the betrayal but it was how easily they'd hidden it.

The jokes between Y/N and Jaemin that now sounded like coded messages in hindsight. The glances. The nights Y/N was "tired" and Jaemin just "happened to stop by" the next day to hang out.

Mark had blamed himself, for a while. Wondering if he'd been too distant, too caught up in his own life. But no amount of self blame could justify what they did. He knew that now.

One evening, Mark stood outside the apartment they used to share. He didn't go in.

He just looked at the windows, dark and still. Wondered if Y/N was in there, thinking about the same nights he couldn't forget. Maybe they were sorry. Maybe they'd changed.

But it didn't matter anymore.

Closure, he realized, wasn't about forgiveness. It wasn't about reconciliation.

It was about walking away from something broken without trying to fix it again.

He turned and walked back toward the street. Somewhere inside, he felt the weight start to lift, not all at once, but enough to breathe.

The pain hadn't disappeared. It probably never would.

But it didn't control him anymore.

And that finally, felt like freedom.

♡︎༄♡︎

Three months.

That's how long it had been since Mark walked out of the apartment. Three months since he'd seen Y/N. Three months since Jaemin betrayed him.

In that time, Mark had started rebuilding. Therapy. Training. Quiet mornings and sleepless nights. He didn't feel whole no but he felt more himself than he had in a long time.

Still, one piece lingered. Untouched. Unspoken. Jaemin.

They hadn't talked. Not once. Not a call. Not a message. Just absence.

But Mark knew the silence couldn't last forever. So when he heard Jaemin was back in town, back at the same cafe they used to haunt together, it wasn't anger that made Mark go. It was the need for something real. Something final.

He found Jaemin alone at a corner table. Same cocky posture. Same careless charm, dimmed by time.

When Jaemin looked up, surprise flashed in his eyes. Then guilt. Then something like resignation.

"Didn't think I'd see you again." Jaemin said, voice low. Mark sat across from him without asking. Looked him dead in the eyes. "You won't after this."

Jaemin leaned back, like he was bracing for a punch. "So this is it, huh? The big blowup?"

Mark shook his head slowly. "No. There's nothing left to blowup. You already burned it down." The words hung between them, heavy and dry like old ash.

"I didn't plan for it to happen." Jaemin said after a pause. "It just-"

"Don't." Mark cut in. "Don't give me the 'it just happened' speech. You made choices. Over and over again. With them. Behind my back."

Jaemin's jaw tightened, but he didn't deny it. That was something, at least.

Mark leaned in slightly, voice calm. "You were my brother. Family, almost. And you didn't just lie to me, you made me doubt myself. My worth. My instincts."

"I know." Jaemin whispered. "And I've hated myself for it."

Mark studied him. For a moment, he almost believed the regret in Jaemin's eyes. But it didn't matter.

"I'm not here for an apology." Mark said. "I'm not here for revenge. I'm here to say this: You're not in my life anymore. Not now. Not ever."

Jaemin nodded slowly. No arguments. No defenses. Just silence. Mark stood up. "Take care of yourself. Try not to destroy the next person who trusts you."

He walked away, heart racing, not because he was angry, but because it was finally done.

Mark never saw Jaemin again. And he didn't need to.

Closure wasn't always loud. Sometimes, it was a quiet conversation in a noisy cafe, where two people finally stopped pretending.

Mark healed, not because time made it easier, but because he chose to let go.

Some stories don't end with forgiveness.

Some end with freedom.

♡︎༄♡︎

A/n:

Hope you guys enjoyed this one, I wanted to try and write in a new way, let me know how you like it and let me know if you want me to do a part where it’s in jaemin’s pov!

#ff #wattpad #oneshot #kpop #bts #nct ff #nct u #nct fluff #nct dream #nct #kpop imagines #angst #heartbreak #mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee x y/n

24 notes · View notes